#i prefer naomis old personality and her new design i THINK

[willyhoos]

she has had an iron grip on my psyche for nearly 10 years.  i saw fanart comparing her -rebuilt- and blood covered designs and i wanted to as well! bring back red eyed naomi

#corpse party #naomi nakashima #corpse party rebuilt #cant believe modern naomi was designed b4 the cp-rebuilt- remake.. #i prefer naomis old personality and her new design i THINK #i also love her old design too tbh #i want there to be ablend in between.. #i feel like modern naomi is too . um.... #ALSO 2008 NAOMI IS SOOOOO TBH THE CREATURE QUIT STARIN AT ME WITH THOSE BIG OL EYES #i tried to mimic that here. the 2008 big eyed style #idk something about the MEAN GIRL 90s naomi was sooo charming #中島直美 #コープスパーティー #my nyart #BRING BACK RED-EYED NAOMI

[cooladddy]

Humanoid fish and the passion for the east by Elena Garofalo Banish

Elena Galofaro 's love for oriental culture does not manifest itself, as one might expect, through the classic re-proposal of icons and stylistic codes borrowed from Japanese art or manga. Her style, on the other hand, is faithful to the search for her own personality and is the synthesis of her creative path and the experiences gained over time. Raised in Milan, she graduated from the National Film School (CSC) in Turin, where she studied 2D Animation, and then worked as an animator and character designer. She then moved to Japan for almost two years, doing an internship at an animation studio in Tokyo. She now lives in London, where she did her master's degree in Visual Communication at the Royal College of Art, and works for clients such as Nature, BBC and Apple. We interviewed her for you.

Hi Elena and welcome to Picame. Do you want to introduce yourself to our readers? Hi everyone! My name is Elena, aka Elena Bansh, and I am an Italian artist born and raised in Milan, who however has lived/traveled in different parts of the globe (Japan, United Kingdom, South Korea...). By trade I am an illustrator and animator, but lately I prefer to define myself as a visual artist. Do you remember your first drawing? Not the first ever but I remember that when I saw some of my drawings from when I was 3-4 years old there was one that particularly struck me. It was that of an enormous insect, which covered the entire surface of the sheet. The teacher, in the bottom corner of the paper, had written 'a louse', ha-ha. Another memory is the collection of Pokemon invented by me, with more than 100 different Pokemon. I was 6-7 years old.

Is there one of your works that you are most fond of? I would naively say that I am fond of everyone. Until my 20s I always collected every single drawing I made with extreme care, cataloging them all. This has led to cultivating a somewhat obsessive feeling towards my works. Now I have improved but it is difficult for me to say which one I am more fond of… Probably the collection of portraits of my friends in Japan, also called Out of the Shell , is of great importance to me. Is your technique still that of freehand drawing, then integrated with digital color? Yes, always that one. Unfortunately (or fortunately) I can no longer draw well on a tablet. It always seems to me that the sign is too 'clean' and not expressive enough. Although I initially trained as a 2D animator using only software such as Photoshop, Toon Boom Harmony etc.

Elena's sketchbook Do you have any other passion or dream in your drawer? Traveling and eating. I really enjoy trying new dishes and looking for interesting restaurants, especially when I travel to Asia. Regarding my secret dreams... I think I have too many, and too ambitious ones. Maybe I can finally finalize a story about my humanoid fish and illustrate it, perhaps in the form of a graphic novel. Another dream I have is to travel to new places and get inspiration from them. I'm currently contemplating Thailand or Mongolia. Is there an artist or character from the past or present that you would like to meet in person? I think I would have liked to meet Utagawa Kuniyoshi to better understand the dynamics behind his imaginative works. As for the present, I would like to meet Watanabe Naomi (a Japanese model/comedian) and collaborate! Then of course I would like to meet all my favorite artists.

Can you tell us what you are working on these days? Lately I've been finalizing my lesson for Domestika, which I hope will be released between June and July. I just finished filming a few days ago. An incredible experience! Plus I'm working on a couple of projects for fashion brands. You have previously defined the dreamlike atmospheres of your drawings as a world “where no one is ever fully human, and no one is ever fully understood”. How did the idea of ​​involving the people of the sea come about? I began to develop this poetics while I was in Japan, even if unconsciously. Japan is an archipelago and has a vast culture based on the sea and the creatures that inhabit it. There I started drawing lots of fish, which then became characters and somewhat grotesque depictions of people I met on the street. During my Masters in Visual Communication at the Royal College of Art, I began to investigate why I was drawing non-human beings. I thus came to the conclusion that not being able to express myself well in Japan created a communication barrier between me and those around me, transforming everyone into fantastic creatures. Not understanding what others were telling me, or simply not understanding the emotions and intentions of those around me (and still surround me in any city in the world) gave rise to my poetics. I too am non-human for you who are reading me!

You are Russian-Milan, you have lived in Japan and South Korea, now in London... Do you also feel a bit alien? Yes, but it's a pleasant feeling. I like to come into contact with different cultures and try to understand them. Perhaps the fact that I grew up in an extremely multi-ethnic environment gave me an extra push. Lately your sea creatures are in good company with their land cousins. Is the audience of incommunicability widening or can we hope for a common Esperanto? I'm trying to broaden my themes more, but sea creatures are still my favorite at the moment! Lately I have also been interested in frogs and amphibians. I still don't know exactly why, but in Korea I feel that people are more amphibian than fish, so I think the appearance of other creatures is due to the fact that I have been traveling a lot in South Korea lately. As for England at the moment I don't I have yet to have any artistic stimulation… perhaps because I see England more as a place to work, rather than one to be inspired. I don't think I'll stay in England much longer.

You have condensed your work from the last two years, including your Royal College degree thesis, into the book “Behind the fish head” : is this a way to put an end to your career and your life and start a new path? I think it was a way to define who I am as an artist. I wanted to collect all my works and share them with my audience. Posting an image online doesn't have the same visual impact as seeing it printed in a book. Furthermore, the digital image tends to vanish over time, submerged by new 'posts'. I wanted all my work, my experience, the stories behind my illustrations, to re-emerge from the depths of digital and to be kept inside a book. This is why my art-book is titled 'Behind the Fish Head' . You also published your 2018 Japanese diary, do you want to tell us about it? Certain! 'Watashi to Karera – Me and Them' is a diary that I started writing as soon as I moved to Yokohama, Japan in 2018. At the time, I moved to Japan to study the language at Yokohama Design College. This school also gave the opportunity to participate in extra lessons such as drawing. I was already quite advanced, so my teacher just told me to draw whatever I wanted. So during those six hours a week I focused only on writing my Japanese diary. With this project I even won a prize at school! Unfortunately the diary does not cover my entire stay in Japan, but it certainly talks about the most exciting moments which are the first months of my Japanese life, my first friendships, my home, the supermarket... The last pages of the diary are very personal, and drawn in the form of a comic. I didn't really plan to print 'Watashi to Karera' , but since I already had more than 60 pages ready I decided to do so, together with my art-book. The final result was very pleasant, and I also had a lot of positive feedback!

Cover for The Milaneser project

Cover for Nature magazine

Read the full article

#ANIMALS #ANIMATION #EDITORIALILLUSTRATION #FISH #JAPAN #KOREA #ORIENT #TOKYO

[wevelocityteampresents-blog]

SEPTEMBER 24TH

I almost lost my concentration today. I'm glad I managed to get my act together.

Since I started using Yahoo! Japan, I suddenly noticed how better it was than the international version. I can't say much right now. But it's definitely the better alternative to Google. (They even managed to keep the Yahoo! logo after 20 years! Unlike the minimalistic design of its international cousin...)

In Pokémon Violet, I managed to escape the cave and fly back to Moussi Town.

Kieran and Carmine's family must be rich if they have so many nuggets behind their grandparents' house. What's not so rich is that Kieran ran off with the Teal Mask. So I went off to find him.

Do the farmers in this area know that giant crystal caverns with dangerous Pokémon grow in their crops overnight? I don't think the ogre is the only thing they should be worried about.

After I found Kieran, he challenged me to a battle and wasn't taking it as lightly as he did before.

After I beat him, he punched the shrine. And I WISH I managed to get a screenshot of that. (It probably isn't as cool as Dr. Eggman punching a crater into a wall of ice.) That punch didn't just look strong but was enough to reawaken the legendary Pokémon.

That's the thing I'd least expect a Pokémon like that to say.

After that, they all ran off to the festival site. I could've chased them down. But my study time was in a few hours. So, I stopped for the day. I expected Nurse Joy to say her usual lines. But she instead gave me a new pose.

This has to be the dumbest pose I've ever seen... I still had some time left. So, I participated in a few wonder trades. It was a good thing I did because I actually got something good out of it.

A shiny Pokémon that was obtained legitimately. Most of the ones I get in wonder trades (that aren't done in Pokémon HOME or Pokémon Brilliant Diamond) are always hacked by some website. I'm glad this one was the real deal. Goes to show that these wonder trades ARE worth it.

SEPTEMBER 26TH

I finally managed to redesign an old character of mine! The new changes to his design and personality should really win over some new fans. I should work on the other character first, though...

Aside from that, I finished working on a new page for my website! The only thing it needs now is a header image.

In Pokémon Violet, I sat back and relished in the townspeople's stupidity for nurturing the legendary Pokémon to full health.

I chased after them and had to fight against Munkidori.

It was a good thing I used Braixen for this fight because Munkidori helped improve her Special Attack.

Soon after the others had caught up with me, I was told to head back to town to gain information on the legendary Pokémon. I also gained the ability to walk Ogerpon and any other Pokémon.

I set up a picnic to feed Ogerpon after the nasty encounter she had a few minutes ago.

But she doesn't join you for picnics... (She also seems to prefer watching me battle from the sidelines.)

SEPTEMBER 27TH

I'm trying to practice with a specific program so I can better understand one of my classes. I'd say I'm doing a great job so far. (I just wish some of the stuff from the later chapters were put into the one I'm reading. They seem very simple compared to the things I'm learning right now.)

Besides that, I'm also getting back to doing more things with Pokémon Stadium 2. I'm mostly messing around in Earl's Pokémon Academy so I can increase my understanding of Pokémon battles. (Or, at least, the battle mechanics of the GS series.)

Even though Naomi says she'll start off with Murkrow before using Ghost Pokémon, there may be a chance she'll use Magcargo instead. (You can see it for yourself here.) A cunning way to embrace players for the real world of Pokémon battling.

I didn't actually get to do that much in Pokémon Violet today since I was too occupied with schoolwork. But that didn't mean I didn't run into any interesting stuff.

After discovering the legendary Pokémon's whereabouts, I was forced to meet with Ogerpon on the outskirts of town.

Considering she's been out in the open for so long, it's a miracle nothing bad happened to her. I chose Munkidori as my first target since I needed a stat boost for Braixen.

There is no way a creature like that can be so wise.

#pokémon #Pokemon Violet #Pokemon Stadium 2 #Swinub #Johto #Shiny Pokemon #Munkidori #Okidogi #Fezandipiti #Ogerpon #Legendary Pokemon #Kieran #Carmine #Nintendo Switch #Nintendo 64 #screenshots #gameplay #Nintendo #Game Freak #Creatures Inc. #hal laboratory #personal

[haunthouse]

welcome to a meta that, in retrospect, seems glaringly obvious, but that has hit me like a freight train this morning. we’re talking about the lonely as a ghost story.

ghosts as an entity are inherently about disconnect. but kaylee, i hear you say, ghosts are dead people, wouldn’t that make them in the end’s domain? but when it comes down to it, death is a good framing device for ghosts (and yeah, it’s necessary to make ghosts), but people don’t tell ghost stories just because they’re afraid of death. ghost stories are told because ghosts are irrevocably disconnected from the living in a way that terrifies us — sometimes they’re intentionally scary, knocking shit around or yelling boo!, but a lot of the time they’re just... there. and that’s the terrifying part. something that’s there and shouldn’t be; something that can’t interact with the world around it and is completely, utterly, terrifyingly alone.

ghost stories are about isolation, about being a person without any of the framework that being a person requires, without society or connection or love. being unseen and unheard and unknown to all around you — and trying so hard to reverse all those un-words, to be seen, heard, known. that’s exactly the domain of the lonely!

and onto the meat of this meta: all nine lonely-centric statements (and the journey of one martin blackwood) through the lens of ghost stories.

(spoilers for mag170 at the end, but each episode section is clearly marked, so feel free to skip it if you haven’t gotten that far yet!)

MAG013: ALONE

the first lonely statement we get (and also the first in-person statement! which is such a good inversion of the lonely being about lack of connection! jon doesn’t do a great job of comforting naomi, but he does stay with her as she gives the statement when she asks!! that’s beside the point but it is something i really love), and right off the bat, the ghost vibes are off the charts.

truly i am feeling absolutely idiotic for not really thinking about the ghosts-lonely connection before now because this statement? peak ghost story.

naomi’s fiance dies. naomi has several near-death experiences (crashes her car, then is hit by another car and winds up in the hospital), which is also a staple in a lot of ghost stories; nearly dying is set up as a way to get the living closer to the realm of ghosts, able to interact with them more clearly. it was a dark and foggy night in a graveyard, and standing at evan’s (open, empty) grave, naomi hears his disembodied voice leading her home.

when ghost stories are told from a distance, they’re about the horror of it — disembodied howling, faces in the window that keep you up at night. but when they’re told by someone close to the now-ghost, they’re love stories. it’s my grandmother hearing her father’s breathing one last time after his death, giving her a chance to say goodbye. it’s a familiar and loving presence, comforting you. that’s what naomi’s story is — the ghost of evan showing his love for her one final time.

MAG033: BOATSWAIN’S CALL

so, ships are meant to be places of community, right? ron @gerrydelano​ has a really good post about this regarding shanties. but ghost ships are an established trope of ghost stories: the inversion of what a ship should be, lacking all life and community, silently traversing the waters on its own.

the tundra is a ghost ship. it’s quiet (”very quiet... it was like they were doing everything in their power not to think about each other”) — the people there move around one another as if none of them are there, all so taken by the lonely. their cargo containers are empty. all they’re transporting on that ship is the ghosts of those aboard.

this episode falls into the trope of ghosts want the living to join them — though there’s still a mourning atmosphere when sean kelly is taken fully by the lonely, that final bit of life on the ship extinguished. (”no one said a word, but i could have sworn a few of my shipmates were crying.”)

MAG048: LOST IN THE CROWD

this one’s one of my favorites! andrea nunis’ statement deals with different kinds of loneliness — she begins it with explaining that she prefers to travel alone, but later, that loneliness is something terrifying. she’s in a crowd of unrecognizable people, unable to fit herself into the world she’s seeing — she’s completely separate from the rest of the world. she’s a ghost. 

“it wasn’t italian being spoken ... or any other language i recognized. the more i listened, the more i realized it wasn’t a language. there were no words, it was just noise.” “their faces were a blur, each and every one of them.” and, the crowning point: “i tried to talk to them or to shout, to scream at them, but there was no reaction.”

by being taken in by the lonely, andrea’s been turned into a ghost. she cannot interact with or even recognize her environment, and that’s the real horror — it isn’t just being alone, it’s being surrounded by something that should be familiar; a crowd is something she’s been in a thousand times, as someone who travels a lot, and people are the most familiar thing in the world, like looking in a mirror! but it isn’t. everything is strange and she is outside of it all and that’s what a ghost is.

and her connection to her mother is what pulls her out. people have talked at length about how love is the antidote to the lonely so i won’t go on too long about that, but the connection between that & ghosts’ relationships to the living often being what keeps them around is sure something.

also, after getting out of the lonely andrea says “i made sure i was always in sight of at least one other person” — and there’s something to be said there about needing to be seen to be real. 

chiara @red-reys​ brought up this feuerbach quote which fits very well: “that which i alone perceive i doubt; only that which the other also perceives is certain.” being the only one to perceive something (for example, a ghost), or the only one who is utterly unperceived, is a very lonely thing — it isolates you entirely from those who do not perceive it. being perceived, or having someone else see what you see, can give you an anchor.

wow i’m sure that won’t come back later!

also, far be it from me to talk about this statement without mentioning gerry keay. because it means something that he’s the one to give andrea the tools she needs to pull herself out of the lonely. gerry is someone completely lacking in human connection, who is literally haunted by the ghost of his mother and later is seen as a ghost himself. gerry doesn’t have friends; he tells jon “i always wanted my friends to call me gerry,” but in a tone that makes it clear he didn’t have anyone who could’ve. and of course he didn’t. a life so entwined with the entities and cut so short, a life so ruled by the cruelty of others that he certainly did not want to rope anyone else into. 

though gerry’s never directly stated to be affected by the lonely, he’s certainly lowercase-L lonely at the very least, and he’s certainly got enough experience with ghosts to understand the lonely. 

gerry is the trope of the helpful spirit. he’s the ghost who’ll give you directions on a deserted road and disappear when you turn around. he gives jon the information he needs to understand the entities, he gives andrea the information she needs to not become a ghost.

MAG057: PERSONAL SPACE

alright so this one is, admittedly, more cosmic horror than anything else, but if y’all’ve seen any of my comics you probably know i’m very passionate about space ghosts & haunted spaceships. and as such, i’m extremely interested in how the daedalus mission echoes ghost stories.

carter chilcott’s story pretty directly acts as a ghost story — unable to communicate with the others on the ship even when he tries, unable to interact with the world to the point of looking out the window at one point to find the world entirely missing. this is all stuff i’ve said already about the other statements, so i’m glossing past it, because what interests me more is the daedalus as malicious architecture.

because the daedalus was created specifically for this union between vast, lonely, and dark (all of which i think have significant ghostly tie-ins). everything about how the ship itself and the mission came to be is a mystery, even to those involved — manuela says “i don’t know how he convinced the lukases and fairchilds to help finance the project,” “i don’t know if they were working on rituals of their own,” “exactly how the launch was arranged, i couldn’t tell you.” 

a piece of the traditional haunted house is a sort of timelessness, and mystery inherent in its building. hill house in shirley jackson’s haunting of hill house “seemed somehow to have formed itself, flying together into its own powerful pattern under the hands of its builders... it was a house without kindness, never meant to be lived in, not a place fit for people or for love or for hope.” the oldest house in the game control is malicious architecture at its finest, and it’s called the oldest house. it predates people. it exists as a giant piece of brutalist architecture smack dab in the middle of new york, but no one knows why or how it came to be. as a real-world example: the winchester mystery house is wrapped up in mythos about its creation. was sarah winchester just a lonely old woman with a hobby for architectural design, or did she create endlessly spiraling staircases and doorways with a steep drop into the yard to keep ghosts away? who knows! we sure do like to speculate, though.

yes, i’ve talked about this in tma metas before. highly recommend jacob geller’s control, anatomy, and the legacy of the haunted house for more of this content.

even manuela dominguez, the only person on the daedalus mission who actually knew what she was doing and wasn’t just there to be a victim of entities they did not understand, does not know how the mission came to be. 

and the entire purpose of this spacecraft is to be malicious to its inhabitants! the very architecture is meant to make the people within into perfect snacks for their respective entities! the station is cramped (”so cramped that i could only fully stretch out in the section used to exercise,” says jan kilbride), but when the vast takes hold it’s suddenly endless — “a hollow pretense of a shell that did nothing to separate me from the void.” (cue me shouting about how much trust we put in the places we live, and whether or not that trust is warranted, how easily it can be turned against us!)

a few other bits of this statement that really echo ghost stories: “twice i was woken up by the sound of the door opening, only to find it as tight as it had ever been. throughout the daytime i would occasionally hear footsteps, which shouldn’t even have been possible in zero gravity.” and then the empty, ghostly spacesuit that floats past chilcott’s window — there are so many stories about disembodied wedding dresses or mourningwear walking the halls silently, so why not a spacesuit?

i started this section saying this statement was more cosmic horror than ghost story but i’m finishing it by saying this is actually one of the clearest representations of haunted architecture in the whole podcast. (other examples off the top of my head include upon the stair & a cosy cabin, the latter of which i actually already wrote a meta about.)

MAG092: NOTHING BESIDE REMAINS

the moment i started thinking about the lonely-ghosts connection i remembered this episode, because it’s so clear. complete disconnect, existing entirely alone in a shadow of the world you once knew, unable to interact with the living in any way.

very small bit but. “as the cab pulled away, it seemed to have no driver that i could discern” vs the theme of ghost carriages in older ghost stories. i am looking directly at it.

barnabas bennett can “almost think i hear the mocking joy of my friends, but there is nobody here.” he can see evidence that life continues around him, unseen — “i know that what is done by those i cannot see might be felt here — i have found glasses broken and pages torn that were not so the night before.” just as a ghost is unseen to the living, the reverse is true: bennett can see others having an impact on the world in small ways, and his letter is found by jonah, but he can’t really affect the world in any real way.

MAG108: MONOLOGUE

this one is so exciting to me because theater ghosts are a huge trope in ghost stories! theater people are some of the most superstitious people you’ll ever meet! especially regarding ghosts having an impact on their shows — there’s the superstition regarding The Scottish Play™, the tradition of leaving a ghost light on onstage to appease the spirits. there’s that time all the kids in my production of brigadoon when i was in middle school circled around the makeup mirrors to play bloody mary and got thoroughly chewed out by the adults in the cast. theater’s full’a ghosts!

(i think it’s something about the intense amounts of history behind it — and how, in playing a part that a thousand people have played before, you’re echoing their exact words, becoming a repetition of those long gone. and on a stage, blinding lights in your face washing out any view of the audience — you could, technically, leave the stage and interact with the people down there, but it seems pretty entirely impossible when you’re up there. you’re being perceived but can’t see in return. you’re essentially a ghost putting on a show for the living on a loop.)

the statement-giver for this one, adonis biros, echoes a lot of those sentiments, actually. “your words heard by no one — and in that no one, an entire universe.” “have you ever had stage lights in your eyes? ...you can look out into the audience and see nothing at all. just you.”

i said before that “when ghost stories are told from a distance, they’re about the horror of it — disembodied howling, faces in the window that keep you up at night.” the disconnect between the anonymous audience and the singular actor onstage makes the distance here extreme — so this is the sort of ghost story that’s unquestionably a horror story, focusing on the most chilling aspects of ghosts. their inhumanity, their anonymity. the theater masks adonis sees in the audience are “empty. it was a hollow shape of a man that had no life, no presence to it.” even adonis himself says he “had no doubt that what i had seen was some sort of specter or omen.”

he sees a “masked mockery of a human figure” in a window while walking at night. ghosts looking through windows is enough of a trope that once, when i went on a ghost tour in williamsburg, at least half the stories were about people seeing ghostly faces in windows, and i completely freaked out when i saw someone moving around in one of the houses before realizing, oh, some of them are still actually occupied.

this one’s undoubtably a collaboration between stranger and lonely, but i think that intersection’s one of the best for ghost stories — something not-quite-human-anymore, if it ever was, haunting you.

MAG150: CUL-DE-SAC

a lot of the bare bones of this statement are things i’ve already covered, so i’m not gonna go too in-depth on it. herman gorgoli’s statement is about disconnect (from alberto, and then from the rest of humanity), about isolation, about houses-gone-wrong (his and alberto’s house in cheadle, which he views by the end as a place imprisoning him, and the titular cul-de-sac).

we’ve seen the malicious architecture trope in the form of the daedalus already, but this time it’s on earth. it’s something that should, by all rights, be familiar. the houses in the suburbs are all the same, but it’s at least a sameness you know. but they’re all bereft of any irregularities, ghostly echoes of what a house should be.”there were no lights on in any of the houses.” he even finds a dead body in one of the houses — but the woman who’s body he finds is not the one haunting them.

it’s herman haunting the neighborhood, until his love for alberto brings him out. herman making his way through houses he cannot interact with in any meaningful way, whos details he cannot interpret. “how many corpses lay waiting behind the placid facade of this endless false suburbia?” he wonders, and i have to imagine he’s also wondering if he’s already joined their ranks, if he’s the haunting in a haunted house.

and connection brings him back and the houses are no longer empty, no longer waiting for a ghost to take resident in their hallways.

MAG159: THE LAST   (& martin’s journey in season four, generally)

we’ve all analyzed 159 within an inch of its life but i’m here to do it again, with the context of martin’s whole journey into the lonely. because the lonely turns people into ghosts. the lonely takes away humanity and life and leaves a hollow echo in its wake.

literally the powers lonely avatars have involve turning invisible. what else is often associated with invisibility? ghosts. checkmate. i’m running out of steam a bit but i swear these are good points i’m making. trust me.

what makes ghost stories so good is that even if the narrator is not a ghost themselves, just experiencing a ghost puts them at a fundamental disconnect from society. it’s something disbelieved by so many people. (there’s parallels to be made with mental illness here, but i... don’t really feel like making them right now. they’re definitely there, as is the very potent lonely-depression connection that made ep170 hit so hard for so many of us.) in hill house, the more eleanor is wrapped up in the goings-on of the house, the less she’s able to relate to the other people there. the closer martin becomes to the lonely, the less he’s able to talk to the people around him — he’s told not to talk to them by lukas, but he’s also just... unable to relate. their experiences are different than his, at this point.

nicole @brunetteauthorette99​ said something really good in our conversation about this, about ghosts “being stuck in... spaces that have moved on without them, reenacting their defining moments in life over and over again without the possibility of change.”

martin is stuck in the institute. he probably has an apartment, but we don’t see it, and i can’t imagine he as he is by season four has put much effort into decorating it or making it feel like a home. every place is impersonal — somewhere he exists without really living.

and the institute moves on without him. jon goes into the coffin and martin doesn’t know until he’s already in there. and martin can impact his environment only in small ways — leaving tape recorders on the coffin in an attempt to anchor jon home, leaving the tape of jon’s victim for melanie, basira, and daisy to find. he will not or cannot speak to or touch other living beings, just move objects around in a desperate attempt to get a message across, a ouija board of tapes and post-it notes. his moment of rejecting the lonely’s plans in 158 is dropping the knife peter has given him — another expression more through his interactions with his environment than any human connection.

martin says the lonely always had him, and with how much his story revolves around people who may as well be ghosts, that’s true. his father disappeared and left only the image martin had of him in his mind, only the echo he himself provided in the mirror, the ghost of someone who hurt him overlaid on his own reflection. his mother was only present so far as she could be malicious, disapproving; a vengeful ghost, taking out the revenging instinct she had for martin’s father on martin. and then everyone else martin cares about dies — sasha’s gone and not!sasha acts as her malicious echo for a while; tim dies; jon dies. and yeah, he comes back — but he’s different. a ghost of sorts. martin’s already pretty ghostly by then, too.

so martin is, essentially, a ghost throughout season four, and probably beforehand, as well. jon literally! asks martin! if he is a ghost! in season one! which brings us to 159: “are you real?” martin asks the first living person he’s really talked to in who-knows-how-long. because martin doesn’t feel real, so how could anyone else be? “nothing hurts here” may be a contradiction of the literal experience of ghosts we see in tma (gerry saying “it hurts, being like this”), but is a very real perception of ghosts in ghost mythology as beings beyond pain, beyond the suffering of being alive. sometimes they exist to cause others that suffering they can no longer feel, but a lot of the time, they’re just melancholy, having forgotten what it’s like to be a person or hanging on just enough to yearn to return to that feeling of life.

“i’m the reason he... i did this to him as much as you,” jon says. in ghost terms: martin died for him. of course his connection to jon, then, would be the only thing able to bring him back.

mag159 is an orpheus/eurydice story — people have made posts about that before, i’m sure, and i have too, how jon and martin invert the orpheus archetype by being saved rather than damned by the act of sight. and it feels obvious to state it, but for clarity: eurydice dies. orpheus, alive, tries to save eurydice from the underworld, where she is a spirit, a ghost, an echo of herself.

MAG170: RECOLLECTION   —   (SPOILER WARNING!)

this episode is the reason i’m making this post, but i may as well copy-and-paste the entire transcript for this section, because there is truly not a single part of it that doesn’t resonate as a ghost story. 

the lonely house as a malicious location. the chairs are all uncomfortable, the house is large enough that just by wandering it (as a ghost might) martin grows tired enough to sit in them regardless. the decorations are wrong — all the rooms are the same and martin doesn’t like it, said he doesn’t know “why i’d decorate my house like this.”

it isn’t a small house. there’s a reason a lot of ghost stories take place in twisting mansions where you can never quite find your way back to where you started. ghost stories thrive on that isolation, that loneliness — if you see a ghost while you’re alone, are you sure you’ll be believed? doesn’t that just isolate you further? architecture can twist around those within it until they’re trapped, doomed to haunt it themselves. “it's such a - such a big house, my house, there must be other people!” martin says. 

but the only others in the house are ghosts like martin. 

“hundreds, thousands of lost souls, wandering the halls. hollow memories, with eyes full of tears. i’ve seen them. they’re all trying to remember.” 

“i found someone else, wandering around. they were all thin and gray. faded. like they’d been here for ages.”

the ghosts cannot remember their names, why they are there, whether or not it is their house they exist in. they’ve become near-inseparable from the fog around them and the architecture that holds them hostage.

and the house itself, it takes all of that, and its quirks — the size, the chairs, the decorations, all of which martin openly does not like — are all made from the people haunting it. the house is wrong because the people within it can no longer change it. martin’s comment on the decorations sticks with me because it’s such a simple example of this: presumably, he could affect the house in some way in the past, but he no longer can, and he’s stuck with the results of his past mistakes, echoing over and over from room to room. the impacts remain even when the people have faded so far as to be practically nonexistent.

and once again: love is what makes him remember, over and over. he remembers jon, and then the lonely steals that memory — but the remembering is what’s important, because the act of loving anchors martin, and it helps him remember who he is, repeating his name over and over.

ghosts lack identity. whether it’s because they’ve been forgotten by all who knew them in life, whether it’s because it’s too painful to hold onto that when they can no longer do anything with it — we assign names to ghost stories, connect them to the living, but there’s always a disconnect there.

and that’s what helps jon find him, helps martin keep himself from fading out again. and even jon says “you were faint” upon finding martin. martin was a ghost haunting that house.

but not anymore.

the lonely is a ghost story. the lonely is about people who’ve become unmoored from human connection and their own identities, who haunt places, or who’ve been lured into places that are hauntings in and of themselves and have no choice but to take up residence as ghosts within those walls.

and ghost stories, often, are love stories. love keeps us tethered to life, and love is what saves people from the lonely, over and over again.

#the magnus archives #tma meta #martin blackwood #the lonely #mag170 #kaylee.txt #kaylee.meta #dfgkjngfd HELLO i didn't mean for this to get quite so long but ty if anyone actually reads it!!!! #this is longer than most fics i write. whoops.

[starrybethany]

Maybe Someday - Matthew Tkachuk Imagine Part 2

Part 1

Word count: 3.4K

She steps up to the plate, nervously brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. She’s never nervous- she’s the most confident little girl I’ve ever met. The only time I’ve ever seen her anxious is on the field.

The pitcher throws the ball. It lands in the box on the side of the plate, Naomi standing still like she’s been taught when the throw is a ball. The tiny boy beside me grips my hand tighter and I squeeze it in response, not moving my eyes from my daughter.

The pitcher throws the ball again. I watch as Naomi swings the bat with sturdiness, hitting the ball and knocking it into left field.

“Run, Naomi,” Wyatt cheers like I’ve taught him to do. Her small legs carry her to first base, and she pants when she stops at the base. Her eyes slide over to meet mine and I shoot her a thumbs up.

She smiles. The game continues and soon enough she makes it back to home base, giving her team another point.

“You did so good, honey,” I pull her into a tight hug when the game is over. “I’m proud of you.”

“You tell me that all of the time, mommy.” I already know she’s blushing, so I pull out of the embrace, not wanting to embarrass her in front of all of her friends.

“Good job Mimi,” Wyatt pulls his sister into a hug and I fight back the squeal that wants to escape at their sibling love. She reluctantly hugs him back. I know that she just wants to appear cool in front of her friends, but I can also tell she wants to give all of the love in the world to her little brother at the same time.

“Why don’t you go talk to your friends, Naomi? I just need to talk to your coach about next week’s game and then we can go grab ice cream,” I request, picking up a tired Wyatt and pulling him into my arms. She nods, running off towards her friends as I walk over to her coach.

~

“So as you all know we’ve recently been hired to renovate Scotiabank Saddledome and we wanted to let everyone know that we decided to let Y/N take the lead on this project,” my boss, Andy, informs the office.

Everyone claps and I smile shyly at the response, my heart practically beating out of my chest. I’m not just worried because of all of this attention on me, but also because of what comes along with this project.

Along with making everything perfect for the owners, fans, players, employees, and sponsors that work at the arena, both by making the place look nice and pleasing to the eye and sure that the workers and plans are moving along smoothly, I need to worry about Matthew.

I haven’t talked to Matthew in eight years. The last time that I saw him was the time I left him at the café, whispers the only parting remarks to each other.

Throughout my six-year long relationship with Curtis, I didn’t think about Matt much. I thought about him in the beginning. I checked his game calendar a lot and snuck into the bathroom on date nights to watch games, but that slowly faded as I got more and more immersed by Curtis.

Then Naomi came and I gave her all of my love and attention. Wyatt followed a couple of years after that and along with the bliss of a new child, I suffered heartbreak as Curtis and I ended our relationship.

On my first night alone in several years all I could think about was Matthew. Curly hair, hazel eyes, crooked grin and all.

I follow the Flames on Instagram now and I always make sure to watch the clips of his goals.

But I’ve made sure to stay away from contacting him or getting involved in his private life. For all I know, he could have a wife and a kid by now.

Now I have to think about what will happen the first time I see him again in almost a decade. Will he have missed me, or will he be just as disgusted as he was the day that he left? Matthew was such a spontaneous person- except for when it came to watching TV shows, it was always The Office- so I’m unsure of what it will be. I need to hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

I zone back into the meeting, trying my best to focus as my boss shares some more information about this project and some other projects. Work comes second in my life, close behind my children, so I need to worry more about this project than I am about my old lover.

~

I drop Wyatt off at daycare, gripping the steering wheel of my car tighter than I usually do as I drive over to Scotiabank Saddledome. Today is my first day working on this project to renovate the arena so I should just be working with the owners and staff members, but I assume that I might run into some players seeing as it’s March and I saw on the schedule that they have a home game tonight.

I walk into the building, immediately noticing the woman who looks to be a little bit older than me standing in the lobby on her phone.

“Y/N?” She inquires when she sees me. I nod and she smiles, stretching out her hand. “I’m Kelsea Rochester, the owner of the Saddledome. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, thank you for the opportunity to renovate this amazing building,” I tell her, making sure to smile. Ever since I went on a big self-improvement kick after Matthew and I broke up, I’ve been careful to make sure I have good first impressions.

She explains what she wants done as we walk throughout the building and I write it down on my notebook, asking questions about what she would like or prefer more once in a while. We head down to the locker room area and my heart beats faster as I see a player in a Flames jersey.

“I’m sorry, practice just ended so we’ll be running into a bunch of sweaty hockey players,” she jokes.

I laugh at that but nervously look towards the locker room doors, unsure of who will walk out and recognize me. I know a few of the players Matt and I used to spend time with were traded, but some are still around and might recognize me. I don’t expect them to- it’s been a long time, but I kind of expect Matt to considering we used to spend practically every day together.

She details her plans to me more and I forget about my anxiety, visualizing her vision myself and suggesting what I think would look nice or work better for the arena. I love my job; interior design is something that I’ve always loved to do but not something I really considered doing until I was in school and setting up Naomi’s nursery.

“If you excuse me, I just have to run to the ladies’ room,” she informs me. I nod and she walks off, leaving me to look over my notes.

There’s a commotion by the locker room doors so I look up. All of the blood rushes through my veins and I stay frozen in place as I immediately recognize the figure making the ruckus. As usual, it’s Matt. He always had to be in the middle of something.

Like he could feel my eyes on him, he looks over in my direction. It brings me back to all of the times we would go to the bar or to a club together with a few of his teammates and their partners. He would stay at the bar top or table and talk and I would go onto the dance floor or play pool with the girls. Throughout the night we would make eye contact with each other, just to check in with one another. It was a little way to let the other know that we loved them.

He still hasn’t changed a bit. Curly, dirty blonde locks that I would attempt to brush, a toothy smile that lights up my world, and a laugh that would instantly be followed by my giggles.

He stops pushing one of the rookies, an expression of disbelief on his face as we maintain eye contact.

“Y/N,” he murmurs. The rookie stops pushing him back, and I can feel his eyes on me as well but all I can focus on is Matt. I don’t want to move my eyes from him. I don’t want to lose him again.

I smile shyly, still unconfident in his response to seeing me. “Hi, Matt.”

He takes a step closer to me, hesitantly, like he’s afraid of getting too close. I don’t know if it’s because of what I did to him years ago or if it’s because he’s feeling like I am, like he’s afraid this isn’t real and he’ll lose me again.

“What are you doing here?” He questions softly.

“I’m working as an interior designer now. I’m here to renovate this place,” I explain, motioning around us. He doesn’t move his eyes to take in what I’m explaining, instead keeping them on me.

“Your hair is short now,” he notes gently.

“Yeah, it’s, um, easier to manage.”

“It looks nice.”

I smile softly at him and he smiles back. Some wrinkles have formed around his eyes with age, and he looks bulkier and broader in person than he does in the photos on social media, but it’s just like the Matt that used to take me on dinner dates to Panera.

Kelsea appears by my side again. “I see you met our Flames captain, Matthew Tkachuk. Matt, this is Y/N, the interior designer. She’ll be around for probably the next year until the renovation is expected to end.”

“The next year,” he echoes.

“Yep, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me,” I state, gauging his reaction.

The wide grin that forms on his face gives me his answer that he’s more than okay with that.

~

“Mommy?” Her tiny voice pierces the silence of the dark room. I stop myself from closing the door, surprised that she’s still awake. I thought she fell asleep twenty minutes ago, that’s why I came in to tuck her in and turn off her sound machine.

“Yes, honey?” I inquire quietly.

“Did you know that the last time the Cubs won the World Series was in 2016?”

I chuckle at that. “I didn’t know that, thank you for letting me know.”

“That was like ten billion years ago!” She exclaims.

Well, it wasn’t that long ago. 2016 was also the year that Matthew was drafted. He would tell me stories about draft day, from what his dad said to him to looking at the responses on social media.

“It’s time to get to bed, Naomi.” I slip back into her room, turning the sound machine back on and soothing down my daughter’s messy hair. Her blue eyes blink up at me as she watches me. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, mama. I love you.”

My heart swells at her words and I lean down to kiss her forehead. “I love you too, munchkin.”

I head into Wyatt’s room next, hoping that he’s already asleep. Just my luck, he’s sitting up in bed, stuffed bunny in his hands as he tugs at the ears. When he notices me in the doorway he lays down and closes his eyes, pretending to be asleep.

I roll my eyes but can’t fight the smile growing on my face, stepping closer to his bed. “I know you’re awake, Wyatt.”

He opens his eyes and pouts up at me. “I can’t sleep here, mommy. I want to sleep with you in your bed.”

He reaches out, grasping my arm and holding on tightly. “Can you please try to sleep in your bed?”

“No,” he whines loudly. I shush him, afraid that if he whines too loud, he’ll prevent Naomi from sleeping in the next room over.

“Why don’t I lay with you for a bit,” I suggest.

“No, I wanna sleep in your bed,” he repeats, big tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

“Just for tonight, okay?” I say like I’ve been doing for the past two nights. I know he’s at the age where it’s vital for him to be in his own bed to help with his growth and separation anxiety, but I can’t help but to take him to my room sometimes.

It’s nice to have someone to cuddle with, and it’s my baby. Someday he won’t want to cuddle or spend time with me so I have to cherish the time I have with him now.

He nods and I carry him into my room, laying down on my bed and pulling him into an embrace. Naomi wasn’t big on snuggling when she was little and she still isn’t, so I take advantage of my one child who wants me to hold on tight to him as hard as I can.

And I’m going to do it, too. It definitely beats being alone.

~

Another weekend alone. Pretty soon into my relationship with Curtis and my journey to self-improvement my friends began to encourage me to cheat on Curtis as well. Something about how he was trying to change me, he didn’t really like me for me- I don’t know, I honestly don’t really care.

I cut them off after that. I haven’t really made a lot of friends since then. In college I was pregnant, and then taking care of my daughter, so I wasn’t really interested in spending time making friends. Now that I have a full-time job, if I’m not working I’m bonding with my children.

But then three years ago Curtis and I ended our relationship and now, every other weekend I’m alone, waiting for Sunday night to come so I can focus on my children again.

“Mommy!” The front door opens, and a tiny blonde comes storming into the house, barreling into my open arms.

“Hi honey, how was your weekend with daddy?” I inquire, kneeling down to her level to pull her into my hold better.

“It was fun, we went to the park and daddy pushed me and Wyatt on the swing set,” she gushes. “Then he took us out for ice cream!”

I can’t help but feel my heart tighten at her words. I love that the kids are getting to spend time with their father, but I miss them when they’re with their dad. I also can’t help but to think of the moments we would have as a family if Curtis and I hadn’t ended things.

I’m about to respond when Wyatt comes running through the door, joining our hug.

“Mom, dad told me that I can start taking hockey lessons,” he informs me excitedly.

I snap my head up to stare at a sheepish Curtis standing in the doorway, Wyatt’s backpack in one hand and Naomi’s backpack in the other.

“Did he now?” I ask. Wyatt nods enthusiastically, reaching over to leave a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “Why don’t you two go put your backpacks in your room.”

They nod and I watch as they grab their stuff from their father, rushing up the stairs towards their rooms.

“You told him that he could take hockey lessons? Without consulting me?” I question, taking a step closer to him and lowering my voice. I don’t want the kids to hear me yell, but I am furious on the inside.

“Come on, Y/N, he asked. What was I supposed to do, say no?” He responds.

I’m about to respond when he cuts me off. He always used to do that when we were dating, and it still angers me just as much as it does now. “Besides, Naomi plays baseball so it’s only fair for Wyatt to play hockey.”

“I agree that Wyatt should have an activity to do,” I start slowly, “But we agreed that things like this would be split 50/50 and I cannot afford to buy a bunch of expensive hockey equipment and spend money on lessons right now.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. “Really? With all of the money I give you in child support you can’t afford this?”

I narrow my eyes at him and open my mouth to rip him a new one when Wyatt comes running down the stairs, yelling about a new dinosaur toy that grandma got him. This conversation will have to wait for now.

~

“Thank you, Christopher, I’ll be over in about an hour with Kelsea to look over some options,” I inform the manufacturer, hanging up the phone and exiting the secluded corner that I found.

I head back over to the offices near the locker room where the construction will start. A few of the workers are already tearing up the old tile and dirty trim but I keep my eyes peeled for one worker in particular.

“Jeremy,” I call out when I see him.

The older man rises from the floor, brushing his hands off on his pants and giving me a wrinkly smile. “Hey, Y/N.”

“I need your advice,” I confess. When I first started working for this company Naomi was only a year old. I was a stressed-out mom who was fresh out of college and was unsure of how to balance mom life and work.

Jeremy took me under his wing, having a daughter himself who’s just a few years older than Naomi. Now I always go to him whenever I’m not sure I’m doing something right as a parent.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

I explain the situation of Wyatt refusing to sleep in his own bed to Jeremy shyly. I know he’s not judgmental, since he’s helped me through plenty of parenting situations, but it still makes me feel insecure that I can’t handle these things on my own.

“You just need to start telling him no,” Jeremy replies, like it’s that simple.

“But what if he yells? He might wake Naomi up,” I argue.

He shrugs. “Close both of their doors, turn up their sound machines, and let it be. He needs to start sleeping in his own bed now before he’s fifteen and still sleeping with you.”

I sigh, knowing he’s right. It wouldn’t be good for either of us to continue this arrangement. “Thanks for the advice, Jeremy.”

“No problem, Y/N. Hey, how did Naomi’s baseball game go last week?”

“Her team won! She got all the way to third base on one hit, I’m so proud of her.”

“That’s amazing! You’re a great mom.”

I smile at the compliment, watching him return to his work before I turn around, stopping dead in my spot as I see who’s behind me. Matthew is frozen, his face blank as he stares at me, his mouth agape slightly.

It’s clear he just heard what Jeremy said to me.

“You’re a mom?” He breathes out.

“Yes.”

“Naomi and Wyatt?” He inquires, repeating the names he overheard. I nod silently. “How old are they?”

“Naomi is six and Wyatt is three,” I answer.

“Six and three,” he repeats. I watch his eyes flicker to the wall in thought, clearly processing something in his brain. His eyes snap back to mine and he clears his throat. When he speaks again, it’s louder this time, more confident. “Naomi likes baseball?”

“Yeah. Her favorite team is the Chicago Cubs, actually,” I grin at that, letting out a little giggle as Matt wrinkles his nose at the sound of his favorite baseball team’s rival.

“And Wyatt, does he like baseball too?”

“Wyatt likes hockey,” I confess, watching as the hockey player’s face lights up in interest. “He wants to play, but since it’s so late in the season and everything he’ll just have to wait until next season to join a team and learn how to skate.”

“Well, I can teach him,” he offers.

“You would do that?” I ask quietly, sensing that this is much more than him wanting to teach a three-year-old how to skate.

“Of course I would,” he accepts, maintaining eye contact as he says the words.

I let out a small smile, watching as the corners of his lips peak up as well.

“Okay.”

#nhl imagines #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #nhl one shots #Matthew Tkachuk x reader #nhl story #bmsomeday

[pocket-monsters-precure]

Chapter 21: File Not Found!? A Negative Missing Number!

This week’s nega-evolution was designed by @dai-rokuten-maou​ !

Guest appearances by Fanfancures by @salsasprecure​ and @bubblemahouhub ! 

“Hnnnngh…”

 With a grunt, Alice stretched herself as she leaned back in her chair, taking off her glasses briefly to rub her eyes. She got screen headaches much more quickly these days; she figured it was just a sign of getting older. But she still had more to add to her database; how could she possibly continue to be on top of her research into pokemon health if she didn’t keep up with the new information on nega-evolution provided by the Precure?

 A slight rumbling noise came from her lap, as she looked down to see Penumbra staring curiously back up at her; the Umbreon had been disturbed from its slumber when she stretched.

 “Oh…sorry,” she apologized softly, gently scratching her companion under the chin. “Though…seeing you sleepy like that makes me realize I should probably get some rest, too.”

 She looked back to her computer and navigated to the start menu, noting the computer wanted to update before shutting down. “Alright…there we go.” She selected the proper option before turning off the monitor, picking up Penumbra in her arms as she stood up. She couldn’t stop learning, now…for the sake of both people and Pokemon. And for the sake of the group’s new, reluctant ally in the form of a highly dangerous escaped genetic experiment, but he wasn’t there that evening.

 As she prepared to crawl into bed that evening, she stopped to lower the blinds on her window, obscuring her from the prying eyes outside.

  =====

 “Alice Pierce, pokemon researcher specializing in the field of pokemon health and medicine….” Bedlam muttered, arms crossed as he went over his gathered information aloud while lounging in a tree. “Yeah, I can see why they’d look to her for guidance.”

 “There you are!” Ataxia appeared on an upper branch, sitting daintily and looking displeased. “Return at once. Lord Tumult has informed us all of some strategic changes. All of us, that is, except for you.”

 “I’m assuming the changes aren’t all that different from the old strategies,” Bedlam shrugged, “Nega-evolve pokemon. Be defeated by a bunch of little girls. Swear revenge. Repeat.”

 Ataxia huffed. “If only you’d put a little bit more enthusiasm into this. Once Dys has enough sustenance to breach the worlds, we can expand, and create the paradise meant for us! Does that not appeal to you at all!? Don’t you want to succeed!? Don’t you want a world where everyone’s as wayward and lost as those Tumult has brought into his service? Where we can all be brought together by Dys, and never struggle or worry again?”

 “Quit with the preaching. Of course I wanna succeed,” Bedlam replied, “But frankly, I find it just a bit odd that Tumult hasn’t lifted a finger to do anything.”

 “Tumult answers directly to Dys!”

 “Whom none of us have seen up close. How do we know Tumult isn’t lying, or trying to screw us over so he looks better?”

 Ataxia sputtered. “A-are you…are you questioning your very mission, Bedlam!?”

 “I’m trying to figure out a new way, without Tumult. I’m going to strike at the heart of the Precure on this island….and if it works, then we can repeat the strategy across this world…”

 Ataxia watched him in silence for a moment. Then, she sat down next to him. “Well, then…be a team player. Tell me what you’ve learned so far, won’t you?”

 Bedlam looked back at her, briefly surprised. Then, he nodded.

 ===

 “Ready, and—!” Naomi set the volleyball, before leaping up as a mischievous glint flashed in her eyes, staring down Kailani opposite her.

 Kailani, meanwhile, froze. “I’m beginning to think I made a mistake—“

 “—SPIKE!” Naomi slammed her fist into the ball, smashing it down into Kailani’s head as she let out an unladylike squawk and fell over into the sand. The girls were playing out on the beach on a weekend day, having finished some difficult exams (and balancing that with battling nega-evolutions). It had been about a week since the previous incident, and though the girls had been keeping the island safe, nega-evolutions were still cropping up across the globe, and Rotomi hadn’t shown any new developments ability-wise, despite continuing to absorb the nega-energy left behind after each purification.

 “Kailani! Are you alright?” Fae called from the blanket where she sat with Asuka and Clefable; Asuka was focused on a tablet in her hands, while Clefable was sunning herself.

 “I’m…okay…!” Kailani called out, finally sitting up and rubbing her head. “Come to think of it, anyone know where Raichu is?”

 “He’s over there,” Naomi pointed, seeing Raichu surfing with his tail on some small waves out on the water, Rotomi flitting after him. “Looks like he got tired of watching us.”

 “Poor guy…I’m sure he misses the waves in Alola; they were much larger than these. We used to surf together.”

 “I’m much more of a windsurfing person, myself,” Naomi said, “Anyway, you wanna try again? I won’t spike anymore.” She held out her hand.

 “Yeah, let’s try again…” Kailani accepted the hand offered to her, standing up.

 Back with Fae and Asuka, the former glanced to the latter. “You seem really focused on something. You haven’t even let any of your pokemon out like you said you would.”

 “Huh? Oh! Ohh!!” Asuka hurriedly took out two pokeballs, releasing her Cyndaquil and Scizor. “I should shuffle my team more…I’d release the whole team but we shouldn’t crowd the beach.”

 “What’s on your mind? You’ve been glued to your tablet…” Fae tipped her head a bit as Asuka glanced back at the tablet.

 “It’s…this news from the Galar region. A nega-evolved dynamax pokemon appeared.”

 “Dynamax!? Those are huge, aren’t they!? That must have been absolutely massive once it nega-evolved!”

 “It was stopped by two Cures—Cure Monarch and Cure Phantasm. What luck they showed up…”

 “Nega-evolved and dynamaxed…the Cures in Galar must really have it tough.”

 “You’re telling me…” Asuka frowned as she looked back at the article on the screen. “And we already know that they can nega-evolve people…”

 Fae watched her face for a bit, trying to read her expression. “It’s okay, Asuka. I’m scared too. We’re all scared.”

 “We just…need to go over all the information we have,” Asuka muttered. “Maybe…maybe I’ll feel a bit better after we do that.”

 Asuka always preferred cold, hard facts. She liked being well-informed before making decisions. Being a Precure hadn’t always given her the luxury of that, but since they seemed to have some downtime, it was time to catch up.

 Nega-Evolution was spreading like a disease.

 More Precure were popping up, as if her world was creating antibodies, of a sort, to combat it.

 Darkness was a sickness…and they were the cure for it. It made sense. To her, anyway.

 As she was pondering this, Fae got an idea.

 “I’ve got it!” Fae tapped a fist in her palm. “Why don’t we go to Dr. Pierce’s place later and ask to see her collected notes? I know she’s been trying to keep things organized for us…”

 A rustling sound came from Fae’s bag as Rotomi burst out of it. “I need her to update her database from the Cure Dex anyway!”

 Asuka looked at the pair of them, as a smile began to cross her features. “That…would help a lot.”

 ===

 Meanwhile, in Johto…

 “Brace!” Cure Faith shouted—the trio of Sacred Beast Precure crossed their arms in front of them to absorb the blow of a shockwave caused by a Nega-Stantler, skidding back from the impact. The beast leered at them with a piercing, enraged glare, its sharpened, hooked antlers ready to gore anyone who got too close. It was rather small for a nega-evolution, but was still larger than the average Stantler; this beast stood about one story tall, and was making up for its smaller stature with pure rage. It dug a hoof into the ground angrily, before charging.

 “Shining—“ with a twirl, Cure Cascade sent a jet of water toward it to force it back, “—Torrent!”

 “How ‘bout this!?” Flash shouted, and with the snap of her fingers, she electrified the jet of water. A gruntlike, pained roar emitted from the nega-evolution, but as the jet of water ended, the creature still stood, its antlers beginning to glow with a sinister aura.

 “That’s a problem…!” Faith ran forward, before digging her fingers into the earth with unnatural strength and hurling a large chunk of solid earth at the beast—not only did the chunk break into smaller pieces as the incoming blast from its antlers was fired, but the chunks smashed into Nega-Stantler’s head, causing it to stagger.

 “Nice!” Flash pumped a fist, “About time we caught it off-guard, right?”

 “Let’s hurry!” Faith turned to face the other two. They shared a nod, holding out their hands as three large, golden, intricate fans appeared in their hands.

 “Open!” They declared in unison, opening the fans with the snap of their wrists. “Miracle Matsuri Fans!”

 “Precure!” They began to dance a choreographed routine, with grand, sweeping gestures, the fans seeming to leave trails of light as they moved. “Miracle Matsuri Refresh!”

 In a brilliant flash of sparkles, Nega-Stantler was defeated, the original Stantler left dizzily standing in its place. Shaking the dizziness away, it approached the Precure, seeming to understand the situation and nuzzling Faith before giving her a hearty lick on the face.

 “Ack—!” Faith made a face, as it scampered off into the brush.

 “Done and done.” Flash dusted off her hands, before flipping her massive, swirling ponytail.

 “At least it wasn’t more than one this time…” Cascade rubbed her temple with a hand.

 “Wait, what about the Shadowlings our pokemon were dealing with!?” Faith yelped in realization.

 “Grrrowf!” A voice declared, as Faith’s Growlithe ran toward them, joined by an excited Azumarill; Noctowl swooped down to join them.

 “Oh, thank goodness….!” Faith knelt down to catch Growlithe in her arms, sighing in relief.

 “Come on, we better hurry back to the National Park,” Flash grinned as she ruffled Noctowl’s feathers. “We might be able to catch the end of the Bug-Off! We can update the group doc later!”

 It seemed, even without someone like Rotomi to guide them, the Precure across the other regions were developing their own ways to learn and keep track—be it with technology or simply word of mouth. As the girls reverted to their true forms and headed back toward the National Park, the girl who was Cure Cascade was already pulling out her phone, accessing where they kept their notes, eager to jot down the information before it had a chance to leave her memory.

 ===

 “It’s a lot more to look at than I expected…” Asuka admitted as she sat before Dr. Pierce’s computer. The Cure Dex was connected nearby, Rotomi humming contentedly inside.

 “It’s not just notes we’ve gathered,” Dr. Pierce explained, “I’ve been keeping up with news headlines, and speaking to colleagues located in other regions to learn about their own experiences. Don’t try and overwhelm yourself, Asuka; it’s best to do things in bits and pieces.”

 “Hang in there,” Kailani reassured her, “If you find anything new or interesting, let us know! We’d hate to crowd around you while you’re trying to read. We’ll just help Dr. Pierce around the house.”

 Asuka looked over her shoulder at them, giving a smile and a nod. With that, she got to reading, looking at files that had names that piqued her interest—she was fortunate that most of them were fairly easy to read; they didn’t use a lot of complicated language like she was expecting. All this information now at her disposal…and more.

 But as she went over a headline regarding the spreading nega-evolution cases, something occurred to her.

 “Rotomi?”

 “Yes?” Rotomi’s voice came from the Cure Dex.

 “Your whole world suffered from this nega-evolution thing, right?”

 A pause, then a sad reply. “Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

 “…we’ve never bothered to ask you what it was like, have we? A world entirely nega-evolved.”

 A longer pause. “It’s really sad. I didn’t wanna bring it up in detail unless someone asked.”

 “Well…” Asuka debated opening up a word processor to note down what she was about to hear, but opted instead to just…listen. “…I’m asking now.”

 Rotomi exited the Cure Dex, looking down at the floor before floating into Asuka’s hands.

 “It’s dark. It’s hard to breathe, the air is so thick with…not something physical, but…just..this unease. This unfixable feeling that nothing is right. That nothing will ever be right. The people and creatures nega-evolved are shells of who they used to be. There’s no warmth or comfort. No satisfaction. It feels like whatever the solution is to whatever ails them…is just out of their reach.”

 Asuka listened, her stomach dropping. “That sounds horrible. I’m so sorry…”

 “It’s supposedly to feed ‘Dys.’ Whoever that is; I’m not sure. But what kind of person…what kind of thing…feeds off the misery of others? That’s just…that’s terrible. And…” Rotomi’s eyes saddened even further. “To think that…that Amaranth might be going through the same thing right now…”

 Asuka brought Rotomi to her chest, as if to hug her. “It’s okay. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to not know, and to worry. I’m sure Amaranth is worried about you, too. But we’ll find a way to save your home. And to help the people and pokemon here who were nega-evolved. And you’ve been getting stronger by absorbing the leftover energy, so maybe you still have things you’ve yet to figure out you can do! Even then…you’re safe, and you’re with people who will stay by your side until this is over.”

 Rotomi looked up at Asuka, smiling a bit. “…thank you.”

 “Of course, Rotomi. Any time you need reassurance, just tell me.”

 Asuka looked back at the screen, setting Rotomi carefully on the desk as she got back to skimming the notes; the little fairy flew back into the Cure Dex.

 Some time later, the girls were gathered around the coffee table while Dr. Pierce set down some tea and cakes. Asuka was sharing her notes with the group as they enjoyed the snack.

 “Dr. Pierce has been keeping notes on not just the nega-evolutions we’ve defeated, but any that her colleagues have encountered,” Asuka began, “Thankfully, some of said colleagues are also working with Precure…”

 “I’m currently adding their data to your Cure Dex,” Dr. Pierce explained as she looked over from her computer.

 “We were correct in assuming they just use warped versions of moves the pokemon knows,” Asuka continued.

 “Like Mr. Mime’s Trick Room, that shuffled the rooms at school!” Naomi piped up.

 “Exactly. But now there’s the matter of Shadowlings…”

 “They’re not physical pokemon, thankfully,” Kailani said, looking at the notes Asuka had written, “But they can be battled like any normal pokemon. I think we should be able to just leave those to our own pokemon in most situations.”

 “Chu-chu!” Raichu threw a little cake in the air in joy, as it landed on his head when he was unable to catch it and seemed to forget he had psychic powers.

 “…you’re lucky you’re cute,” Kailani sighed.

 “That reminds me,” Fae started, “There’s apparently this place in Sinnoh that, if you don’t take a ‘cute enough’ pokemon…”

 As the conversation started to derail, Asuka tried to get the group back on track. Dr. Pierce watched quietly, before hearing a knock at her door.

 “Hold on…” Dr. Pierce stood up to answer the door. “I’m coming!”

 However, the moment she opened the door, the girls heard her cry out in alarm. “Dr. Pierce!?” Kailani called as they stood up from the table, rushing to the foyer to find her in the process of sitting up, looking up in shock and fear at the new arrival…

 “Hello, ladies.” Ataxia waved a hand daintily as she stepped into the room, heels clacking on the hardwood floor. “Or, should I say, Pretty Cure?”

 “Ataxia!” Rotomi cried out, “You…you’re here!?”

 “I thought today I’d take a bit more of a direct approach.”Ataxia rotated her wrist, the Nega-Ring flashing briefly on it. With a flourish, she prepared to summon a ring of nega-energy.

 “Not so fast…!” Kailani and the girls pulled out their compacts, while Ataxia was already in the motion of preparing to cast it toward them—only to turn and direct it at Dr. Pierce.

 “Wha—“ “NO!” Rotomi shot out of the Cure Dex and smashed her tiny body into Dr. Pierce, knocking her over as the force knocked the Cure Dex off the table—which landed in the dark circle that had formed where Dr. Pierce once stood.

 It shook, rattled, as the darkness spread down the cable connecting the Cure Dex to the computer. The lights flickered, the air grew tense, and numerous error messages appeared on the screen. Before, finally

ERROR: MISSING_NO.();

 The darkness shot out the window.

 “Wait!” Kailani darted past Ataxia, who quickly vanished while the remaining girls tried to register what just happened. Kailani came to a stop outside, finding the group’s foe.

 The beast hulking before her was an amalgamation—vaguely carrying the traits of pokemon she knew, yet all the same crossing way into the uncanny valley.

 “NEEEGAAAAAA….” It rumbled, its voice distorted, as if trying to speak through a poor speaker, or a damaged sound card. Ataxia reappeared sitting on top of the roof, legs crossed daintily.

 “My,” she remarked, “That’s an unusual nega-evolution, for sure.”

 “It’s a…computer error, or something!?” Naomi tried to comprehend as the other girls caught up to Kailani. “It Nega-evolved the Cure Dex itself!”

 “Missingno!” Asuka reasoned, “It’s…some kind of error that pops up in pokedexes sometimes when it can’t find what it’s looking for!”

 “How can a computer bug be Nega-evolved!? It’s just code!” Naomi argued.

 The creature seemed to glitch in response to this, as if angry. Then, it raised its misshapen hands in anger. “NEGA!”

 “Alright, enough!” Fae pleaded, “We need to deal with it before things get out of hand!”

 “Right…!” Kailani gripped her compact.

 “Precure! I! Choose! You!”

 “Swarm it!” Sunrise declared, the quartet of girls rushing Nega-Missingno at once. It glitched away just as Sunrise and Starlight lunged, the two crashing into each other.

 “What a surprise,” Starlight mumbled, “That didn’t work.”

 “Wish whimsy….” Wish started up an attack, when Nega-Missingno glitched in front of her. “Ohh—!”

 “NE!” Nega-Missingno swatted her away, giving off a sinister aura of binary code and nega-energy.

 “Gotcha—!” Willow caught her.

 “Thanks…” Wish muttered dizzily.

 “Wake-Up Shock!” Sunrise clapped her hands together, sending the bolt toward Nega-Missingno. It glitched in place, and the electricity had no effect when it struck. “Huh!?”

 “That thing’s made from a modded Pokédex; why isn’t electricity scrambling it!?” Starlight summoned Absol. “Type: Dark! Precure Wicked Whirl!”

 As the duo’s summoned cyclone of darkness approached Nega-Missingno, it glitched in place again, giving off a bright pink burst of light as the attack struck…once again, no effect.

 “Oh, come on!” Starlight complained. “What’s going on!?”

 “That pink light was almost like a fairy-type aura….” Wish muttered.

 “Like a fairy-type…and dark types can’t affect fairy-types….” Willow murmured. “…hey. I wanna try something. Dr. Pierce!” She turned toward the house.

 “Huh!? Y-you need me!?” Dr. Pierce cried out from the window.

 “You have a regular Pokédex, don’t you? Scan the nega-evolution!”

 “Scan it!? Oh, yes…!” Dr. Pierce came outside, holding a standard Pokédex as she aimed it at Nega-Missingno.

 ERROR: MISSING_NO.();

 “It’s coming up with the Missingno error!” Dr. Pierce called out, “…but…it’s showing a fairy-typing!”

 “Someone attack it!” Willow called out.

 “On it!” Sunrise whistled, as Raichu zapped out of the house. “Type: Psychic! Precure PK Spectacle!”

 Master and pokemon placed their hands to their temples, as a spiral of psychic energy launched itself toward Nega-Missingno. The nega-evolution gave off a dark aura as the attack struck. No effect.

 “Scan it again!” Willow ordered.

 “Same error! But….dark-type!?” Dr. Pierce called back.

 “That’s it!” Willow pumped a fist. “I know what’s going on! It’s changing type once it realizes what type the incoming attack is! That nega-evolution is literally a walking database of pokemon typings!”

 “Then how do we beat it!?” Sunrise asked, letting out a startled yelp as she dove away from an incoming swipe.

 “I’ve got an idea! Huddle!”

 The four Precure immediately moved into a huddle, much to the confusion of Nega-Missingno.

 “Nega?” It comically leaned in, trying to eavesdrop from multiple angles, before jumping back as the girls parted.

 “Ready!” Wish and Willow narrowed their eyes, each summoning a pokemon—Charizard appeared proudly behind Wish, as Cyndaquil joined Willow.

 “Type: Fire!” they cried out in unison. “Precure Passionate Inferno!”

 As the heart-shaped, rose gold-tinted blaze spiraled toward Nega-Missingno, it seemed to shift in place, before the flames struck, with no effect.

 “Ground-type!” Dr. Pierce called.

 “Now!” Willow shouted. Sunrise and Starlight leapt up from behind with Brionne and Sharpedo.

 “Type: Water! Precure Wild Geyser!”

 Before Nega-Missingno could react, the pastel-colored, sparkling geyser of water struck it in the back; as it impacted the ground, Fae’s Charizard flew up and unleashed a flamethrower, predicting it would then change its type to grass, burning it in the process.

 “Now!” Sunrise shouted as the girls regrouped.

 “Precure Quartet Refresh!”

 As the refreshing attack purified Nega-Missingno, it seemed to stare at the group, in silence, before slowly fading away…leaving the Cure Dex behind.

 “Ohhh…!” Ataxia stomped a foot, crossing her arms, before glancing at Dr. Pierce. “…..” she vanished.

 ===

 “That was some quick sleuthing you did, Asuka!” Kailani beamed; the girls were seeing off Asuka as she was waiting for the ferry to head home.

 “It was just standard type-advantage logic…” Asuka replied sheepishly.

 “We even have an entry on Nega-Missingno now!” Rotomi piped up from inside the Cure Dex.

 “But now we have a bigger problem,” Naomi spoke up.

 “Yeah,” Fae began, “It looked like Ataxia was specifically targeting Dr. Pierce….”

 “We’ll be sure to check on her every day, then!” Kailani pumped a fist. “And if Mewtwo comes back, he’ll be sure to check on her, I bet.”

 “If he comes back,” Naomi emphasized, “He doesn’t seem keen on forming any kind of bond with us, though.”

 “He wants to keep himself updated on Dr. Pierce’s research, so I’m sure he’ll return,” Asuka reasoned, “Don’t worry…”

 The ferry arrived, and Asuka boarded, waving to the group as the boat set sail. She replayed the day’s battle over in her head—despite it being an amalgamation of code and data, she couldn’t help but feel bad for Nega-Missingno. For the fleeting time it existed, it only knew to fight and defend.

 She sighed, then nodded to herself. That was likely how all nega-evolved pokemon felt. And that was terrible. Stepping away from the rail and going to sit down, that realization was all it too to reaffirm her mission—she would do whatever it took to keep any pokemon for feeling that way for long. She had to work faster, undo the nega-evolutions faster.

#precure #pocket monsters precure #pokemon precure #pokemon pretty cure #missingno #missingno. #story #chapter 21 #PMPC #pretty cure #precure fanseries #pretty cure fanseries #fancure

[othersworldly]

       hello, hello, its the double pisces you litcherally never asked for. i went into the tags, found this serotonin gyllenhaal and then accidentally named him after the new, popular character he plays on turkish tv after googling male names for 1 hour straight. if that doesn’t just explain who i am as a person i don’t know what else will. i’m twenty-three and legally cannot do math or i will explode. thank you for dealing with me and sorry in advanced but i can’t and won’t be tamed.

ÇAĞLAR ERTUĞRUL, MALE, HE/HIM, HELLHOUND   /   deep in the pacific northwest lives KEREM HAZAR. i heard they’ve been living there for a year and last saw them hanging around mount peak cemetery, i think they might’ve been tending to the forgotten grave markers. at three hundred and eleven years old, rem doesn’t look a day over thirty. everyone around here always associates them with the phantom warmth of a flickering flame, the rich timbre of an old engine roaring to life, and the icy smell of spearmint. hope they enjoy their stay ! ( naomi, pst, she/her, 23 )

B A S I C   I N F O R M A T I O N

LEGAL NAME: Kerem ‘Rem’ Hazar DATE OF BIRTH: December 12th  / sagittarius  GENDER | SPECIES |  Male / Hellhound

LIKE[S]: Winning, the smell of leather, fruit punch DISLIKE[S]: Losing, Lack of effort, Intolerance, Cheating

FEAR[S]: no fears . *taxes* .. one fear. 

PERSONALITY TRAITS: + CONFIDENT, STRONG-WILLED, SELF-DISCIPLINED    – RECKLESS, OVERLY COMPETITIVE.

P H Y S I C A L   I N F O R M A T I O N

HAIR COLOR: Brown EYE COLOR: Blue HEIGHT: 6′2″ BUILD: Athletic, Fit,

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: he always looks well-rested. very sus

STYLE: grey henleys, grey jeans, worn docs, he’s a casual guy with casual style

TATTOOS/PIERCINGS: brand of the hunt on his left peck.

R E L A T I O N S H I P   I N F O R M A T I O N

SEXUAL PREFERENCE: bisexual RELATIONSHIP STAT: legally allowed to leave if no one addresses him directly within 5 minutes of entering a room

pinboard //

more on rem

fire-fighter and certified emt

earth-toned babe who wears mostly greys and browns.

he wears glasses without a prescription because he thinks it makes him more approachable but he often just leaves them around and makes more work for himself by having to go out and hunt for them

lives in a one bedroom apt on the 8th floor of a moderately priced building that has a fire escape - which he uses more often the actual entrance 

pet german shepphard named beef stew,

yes beef is a rescue and yes, sometimes rem can be found shouting beef around the block if the four year old pup gets out while he’s gone.

very easy going - he has few personal rules and a few things he stands his ground on but for the most part he’s agreeable and will go anywhere he’s invited.

loves carbonara 

runs hot and likes winter but hates it at the same time because he has to carry a jacket around for looks. but on the bright side he always has a jacket for anyone who gets chilly

throughout the years he’s become really good at making bread. he proofs them in mason jars and holds them in his hands to cook them to buttery, flaky perfection

+ insert obsessive hobby here +

hellhound

other hellhounds know them as CEMRE a name they first picked up from a turkish mountain woman. she had muttered it softly at first, watching in awe and horror as they emerged unscathed from the flames that both announced their arrival on earth and wiped out an entire villiage in the frigid remnants of winter that is now known as february. 

walks the line of true neutral and chaotic neutral

when actively hunting they are known to do whatever it takes. but when dormant, they are nonplused with the whims of the factions - as long as the supernatural world is properly hidden from the mass populace.

has a preference for ghosts over banshees, but likes both well enough.

thinks witches are good fun because the only one who could demand things of him died a hundred years ago

has no generalized notion about other hellhounds.

understands werewolves in a primal sense but finds them dramatic

not too keen on vampires because the dead should remain dead

actively hunting dragons

connection ideas

bed brewing & beyond - a witch or demon hook up that he can call on for big asks. or he could go out and fetch things for them for $$$ of course. like uber eats but its a nymph skull and he’s covered in blood and its the 90s

casually dating - needless to say, he’s thirty and not even married. so he’s basically on the verge of death or something right? lol . so they casually date and appear at functions together, but its nothing over the top. he has the worst hours but tries to make time for them -- is what im imagining. but we can definitely tweak this to fit ur muse.

TRINITY chasing divinity - i’ve been in love with the idea of angels, of these celestial beings and what it must be like to choke on humanity. so why not just force that on my muse lol. i’d love fo him to just be infatuated ( so no pressure of requited feelings or nothing ) with a creature that exudes purity when he himself was created by the combined power of a demon and a dark witch

dd - besides being, ya know, literal fire, his metabolism burns through everything like it’s nothing. so you can 100% invite him for a night out and he will be your designated driver -- unless he has work of course. then you can call him, wasted af, and he will use his 15 minute break to come get you and tuck you in to bed.

everlasting mario kart - i know mk didn’t exist in the 90s or whatever, but basically they’re both immortals so they can and should fuck each other up ( in a siblings type way ) but the stakes are higher because they can survive most blow backs.

good omens - except we’re not on either side, we don’t care about the kid, and you’ve burnt the popcorn. good going paul

DRU AGOSTI lighthouses in the night -- i’ve been alive for a long time, you’ve been alive a long time. STOP MENTIONING THE TIME I WAS AN ICELANDIC SHEEP FARMER I WAS UNDERCOVER Jfc, yes of course i still know the best way to make sheep milk fuck you. wishing you a crap equinox you smug bitch

same face who dis - obvi has to be someone who can die but. he swears he’s seen you before. its just wild that you look so familiar. you remember me right? and he keeps on call ing your muse the wrong name and unlearning the things that he had previously learned. super flexi back story. heck i’ll even take two if people like it. could be exes, enemies, they fought in a war together and were brothers, they sailed across the ocean and it was very gay and also someone had scruvy? so many options! too many to list!

supermassive blackhole -- please invite him to the vampire baseball games. he can keep up i promise!!

or let’s brainstorm?! im bi and a pisces so i will just be happy for the attention honestly.

that’s it. that’s all i could think of during dbd. i will add more as i think of them/as we plot some out. i’m going to shower and eat an ice cream sandwich . peace out my dudes catcha ya on the other side

#inferisintro

[hxwkey3]

with x-men out, i need to know how the xmcu is doing and if it’s time for me to bring back Ruth Lehnsherr (Eisenhardt)

1934———— On April 24, at about 6:43 a.m., Ruth Naomi Lehnsherr was born in Germany to Edie and Jakob Lehnsherr. She was the younger of two, her brother Erik being 4 years older.

1935———— In September of 1935, the Nuremberg Laws are enacted and it is clear that things are most certainly changing in Germany. Ruth is a year old.

1939———–-In late November, the Lehnsherr family relocates to Warsaw to escape the inevitable in Germany after Kristallnacht. Ruth is 5 years old. 1940———— Ruth and her family are now living in the Warsaw ghetto. Conditions are worse than they’d thought it’d get just five years earlier. Jakob fears for his family and wants to escape but it seems impossble. Ruth turns six. 1941————Ruth falls sick and it makes escaping less likely for her family. She spends the year going through highs and lows until she finally starts to get better. She turns seven. 1942————Some of Ruth’s family goes out one morning. They don’t come back. They later learn that they’ve been taken to a concentration camp. Ruth is eight.

1944———— In Februrary, Ruth is out with an aunt and a cousin. They’re halfway home when they come. Before she knows it they’re rounded up and packed into a train car. She clings close to her aunt and cousin. The next light she sees is accompanied by the worst smell she’s ever experienced. She’s taken with her aunt and cousin and given different clothes, her hair is shorn off and she’s taken to what would be ‘home’. The next day, she’s immediately put to work in a factory. She’s never really sewed much. Her aunt shows her when the guards aren’t looking. In April, Ruth turns 10. She’s been in the camp for a few months and she’s seen people come and go. At 10, she’s already unfazed by death. She’s seen more death than possibly an undertaker. She barely recognizes her own hunger sometimes and sometimes she forgets that she’s even a person. She wonders about her parents and brother. Hopes that maybe she’ll see them one day but then also hopes that they escaped somehow. She can tell by her aunt’s face, however, that that’s unlikely. In the winter, the hunger is worse. She’s half the size she was when she came in and she’s able to hide easily. One of the women who works in the kitchen manages to smuggle some food out. She gives everyone just a little, she calls it a gift to help keep them all going. She’s a hopeful woman. She was a teacher before everything and Ruth thinks she would have liked a teacher like her. The gift does lift spirits some and, in her food, Ruth finds a carrot top. It’s silly but she remembers her mother sometimes growing certain vegetables from the scraps. She doubts it’ll work but she takes a chance hiding the scrap and then planting it in the furthest corner. A week passes and nothing happens. She still has hope and prays as hard as she can for a miracle, concentrating as hard as she can, wishing for the carrot to grow. When her eyes open, she has to blink several times to take in what she’s seeing. Sprouts. Actual sprouts. She can’t help but laugh and thank God for she believes it to be some kind of miracle. She hides them and shows only her aunt who is getting sick. She hopes that this will help some and help keep them alive. It takes her nearly a month to realize something both amazing and horrifying, it’s not God making the plants grow. It’s her. It’s an accidental discovery. A wishful thought looking at dead flowers around the fence when they suddenly spring back to life, new petals growing from the stem—-in the middle of December. Of course, she brushes it off at first but curiosly tries it again. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t quite work the way she wanted it too. She knows, whatever this is, it’ll get her into trouble. So, she keeps her mouth shut. She doesn’t bring it up to anyone. This is her secret. And slowly, she learns more of what she can do. She doesn’t mean to heal her aunt, but she does. She wishes and hopes while pressed against the older, sleeping woman. And the next morning, it’s as if she wasn’t ever sick. Everyone in the barracks says it’s a miracle. Ruth is sure it was her. 1945————In 1945, it’s over. Every horror she’d experienced is destroyed and her salvation comes in red, white and blue. She hopes her family is seeing this wherever they are but she doubts it. Her cousin died just weeks before and she and her aunt mourn that loss. She’s thankful to be able to walk freely, sleep in a bed and eat. She wants to eat everything. She doesn’t even care about keeping Kosher anymore. Whatever she can handle, she wants. It’s not easy at first, but slowly she and her aunt return to some kind of normal. They don’t look like skeletal creatures anymore, her hair is starting to look healthy and she feels…hope. Near the end of that year, she and her aunt, along with a few others, decide to leave Poland and its memories behind. They’re going to a place where anything is possible. They’re going to America. To New York City. Ruth is now 11. 1946————In September of 1946, Ruth starts school. She’s a couple of years behind and her English is poor but she works hard to make up for that. It’s odd, she’s 12 now and her peers are 9 and 10. But they’re nice to her. She spends extra time studying as much as she can and a teacher offers to help her with her English. When she isn’t working on things for school, she helps her aunt at her job. Working for a seamstress. Ruth hated the job at first. She’d spent all that time in the concentration camp doing this and now she’s back, stitching again. But she learns to like it. It’s different to do when you aren’t making the same thing over and over and fear messing up because that would mean death. This is peaceful. The couple who own the shop are elderly and kind. The old woman, Mrs. Wilson, teaches Ruth to embroider along with knit and crochet. She makes them cookies for the holidays and even gives Ruth special treats on her birthday. She’s also impressed with Ruth. The girl is a natural. She stitches almost perfectly and has an eye for patterns and math. She makes it her mission to teach Ruth everything she can. 1948————After lots of hard work, Ruth catches up to her peers and is able to skip into her proper grade. She’s 14 and starting high school and she’s adjusted to living in America. Her English is much better and she’s actually making friends. Her abilites have continued to develop more and she has much better control over them. She doesn’t have to try to make things grow anymore, the earth is seemingly at her command. Still, she keeps it under wraps. It’s not something she’s proud of and she knows it’s weird. She knows she’s weird but no one else needs to know that. Her aunt keeps her secret as well and they live a quiet life. In November, Mrs. Wilson gets sick. She and her husband decide to move where she can get better care. They pack up and sell everything. Except the shop. They give the shop to Ruth and her aunt. It’s their’s now to continue giving out quality service. Shortly before the year ends, they get a letter, Mrs. Wilson has died. 1950————In 1950, Ruth turns 16. She’s a grade A student, she’s spent countless hours shredding as much of her accent as possible and she’s started dating. Boys in America are fun. She likes going out with them and she likes kissing them. It’s hard for her to believe that her life has become so simplistic. Her first years spent in fear and now, her biggest concern is if she wants to go to prom with George or with Allen. She’s actually happy. She doesn’t think about her family now. It’s easier not to. She wishes she could erase their names and faces from their memories. But she can’t. She knows that much. Instead, she focuses on working in the shop, being a good student and living the life of an all-American Teenager. 1952————In June of 1952, Ruth graduates high school. She’s 18. She’s beautiful and she’s got plans. She wants to study fashion. She loves the idea of creating new looks and fantasizes about having her ideas on a runway one day. Her, the little girl who should have died a long time ago, becoming known worldwide. She’s even gotten into a design school. She wants to create clothes that reflect the beauty of the world around them. Of nature. In the fall she starts school and she knows she’s made the right choice. 1953————In January of 1953, her Aunt falls sick. She tells Ruth not to worry. To stay in school and keep studying. Ruth visits as often as she can during the semester, skipping a trip with friends to be with the only family she has. Late in August, her aunt dies. Ruth is 19. Ruth is alone.For the first time in years, Ruth cries. She cries for everything that she’s lost. Her mother. Her father. Her Brother. Uncles. Aunts. Cousins. She weeps for all of them. She doesn’t go back to school in the fall. She stays and continues the shop. She works hard and hires a couple of people to help her as she learns how to be a business woman instead. 1963————In 1963, Ruth turns 29. She’s unmarried. She’s successful enough. And she’s content. There are a few men that she sees and one she rather likes but her fear of any of them finding out what she could do…it kept her closed off. Of course, everyone admired her 'green thumb’. She always had beautiful flowers, a wonderful garden and always seemed to be in good health. She’d decided that she was meant to be alone. That everyone she’d loved had been taken from her and she was okay with that now. She couldn’t change that. She kept up with local news, voted in the elections (she’d become a citizen shortly after turning 18), paid her taxes and followed the law. She preferred keeping her nose down in nearly every circumstance (except civil rights, she knew what blind hatred did and she refused to turn a blind eye). She was a fan of their current president and had high hopes for what he’d accomplish, so, it was a shock to see the headlines announcing his assasination. An even bigger shock when she saw who’d been deemed responsible. That was impossible. There was no way that this madmanwas her brother. In some ways, the man did resemble the memory she had but the picture weren’t as good as they could be and maybe it was just a big coincedence. After all, her brother had died. Hadn’t he? For the next few months, she’d laugh off and deny any relation to the Lehnsherr who’d killed the president. It’s just a nasty coincedence and it’s disgusting what that man did. 1973 to present————Ruth is 39 in 1973. Not much has changed in her life. Not much, except learning that perhaps there were many more people in the world like her. She sees the man on tv like everyone else. And this time, there’s no denying it. She can see him clearly and she’s certain that man is her brother. Only, that man is a monster. That man isn’t the boy who’d held her and told her to be brave. Who’d walked with her, hand tight in his. No, he’s not her big brother. He’s someone else. Someone she doesn’t know. Doesn’t _want_ to know. She can barely register his words. She knows that people are scared of their kind, and it’s odd for her to think of herself as part of a new group, but war is never the answer. His words are incendiary and the next few moments are a blur. She has to sit down when it’s over. How had it come to this? What made her brother become that? And, for the first time since she was small, she feels that fear. That fear that someone will come into her house and take her away because, to them, she’s subhuman. But she’s kept her secret. And no one even knows she’s here. And this is America. Things like that don’t happen in America. She turns off the tv. She’s not going to think about that again. Erik Lehnsherr is dead. And he’s going to stay that way.

ABILITIES: AGROKINESIS, PLANT GENERATION, HEALING

#⇻: THE GREATEST IMPROVISOR KNOWN TO MAN ⁞⁞||◤ooc◢ #bio under cut from my old old blogs XD

[longliveninokuni]

Love Letters

Part of the EOA Ship Appreciation Week on Discord.

It's time for the Festival of Love: where Avalorans give letters to the people they love. But what happens when Naomi gets a letter from the anonymous person who usually gives her one asks her to meet in person? Will she meet them? Who could this secret admirer be?

Ff.net link if you prefer: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13207795/1/Love-Letters

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! Also, I'm sorry that I'm getting this story to you just now, yesterday's story was tough to write. So, I'm saying I just finished this story. Today's theme is "Valentine's Day," but I don't recall if the Ever Realm celebrated it. So I came up with another holiday to compensate. Enjoy! And hopefully, tomorrow's story will also be finished tomorrow.

Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit, fan-based, fanfiction. Elena of Avalor is owned by the Walt Disney Corporation and Craig Gerber. Lady Elma is my OC; thus she belongs to me. Please support the official release.

"Aww, did the loser not get any letters for the love festival? Boohoo. Hahaha!" Said one of the many bullies Naomi must deal with daily.

In Avalor there is currently a festival going on for the day: The Festival of Love. No, not the one associated with Dia de Los Muertos. This one, this is associated with showing love to those who have meaning to you, be they friend, family, or lover. And at the end of the day, there is always a ball where the people can gather and dance with the people they love and cherish.

But before that, every citizen gives letters to the people they love, be they platonic or romantic. It helps sets the mood for the ball.

Naomi, however, has never gotten any letters, except her friends and parents. She was always sad, especially during her first festival. No one from school gave her letters.

But then she got her first letter that wasn't from her friends or her parents. "You look better when you smile." It read, and in the bottom corner was a drawing of her smiling. No one signed it, and she didn't recognize the handwriting. It was her favorite letter. And when she showed it to everyone in the palace, they were all thrilled. Estéban however only came up with a snarky remark but kept it in his usual teasing tone.

Her second one, she got another letter from the same person. "Did you have to score the winning point in olaball? Now I have to be impressed." Then there was a drawing of her scoring the winning point in olaball. It was still her favorite. But while she did get a letter on her third one, this one complementing her book smarts with a drawing of her sleeping face down in a book, she got another letter from a guy in her school who wanted to dance with her at the ball. She was excited and said yes, making some of her female bullies jealous.

During the ball, the two danced and were having fun, but then the guy pulled her out of the ballroom to a random hallway and tried to push himself on her. He only wanted to bed her. Naomi didn't want it, she tried to push him off, but he had a knife. He cut her cheek a little, enough to draw blood, and warned her to stay still and let it happen. Before he could use his knife to cut her dress, his hand was stopped by another one, and it was squeezing the boy's hand painfully tight. When the two looked over, it was Estéban who had stopped the boy's hand. And he was giving the guy a death glare. "If you don't want to spend the rest of your life in the dungeon for assaulting a member of the Grand Council, then I suggest you stop what you're doing right now and leave." He said in a low, threatening voice — all while tightening his grip. The boy shakenly nods his head and was in tears.

Estéban scoffs and lets's go of the boy, letting him run off. He then turned to Naomi, who's been crying tears of fear. Estéban pulled out his handkerchief and carefully wiped her blood and tears off of her cheek. "Let's get this blood off you, get rid of the tears, then make your schoolmates jealous of your dancing." Naomi raised a brow. "You don't think I know what's been going on? When it comes to unnecessary pettiness, I think I take the crown." He smirked at Naomi's small giggle then holds out a hand. "Shall we?" And the two danced better than everyone from her school.

That was a good year, but now Naomi faces a new dilemma. "I want to meet you face to face tonight at the ball. Meet me at the fountain in the palace gardens at 6:00." Along with the info was a drawing of a rose in bloom. Naomi has no idea what to do. Should she meet him? Well, of course, he could be the love of her life. Or she. She's not one to judge.

"Ms. Turner, if you could so kind as to stop focusing on your letter, and start focusing on the task at hand, that would be splendid." Estéban just had to ruin her mental conversation, but he was right. Right now, they were discussing new ideas for tonight's ball.

"Hey, blame whoever left the letter here on my section of the table." Naomi found her letter here in the council room, along with everyone else.

Estéban growls but backs off and went back to discussing what ideas could be included in this year's Festival of Love.

Naomi tried to focus, but she couldn't. She kept thinking of who the author of these letters could be. Sure, there were only four, but she's already smitten with whoever wrote them. I wonder if they're anyone I know? She thought.

"MS. TURNER!" Ah, she's been caught daydreaming again.

"Naomi, we should get you a new dress for tonight's ball." Elena said out of the blue after the meeting. The only thing they could add to the ball this year was new food and a showcase of the letters given hanging from the ceiling.

Naomi raised a brow. "What? Why?"

Elena winked. "Because I want to see you in a new dress. You wear the same big purple dress to all the formal balls, and while it looks good, you can do better."

"But, you also-"

"No time to argue, I know of a new boutique that has gorgeous dresses. Let's go!" Elena said in a rush, leaving no room for Naomi to argue or refuse as she pushes her along.

When the two reached the shop, they were both amazed by the sight: dresses in different colors, body types, style, and most notably…

"No hoop skirts." Naomi stated. Yes, none of these dresses have the hooped skirts that most formal dresses usually have. All these dresses seem to fit the bodice from head to toe. "What is this?"

"The future of dress fashion." Said a voice. Then a woman came up from the back of the store. She has short dark green hair, glasses, blue eyes, wearing a plain orange apron, slippers, a long-sleeved yellow shirt, black pants, and is sucking a lollipop. She gives the women an intense stare. "Hoop skirts are out. Old fashioned. Dead. These dresses will make any man, or woman, crumble to their knees at the sheer beauty anyone would give off when wearing my designs."

Naomi was getting nervous. "Uh, Elena…?"

Elena however just pushed Naomi to stand in front of the woman. "Hi, I'm Elena, and my best friend Naomi needs a dress for the ball tonight!"

The woman looks over Naomi with a critical eye. "Hmm." She strikes her chin in thought. A few moments later, she snaps her fingers. "I got it." She grabs Naomi's wrist and pulls her. "Come! Fashion waits for no one!" And the two disappear to the back.

An hour later, the store owner came out with Naomi to show Elena the dress. "Well?"

Elena's eyes lit up, and she smiles big. "Oooh, Naomi, when your secret admirer sees you, they'll be fawning all over you!" She then turns to the store owner. "Thank you so much Lady Elma."

Lady Elma pushed her glasses. "Of course, I do my best." She then gets angry. "To rid this world of THE DREADED HOOPED SKIRTS!" She yells. She then feels a pull on her sleeve. She calms down and turns to the source, Naomi. "Yeah?"

"Uhh, where's the corset?"

"There isn't one. Those things are dreadful and unnecessary. My design is made to be sure of that." Lady Elma explained.

Naomi whimpers while Elena pays for the dress and thanks Lady Elma again.

It was now an hour before Naomi meets her secret admirer, and she's nervous. Especially with her dress. It seems too revealing; it leaves her whole back uncovered, and the only thing keeping it up is the tie at the back of her neck. She's blushing hard. "Elena, are you sure this dress isn't too...risqué?"

Elena smiled. "No, not at all, your secret admirer would fall to their knees and beg you to be with them."

Naomi sneered. "Elena, why are you so insisted that they'll react that way?" Then she gasps and points an accusing finger at her. "Do you know who it is?!"

Elena shifted her eyes. "Whaaaat? Nooooo. I don't know who it is." She scoffs, then stands. "Well you should get going, you're about to see the love of your life, bye!" And she ran.

Naomi groans and looks back at the mirror. "Well, guess I should get going." Then she leaves.

It was now 5:58 PM. And Naomi's starting to doubt herself. What if this person is pranking her? Or worse, what if they only want her for other stuff? What if they were in love with her then decide not to be once they see her in person?

It was now 5:59. Naomi takes a deep breath. "Okay, no need to panic. If they turn out to be a jerk, kick them in the shin and run." That's what Estéban told her to do the next time someone assaults her. Naomi cracks her neck, then looks at the time.

It's now 6:00 — time to get out there.

And when she does, her eyes widen in surprise, and she gasps. Standing in front of the fountain is Estéban. And when he looks at her, his face is immediately covered in a blush.

Naomi's stammering. "Uh, eh, Estéban? You wrote the letters? You?" She's also blushing.

Estéban cleared his throat and looked away, but still blushing. "...Yes." He said quietly, but Naomi still heard.

"Wha-What? Huh? Why? Was this all some sick prank?" She was starting to panic.

Estéban looked back at her, shocked. "What? No! It- well- ugh." He groans. He takes a deep breath, then exhales. "I was only trying to help."

During the first Festival of Love since Shuriki's supposed demise, Estéban immediately gave his letters to his family. Forty-one years of not seeing them and thinking one of them was dead can really do a person in. And after each letter was given, he'd give the family member a hug, which surprised all of them, but they returned the gesture. He didn't feel the need to give any more letters to anyone else.

But then he saw Naomi. She was down since no one from her school gave her a letter, probably due to jealousy. She didn't argue with him on anything, no matter how much he teased her. It gave him a strange feeling, seeing her so down. He deduced it to either pity or relatability. Yes, there was a time when Estéban never got letters from people other than his family. These days, he knows that the family ones are all that should matter. But Naomi? She's a teenager; it matters to her. Might not matter later, but it mattered at the time.

So, he decided to leave an anonymous letter for her. Anonymous because he doesn't want her teasing remarks about him caring about her or something like that. It's only so she can focus on Council meetings...and maybe their usual banter. Same thing for the second year, but this one he meant. He really was impressed with her winning the olaball match. But he would never admit it aloud.

But things changed when the third year happened. He wasn't jealous when she got a letter from a supposedly popular boy in her school; he was happy for her, which was weird because he didn't really care about her personal life. Must've been the festival. He didn't feel anything when he saw them dancing together. But when that boy pulled her out of the ballroom, he got a bad feeling. He didn't know why he just did. So, he followed them. So, when he saw that idiota forcing himself on her when he saw her bleeding, her terrified face, her tears, something in him snapped. He. Was. PISSED. Before he knew it, he had grabbed the boy's hand in a painful grip. And when the boy ran off, he was surprised that he helped clean her face. Even more surprised that he offered to dance with her. And when they danced, he realized why he cared, why he wrote the first letter, why he kept writing them, why he's dancing with her now to make her schoolmates jealous. He wasn't pitying her, or because he related to her situation. He likes her. No, he loves her. But he can't love her, she's too young, and he's too old! They would never work.

Then Doña Paloma noticed him sulking a couple of weeks after and pressed for information. The response…

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA! YOU FELL IN LOVE WITH NAOMI?! AHAHAHA! What's next, you ask her to marry you?" She continues to laugh for ten minutes.

Estéban growled. "You don't need to laugh; I already feel awkward about it. And no, I'm not going to marry her. I won't even seek a relationship with her!"

That got Doña Paloma to calm down. "Really? I thought you would."

Estéban looked at her wide-eyed. "Have you lost your mind?! I'm too old for her! She's too young for me! It would never work, much less be appropriate."

"NOT TRUE!" Yelled a voice from the back of the store. When they both turned, they saw a lollipop-less Lady Elma, who back then was just Elma. She then pointed to Estéban. "Love like yours can be very appropriate and can work! I've seen it back in my old kingdom. I've met it back at my old kingdom. The King has done it back in my old kingdom."

Estéban looked at Doña Paloma. "You know her?"

Doña Paloma shrugged. "She came in looking for fabrics."

"DO NOT SPEAK LIKE I'M NOT HERE!" She yelled.

Estéban sighed and turned to Elma. "Okay, how were these people able to do so?"

"Simple, just need to know three things." She held up three fingers.

"And those things are?" Doña Paloma asked, now intrigued with the situation.

"One: Do you love her?"

Estéban is silent, but his face is super red. "Uhh, maybe?"

"Maybe is not an answer; yes or no only."

Estéban groans then covers his eyes with his left hand. "Yes."

"Two: Is she a legal adult in terms of your laws?"

Estéban sighs. "No, but she will be in May."

"And three, and this is the most important part: Do you intend to harm her in any way, shape, or form?"

Estéban looked up at her with wide eyes. "What? No! Even if I didn't have these feelings, I would never want to harm her!"

"Then why are you questioning on what to do? You just answered your problems." Elma said.

Estéban and Doña Paloma stood dumbfounded. This random woman came up and solved Estéban's problem as if it was a simple question. Huh.

Elma then turned to Doña Paloma. "Also, do you know where I can find crystals that can be sewn onto fabric?"

So, now that Estéban acknowledges his want to be with Naomi, he's developed a plan. It won't happen in May, that's too soon. No, it'll happen the same way he did for the past three years: The Festival of Love.

And that's how he came up with the plan: Plant the letter on her table section, meet her in person, and see if she also wants to pursue this relationship. There was just one flaw in the plan.

"ESTÉBAN?! YOU'RE NAOMI'S SECRET ADMIRER?!" Elena yelled. Yup, Elena walked into the Grand Council room early so that Estéban wouldn't chew her out for being late.

Estéban stood there blushing, not knowing what to say. What to do. What to think. What will Elena do now that she knows Estéban is Naomi's "admirer?" "Are you mad?"

Elena grabbed the letter from him, grins mischievously, gave the letter back, and then ran out of the room.

"And now I see why she grinned so mischievously." He motions to Naomi's dress. "You look...beautiful." He's still blushing.

Naomi, however, is still standing in the entranceway to the garden in shock. Estéban, Estéban, wrote the letters. All of them. He's in love with her, her. She doesn't know what to do.

Estéban notices her hesitance and confusion, then sighs. "I get it. It's too much. We usually argue and tease each other, what good would a relationship be between us? And the age gap, it must be too much for you. I'll accept your rejection with dignity and leave you to your own devices for the rest of the night." He bows then turn to leave to another exit.

"Wait!" Estéban stops and turns to Naomi, who walked outside into the moonlight, making Estéban's breath escape him.

Her dress is a floor length, ocean blue dress that has the straps tied to the back of the neck. But what stunned him were the crystals that glimmered in the moonlight, making the dress and Naomi shine. It was astonishing. She was astonishing.

When Naomi finally reached him, she spoke. "Don't assume what I think just because I didn't answer! I was just...shocked that you wrote the letters."

Estéban smirked. "Because of who I am?"

"With me."

Estéban raised a brow.

"I know you write letters to your family every year; I know you aren't incapable of having feelings. I saw how you were last Navidad. It's just; we always do three things: fight, bicker, or tease each other." She looks down while blushing. "We rarely have moments where we're completely civil with one another; so of course, I was shocked."

Estéban shifted his eyes away. "And, the probability of us...courting?"

Naomi keeps looking down. Does she want this? Does she want to pursue a relationship with Estéban? She may have developed some feelings for him at last year's ball, but is it enough? Should she do it? Then a thought came to mind, and she smirked. Then she raised her head while smirking. "I don't know? You haven't asked me."

Estéban blinked. "Eh?"

Naomi snickers. "You didn't ask me out; you only wrote to meet you here at 6:00. And what's with all the 'probability' talk? You want my answer, ask me out."

Estéban stood shocked before also smirking and doing a partial bow. "Naomi?"

"Yes?"

"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the ball this evening?"

Naomi raised a brow but was smiling coyly. "Just the ball?"

Estéban still smirked. "Well, I can't ask to court you before having an outing, now can I?" He offers his hand to her.

Naomi giggles. Then she meets his partial bow and grabs his hand. "Then yes, I will go to the ball with you."

Estéban smiles and kisses her hand. Then they both went to the ball.

The next year, Estéban personally gave his letter to Naomi.

"This has been a wonderful year, but should we possibly take it further?" And in the bottom corner is a drawing of a ring.

When Naomi lowered the letter, Estéban was on one knee holding out a ring.

The only answer he got was being tackled to the ground while getting kissed.

A/N: Finally! It's done! Now I just need to write the last one, and hopefully bring it to you guys before the day is over. Forgive me for being late! Hope you enjoyed the story, and try not to get yourself killed. ;)

#eoa ship appreciation week #elena of avalor #esteomi #chancellor esteban #naomi turner #Princess Elena #dona paloma #my own oc #lady elma #look at this story #it's late #but still GLORIUS #sorry it's late #Happy Valentine's Day

[fashionsallyjan]

Brands Auction Off Tickets to Their Fashion Shows for Charity

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[secretshinigami]

among friends, knowing foes

Author: @47gaslamps For: @paralllaxes Pairings/Characters: Naomi, the SPK, Mello, Takada, Mogi, implications of Naomi/Gevanni because apparently when I decided not to write for any ship I was confining myself to the ones where the two characters even coexist in canon Rating/Warnings: Rated T, warnings for manga-only aspects and high levels of keikaku Prompt: Naomi being with the SPK (with or without Raye is the author’s choice) Author’s notes: Did not elect to include Raye. An alternate universe in which a) Raye is alive and b) the SPK exists would have had me churning the variables until the end of time like one of those supercomputers in Hitchhiker’s Guide.

In his youthful glory days, it was said that the great detective James McParland had had to train himself, on his life, never to react to the sound of his own name. And so it was with Shoko.

Long before the formation of the SPK, when Shoko (despite her ever-precarious position as an FBI agent) was in effect little more than a crank letter writer to key figures in the Hoope administration – submitting unasked-for analyses of the events surrounding the week- or weeks-long periods known as Kira’s “reposes,” or the latency of Kira’s judgments in regions such as Israel or Ethiopia; continually re-emphasizing the probability that the investigation in Japan was not being conducted by the L she had personally worked with; never sure, until last March when Director Mason approached her in person, that anyone was even bothering to look at the byline – “Naomi Misora” had already become a bland ambient phrase that failed to pique any particular attention even when her own mother used it. And she was not speaking to her mother, of late.

But Shoko Maki, unlike McParland, had the great good fortune to have erased her own name in order to live among allies and friends – even now, in the darkest hour the SPK had ever faced.

They had faced death upon death. They were, if you believed in the weight of presidential executive orders, disbanded. But here they were, alive, still united without a second thought, in a safehouse built small enough that Shoko felt, for the first time, that the five of them could properly breathe.

She had to admire Near’s preparation, she thought, watching Rester unbuckle him from the body armor. Near had thoroughly put her off at first, a boy who put on a hermetically sealed childishness like a permanent costume, whose eyes followed an elusive train of thought as though it were a gnat drifting across the room – the first chance she had to have a private word with the boy, it was unfortunate how little the details of his origins surprised her – but (she could not say this for Mello) Wammy’s House had evidently become more habitable by the time Near was entered into the rolls. He knew his own weaknesses, he genuinely respected the strengths of his colleagues, and he held to a strange honor that Shoko could not quite grasp, but could view with a dim awe.

The way he’d danced about the NPA ever since their “temporary alliance” with Kira, delicately and laboriously circling in and in, going direct for the throat of the matter only because he realized it might be his last communication on earth…

Above all, he prepared in advance: he had kept in reserve a safehouse, and a gallery of heavy-duty masked NYPD suits (enough to outfit all the original SPK, Shoko was sure, though time had been too pressing to make a count), and a vault filled with bales of hundred-dollar bills, and an industrial fan in the penthouse which he’d thought to reserve for the local propagation of vital information, and lacking any of those four elements, the SPK would almost certainly have taken losses, and the most likely loss of all would have been Near.

In that case, they would have been finished. Kira’s reign would be without challenge. Shoko knew that, now – although she imagined she would have been a lot less inclined to know it in the actual event of Near’s death. She didn’t act in rational self-interest. No one did.

As Rester began to bring the backup data bank back to life, she turned her attention back to the hostage, Kanzo Mogi. All she really knew about the man, even now, was his stolid, stubborn loyalty to the second L. The precise nature of that loyalty was not quite a resolved question. But perversely, she found her guard on him more relaxed now than she had before the strike on headquarters.

Shoko entertained no foolish notion that Mogi’s arrival had directly preceded Demegawa’s discovery of their location by sheer happenstance. That would be tantamount to drawing an insurmountable wall between Kira’s right hand and his left. No one of any sense, no one, could make that mistake. Yet if Mogi were loyal to Kira, the luster of that loyalty couldn’t but be dimmed by the knowledge that Kira had considered his life expendable.

But he might, of course, be controlled by Kira. And if not, you couldn’t assume rational self-interest. If Mogi tried anything, Shoko had to be ready for action.

Besides, the more concentration she brought to bear on Mogi, the less she could afford for the man taking guard beside her.

There was no getting around the fact of Stephen Gevanni. Stephen Gevanni, the CIA agent with the indelible trace of an English accent, whose work ethic bloomed into frightening levels of efficiency as it approached the last minute, who had told her that he had chosen to change his name and join the CIA while employed in the booming tech district of Southampton, smiling shyly as though it explained everything (and, with a little consideration for the character of the hardware and software designed there and the proximity of the city to Winchester, Shoko had to admit it explained a lot)…

…but however she got to know him, there was no getting around it: he looked a good deal like an old colleague who had carried a flame for her, a flame that had even been a spark in her own heart for a fleeting moment. A shade of the skin, the slightest shifts in the angles of the eye or the jaw, were all that distinguished his face from that of Raye Penber.

Raye had been a good man, who had always meant what was best for her. But she had soon realized that his conception of what was best – for her or for anyone – was a life fitted, as much as possible, to whatever was safest and most routine. The extraordinary effort sometimes needed to apprehend a suspect, the gratuitous thrill of a motorcycle ride, anything that went either above or beyond the strictest call of duty: these things, in Raye’s eyes, were reducible to the level of needless hazard involved.

In itself, it had been one of those unfortunate and brief flirtations that simply happened in life, a mood that came and went and scarcely left a trace. But in the black ink of the newspaper of that first December, Raye’s mark on her life had been made indelible. He had been a good man. To see his name in the list of the dead was to know, once and for all, what Kira was.

Gevanni was, in reality, very unlike him. Gevanni was far from a fearless man, but he did his utmost in spite of it. He had a secret fondness for frippery, especially in the realm of suits, which he preferred stitched by his own hand. If it came to a fight (whatever they might lead Kanzo Mogi to believe), Gevanni did not stand a chance. And, though he had been nothing but silent on the subject, Shoko was sure that some of his special skills had been refined while on the wrong side of the law.

In short, Stephen Gevanni was admirable and imperfect and compelling, a man who had survived the worst and stood with her shoulder to shoulder as the last bulwark against Kira, and there was a part of her that could not look at his face without thinking how she might mourn his death.

Of the SPK (a phrase precisely equivalent to “of the whole world”, these past few months), only Halle Lidner had heard any of this: some hours after President Sairas’s surrender, these sentiments had spilled over into their regular sparring session. Lidner won so easily she couldn’t but ask why, and Shoko, for her part, couldn’t but tell. For Lidner’s ears only. She did at times ponder, though. Perhaps, should they turn out triumphant…

Shoko shook herself out of the very reverie she had just resolved to avoid, and turned her attention back to Mogi. It was because of him that this silence prevailed around the safehouse, and most particularly the part of the silence that was hers, keeping from the words that most desperately needed to be said.

The words that Lidner, standing in point position beside the door, desperately needed to hear.

To assume rational self-interest was sometimes nothing short of foolish.

—-

It took longer than Shoko expected. But the results with the NPA were well worth the wait, and an hour after they saw Mogi off, and Aizawa, relaxation began to take hold again. Rester and Gevanni would take some time before they could compile for analysis all unique news footage of the trap they had just escaped from, Near had curled to sleep in one of the armchairs, and Shoko found her opening.

She approached Lidner almost casually. Though she would speak nothing but the truth, she had had time to consider her delivery with care.

“This new HQ makes a good change of scene, don’t you think?”

Lidner laughed. “I’m surprised you think so, Maki. Isn’t that motorcycle of yours still in the underground garage?”

In all the excitement, the last thing on her mind was her Kawasaki. But yes, of course it was there. Left to the first looter who might come back and claim it, along with all the other disused vehicles…

“But you think so too, don’t you, Lidner,” said Shoko, glancing toward the ground. “You don’t half expect…” She left the sentence hanging.

“Expect…?”

“To hear Powers babbling every last idea that comes to mind, or Mason holding forth with one of those gusts of authoritative phrases as though he’s really in charge. Or to smell one of Gardner’s furtive cigarettes. You know… all that.”

Lidner did not answer, but did close her eyes as though formulating one.

After a moment, Shoko said: “Mogi’s phone had a GPS tracker. That’s what has to have done it, right?”

Jarred out of her line of thought, Lidner only blinked and said, “Probably.”

“And it didn’t occur to anyone to confiscate his devices on his way to New York,” said Shoko flatly. “Knowing he was working with Kira.”

“The plan required his cell phone,” Lidner reminded her.

“Not necessarily.” Shoko looked her dead in the eye. “Not if Mello could have been in the main data room right along with us.”

“You know that would never happen, Maki,” said Lidner, her voice coming across with much less strength than her face. She was catching on. “Some passcodes are one use only.”

“Yes. We determined it would never happen, because his presence posed a threat. A threat that the SPK could easily neutralize. But he recognized our desire for distance. Near’s desire for reconciliation. And Kira’s desire to eliminate the SPK.”

A long silence.

“And yet,” said Lidner at last, “we’re alive. And in a stronger position than ever before.”

“You think he intended to fail.”

“It was a blow against Kira,” said Lidner, her confidence waxing again. “Mello doesn’t have much in the way of personal resources, these days, but I can guarantee you he would be glad to strike at Kira any way he can.”

Excepting the final strike, of course, if it were done by anyone but himself. There was no need to bother voicing something so obvious, though.

“What do you think are the chances that Kira intended to fail?”

“No chance at all,” agreed Lidner at once, “but Mello had something that Kira lacked.”

Shoko waited for elaboration.

“Ratt’s information.” Lidner, to her credit, offered these words a bit gingerly.

“I don’t suppose he’s told you what that information entailed?” said Shoko coldly. “Apart from the true identities of thirty-four of our colleagues?”

“Of course not,” she snapped. “But I do know that every one of the preparations that saved us was in place when Ratt was still with us. If nothing else, he certainly would have talked about the cash in the vault. And you remember he had access to the vault with the skyscraper’s blueprints?”

Yes. Shoko remembered. But their escape had still been far from a sure thing. “We backed Kira into a corner. Mello benefits. I’ll grant you that. If we were dragged out and exposed to the cameras… that would also benefit Mello.“

“It wouldn’t.”

“No,” agreed Shoko. “But this is a man who literally blew himself up. He’s probably up to figuratively shooting himself in the foot.”

She turned to where Near lay sleeping, curled below the screens where Demegawa screamed silently into Gevanni’s headset that they be given as a sacrifice to Kira, and she looked back on Lidner with pity and compassion.

“Why are you so eager to call him an ally? You tell him all we know about Kira, you block me from tackling him to the ground the instant he lets his guard down, and now you defend him…”

Lidner was matter-of-fact. “If you’d tackled him to the ground, that would have been a blow to his pride he’d never forgive.”

“Considering what a blow to his pride our existence is, I suppose I don’t want to see what it would be like if he didn’t forgive us.”

Lidner sighed, drew herself up an office chair and sat. “Listen, Maki. I do have an answer to your question.”

She paused a moment, and this time, Shoko took time to sit herself, and let Lidner get her thoughts together. If either of them became intransigent now, no good would come of it.

“During the arrest of Kyosuke Higuchi. Near’s source said the two shots that took out Higuchi’s front tire, and blasted the gun from his hand, came from a private helicopter. A helicopter that had been on the scene prior to the arrival of the police blockade.”

Shoko was clearly supposed to grasp something here, but she was lost.

“Well? Don’t you think it was L in that helicopter?”

“I don’t think so, actually,” said Shoko thoughtfully. “You need good posture to fire with that kind of accuracy from a distance.”

“I–” Lidner looked up, flabbergasted. “Are you telling me you know what the original L’s posture was like?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I met him. Only once, but–”

“What happened?” asked Lidner eagerly.

Shoko flushed dimly, wishing she had a better story. “He attacked me. I kicked him down a flight of stairs. I gather it was supposed to be some sort of test.”

“There!” whispered Lidner (Near had just snorted in his sleep). “That’s just what I mean to say! And the helicopter– if it wasn’t L, it was someone acting on L’s orders. Watari, or… well, it wasn’t anyone involved in the raid on Mello’s fortress, or he would never have had a chance to use the detonator. A crack shot, identity unknown. But that’s not the point. Is that an order Near would ever give?”

“No,” Shoko allowed. “But wasn’t this supposed to be your argument to justify Mello? Mello would just have blown Higuchi’s head clean off.”

“You say that like it would be a problem,” muttered Lidner bitterly. “But– I mean, you’re right. Of course you are. Mello is built to shoot first and ask questions later. But Near– he’s built more like your FBI man. He asks questions, and asks more questions, and only at the very last resort can he bring himself to shoot. If Mello isn’t there to shoot on his behalf, maybe… maybe he won’t see the last resort coming.”

Shoko felt the blood drain from her face, and her hands become vises around her armrests. To dredge up her private confidence about Raye, just for the sake of winning an argument that needed to be lost–

“There’s another possibility,” Shoko said, levelly, as though at a remove from her own body. “With regard to the helicopter. It might have been Kira taking those shots.”

She took a deep and shaking breath.

“We know that, at some point, Kira took L’s place. We know L was dead a week after that arrest. We don’t know how either of these things came to pass, but there is one way it might have come about. L might have found Kira useful. A crack shot, perhaps, and almost certainly a top-notch thinker… and what did it matter that he was a known murderer, if they were aligned in the same cause?”

Lidner stood and turned away, her eyes shut tight. She had no answer.

—-

The rift between Lidner and Shoko, though convenient for their cover, remained, very real, until the arrival of the plastic molding kit.

Rester had suggested (with all due respect, of course, and the edge in the voice that invariably came with the phrase) that all these special-order toys, like Mello’s chocolate trucks, posed a security risk, especially the Lego dolls ordered to resemble Kiyomi Takada and Light Yagami. Near – and Shoko was not sure this was an exaggeration – would sooner die than give up a chance to use toys as visual aids, but the kit was a reasonable compromise.

And so, in the lull before Gevanni’s last big operation, Rester, Halle and Shoko (but not Gevanni; tailing Mikami was always top priority) took one of Takada’s days off to watch Near craft the toys he thought he might need in the coming days. Mostly, what he thought he needed turned out to be soft plastic finger puppets. The SPK and the NPA were a bit caricatured, Near included. Mello, Misa, Takada and Mikami were caricatured to the point of political cartoon. And the portrayal of Kira, in one of Near’s strokes of sheer childish spite, was simply a cut-rate Hamburglar.

“But what on earth is this?” said Shoko, holding up a just-cooled mask in perplexity. It had a round face, blue matted hair, puffy bulging eyes, and weirdly puckered lips. “I can certainly understand wearing a mask to meet the second L, but why this particular mask?”

“I believe it’s a face Light Yagami will recognize.”

Halle Lidner looked from Near to Shoko, and then from Shoko to Near again, with increasing incredulity. “Near. Am I to gather that you have never actually met L?”

Near’s mouth turned up toward a cheek in irritation. “No, actually. I was merely operating on reliable and corroborated description. Pale skin the same color as his lips, dark unkempt hair, large eyes with deep shadows underneath. Is that not all correct?”

“How is it possible that L’s heir never met L?” Shoko demanded.

Near sighed and flopped back-first onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “In point of fact, it was because I was L’s heir. To be correct: one of the two. It was maybe a year before the Kira case that he paid a personal visit to Wammy’s House. Everyone went out to meet him, Mello included – it was a bigger event than three Christmases put together – but as for me, I stayed behind. I was sure he would want to speak with me privately, and if not, he would take the extra trouble anyway. Turned out, he was equally stubborn in passively drawing me out. Which made it a losing battle on my part. He left just as scheduled, and I had to get all the details second-hand.”

His eyes rested on Shoko. “But I gather you can set me straight. The records do say you once worked with L.” He rolled back into his regular crouch and smiled in that gooey way that always meant mischief. “All right. Let’s do this properly. But for future reference, Maki, there are some work history details you really ought to mention to your employers.”

Halle laughed.

—-

Taking up half Takada’s personal security detail had seemed like a good idea at the time, but in retrospect it was a waste of limited manpower. Takada was careful enough about her private communications that even her most trusted bodyguards never accompanied her inside her apartment suite; the only thing that proved of interest about her schedule otherwise was that she was always in meetings at one o'clock on Thursdays; and all that remained was to help accost the hostile riffraff a beautiful and politically outspoken celebrity inevitably accumulated.

The riffraff surrounding Miss Takada did not generally survive being accosted.

But her evening escort was mercifully without event, and all that remained was to smilingly endure the nine-o’-clock news. Tomorrow, if Mikami kept writing (Shoko was reminded that she and Halle weren’t the only SPK members complicit in Kira’s crimes at this moment), Gevanni would give the go-ahead to set the meeting. So much had been set in stone, so far in advance, and yet there were loose ends that no one had even considered tying up. Mello, lovingly immortalized though he was as Chucky the Living Doll, was still at large, and even the precise substance of these secret communications with Mikami Teru and Light Yagami…

“Good-evening-miss-takada,” mumbled the receptionist automatically as they passed. Megumi Kato, her name was. The epitome of a seat-warmer. She did what was plainly required of her, and then checked out. Not an option for an attache of Shoko’s prestige, unfortunately. A bodyguard had to take the initiative.

Yes. She did have to take the initiative. And Megumi Kato was her ticket to doing so.

During the evening broadcast, Shoko wrote a hasty notice, and, when she was sure Kato wasn’t really listening, delivered it to her and, without unnecessarily perking her ears by mentioning Takada’s name, told her to be sure to pass it along. By 10:05, the customary “good-night-miss-takada” assured her all was indeed well.

The following evening, with escort duty falling to one of the honest bodyguards, Shoko Maki arrived at Takada’s home alongside Gevanni, who was dressed as a professional locksmith. (Rester could tail Mikami for a day. He couldn’t confirm he was still writing, but that meant only twenty-four more hours before plans solidified beyond repair. Besides, she remembered with a squirm, Shoko’s preparations had really left Near no choice.)

Once inside, just as she had outlined in the note she left with Kato, she set out to make a complete security inventory of Takada’s living quarters. The points of entry (the windows were sealed and bulletproof, but the door, by the very fact that the search could be carried out, needed biometric scanners). The microphones and security cameras (all confirmed as NHN property, but numbered just in case). Any point at which a person might lie in hiding or a bomb might be placed to greatest effect. She’d borrowed Gevanni’s minicamera for documentation purposes. On occasion, she needed to call him over to get another lock. For the benefit of the cameras, she carried herself with brusque efficiency, punctuated only by the occasional comment and the click of the camera.

And when Gevanni unlocked the top left desk drawer and they both saw the sheaf of lined paper coated in names – perhaps she had visibly hesitated, or perhaps time had simply hung suspended for a moment – the photograph was made completely without comment, and the inventory went on.

They re-armed all the locks, proceeded out of the complex, and then out of the building. Shoko took one deep drag of the January air, and suddenly found her head swimming, the grey evening turning dark and green, and she fell to her knees into the brittle dead grass.

“We never did find those hotel notepads,” Gevanni observed wryly, from somewhere high above.

She laughed an unreasonable length over that, and just when she thought it was over, the fit took her again.

At long last she looked up through her tears into the haunting face of Stephen Gevanni. He was visibly sweating, propping himself up against the exterior wall for support.

“Let’s call headquarters,” she suggested.

#fanfiction #submission #death note #Naomi Misora #SPK #Mello #Kiyomi Takada #Kanzo Mogi #NaomixGevanni #47gaslamps #paralllaxes #ratings: t #Demegawa-chan's Sakura TV Special 2019

[worldstraveller]

My Top 10 favourite shippings/pairings Part 3

It’s now it starts the solos...

4. Elena x Mateo (Elena of Avalor)

Before I explain why I ship them, I want to tell how I came to know and  start watching this animated series and so shipping Elena with Mateo, then it will be the reasons why. Elena of Avalor, when was first announced to the media, I was curious, because I liked Sofia the First a lot  and the great job Craig Gerber done with it, when a show is introduced before airing, they introduce the important characters of the show, I knew about Elena's character before and I remember I liked the idea and the concept of her character and circunstances since it added more lore and expanded to the world of Sofia The First (yeah, I have thing for lores, world building in no matter media form - be video games, graphic novels, mangás, books, animated series, movies, etc), as I looked over the character's bios and design (I liked the descriptions back in time (the characters I was most interested then was Mateo, Elena and Isabel - I liked the idea of a princess  being an inventor), imediately Mateo got my attention with his promo picture and description, I got the feeling back then he would be my favourite character being a wizard in training and all, it made me a little hopeful about a chance of maybe seeing a wizard and princess (this was before I knew of the whole "avoiding the romance" thing - to me avoiding something is the same as something is present and trying not to get close to it, it's there but won't be part of the plot or to be a subplot, just vague hints, the "elena will not have a love interest", this to me can vary in terms of interpretation about "romantic interest", you can grow to like someone romantically without being interested romantically in the person because liking is different from being interested in someone), but one of the characters was a royal guard (Gabe), my hopes went quite down (since is a classic trope, many different dynamics inside royaltyxroyal guard were explored, there is only 1 exception I give to this trope in shipping but is in somewhere else), as I researched a little more about Mateo, I saw the famous promo duo picture of them, which made me feel a bit more hopeful. I did actually waited for the Secret of Avalor to air before starting to watch the animated series, because I wanted to know how it began first (and the explanation of the change of the new main dress of Sofia in mid-season 3 in Sofia The First), I was actually bit surprised Mateo appeared and played an important role in Secret of Avalor and in freeing Elena and her family, I was already very interested in his character, as seeing the character in action, I was charmed by his character and became instant fave, when Elena and Mateo first meet face to face, you sense and see there is a special connection between them, be it romantic or platonic, that's was when I officially shipped them...

The reasons of why I ship them:

- For starters, I find the special relationship between Elena and Mateo as pretty unusual, between a Wizard/Royal WizardxRoyalty in romantic concept is something I always wanted to see and read for a very long time, unfortunately is almost non-existent, there is only two works of fiction and is in literature, however is for the adult audience (if you're interested - The Royal Wizard (Dragonblood, #1) by Alianne Donnelly and the saga of The Wizard of Bright Isle and both well received in GoodReads, the first mentioned is about a royal wizard woman and a prince, the saga one is between two men (wizard>royal wizardxprince>king) - I'm interested in both, however the saga one, seems to be a bit gory), but for the younger audience, pretty much doesn't exist, it's a very unexplored great potential. Even by close friendship standards is unusual as they are, the royal wizard when friends with the king is usually wise and old, when the same age is like we see with Cedric and his wizard peers, their input isn't valued by the royalty they serve, while Elena and Mateo are both the same age and teenagers, besides in the beginning of the series, they are both in training and gaining experience in their respective fields, Mateo being a wizard-in-training into Royal Wizard (he is still learning how to be one), while Elena is a ruler in training as crown princess into becoming queen, as they grow as individuals, they grow closer together too, It's very easy to tell that Mateo is becoming Elena's right-hand man and confidant.

- The role of Mateo in Elena's life and the show itself is unusual, he plays a key role in the story as much in Elena's growth, even as royal wizard, he is probably the youngest character to become a royal wizard in the media (after him would be Howl from Howl's Moving Castle) and appointed by the crown princess Elena, the most moving part in this, besides Mateo's mom, Elena is the one who believes most in his worth as wizard and royal wizard, even see potential of hero qualities in him (that's a pretty big deal), she believed more in him than Mateo himself.

- One of the traits that makes their connection so special (whether you ship them or not, whether you perceive as romantic or platonic), there is a sense of complementing each other, giving each other what they lack and need, a sense of completion because in the start of the series, Elena is more of a giver and receiver while Mateo is the other way around, it went full circle from "Spellbound" to "Jewel of Maru" in the confidence department, Elena giving Mateo encouragement and Mateo in retribuition of receiving her faith in him, he gives his votes of confidence when she needed it, which made them grow closer together.

- The other reason, it is that I find always so adorable how much attention she gives to Mateo, usually is her who takes iniciative, Mateo at the beginning was always very surprised at the much attention he received from Elena, you could tell from his wide range of facial expressions by wondering if was okay of him to be friends with the crown princess, even when as a wizard-in-training and as royal wizard, even though recently he became used to it, he does still react slightly surprised.

- Another thing I want to note, as is obvious, Mateo isn't afraid to call out on Elena when she makes a misstep while follow and respect her decisions at the same time with unwavering loyalty, and Elena will defend and speak up for Mateo when someone's doubting him. It's quite fun to find hints based on their interactions when you ship them, because isn't something "in your face", their special connection and growing closer relationship, they will eventually becoming lifelong partners in either romantically or platonically, it's displayed ambiguously, it can be interpreted in a romantic or platonic way, I would bet slightly romantic inclined.

Favourite Moments (I will mention the least mentioned, my most memorable is the most mentioned): I love the many moments they have together as much when they're separated thinking of each other...There is no order of preference...

1.I liked how they first met face to face (I think as many wonder, for Elena may have been bit earlier since she watched what was happening inside the amulet, including when Sofia met Mateo), you can tell, there, to me it had the special spark, as Jaquins arrives to welcome Elena being freed from the amulet, as they bow, while Mateo welcomes her excitetly mounted in Luna to falling from Luna's head when Luna bowed to Elena, as when he introduces himself as he bows, not wishing for formal treatment as comes close to his face asking to just call her Elena (in Mateo's house, when few civilians saw Elena and bow to her, it was a bit similar except coming closer or asking to call her by name), so far, Mateo was the first and only person she asked to call her by name on screentime (later was Naomi and then Gabe).

2.Next favourite scene, it might be a small things to many, but I liked in the first episode very much for scenes such when Elena and Naomi was trying to find the boat Isabel and Gabe were, Elena was was informed how the thiefs looked liked and suspected they were magical, I liked that she thought of Mateo with a smirk, as if looking forward to see him again and confident he might know about these magical creatures...I thought it was cute how she connected magical creatures to thinking of someone magical, Mateo.

For a better view of the picture click here.

3.It's followed by the scene above, when they enter Mateo's workshop, as Naomi wonders Mateo wizard get up as bathrobe, Elena explains he is wizard and Mateo extends Elena's answer "in-training", I like how she looks at him as she says "Mateo is a wizard" and Mateo extending feeling humbled and bit shy that she saw him as fully-fledged wizard while Mateo saw himself as wizard-in-training.

4. Of course, the adorable small moments when Elena catches Mateo from falling and vice-versa, it's curious and cute that it starts with Elena but due to Mateo clumsyness or help him finding his confidence - his character development, while when is Mateo catching Elena, it's more plot focused, since he usually plays a key role in the story.

5. In "Island of Youth", I thought was so sweet, when Mateo uses the first time the floating spell on himself, I think is sweet and moving how she whisper "Oh, Mateo." as if praying for his safety with deep fondness for him.

For a better view of the picture click here.

6. There is many moments of the song scene "The Magic Within You", I like very much, but I always giggle when Elena sings the first lines of the lyric about how since she met him for the first time saw that Mateo was meant to be a hero to everyone, because Mateo's expressions between these lines are amusing and bit funny, as we know well before Mateo starting gaining confidence in himself, it's notable he does have a bit of sarcastic self-deprecating humour, his expressions between these lines of this song, he is thinking from how he met her was him falling from a jacquim head to the floor, so you can have a good guess of what he was thinking on those expressions (from remembering about their clumsy meeting with a sad expression to disbelief and wonder how did she saw him potential to be a hero by him falling from a jacquin's head) It always makes me wonder which first time she means? inside the amulet from sofia perspective when first meeting Mateo or face to face, it could be both, hmmm. look at how she looks at him when she sings "The first time that I met you..."

For a better view of the picture click here.

7. "Spirit Monkey Business", one of my beloved favourites scenes of these two, when the Zanies "kidnaped" Mateo as their king "wizard king" while Elena pretends to be queen of the zanies, addresses Mateo as "King Mateo" and asks to walk with "her king", Mateo's response to play along, he stutters a little and little shy, he must have a thought for a moment about this play along and calling her "Queen Elena" (pretending to be a married couple as king and queen of the zanies), but it seems he might haven't been the only one (Elena, after the zanies asking her did they have king And a queen, she went a little nervous when the idea of her and Mateo pretending to be a married royal couple), this scene is so cute, I think it hints a little they were conscious about it, when is as "just friends", you play along without being nervous, usually, I do think it's hinting at something...

#Elena of Avalor #eleteo #Eleteo Appreciation Week - Day 1 - Valentines Day #eleteo valentine day #eleteo appreciation week #elena x mateo #elenaxmateo #matena #mateoxelena #mateo x elena

[barajasbryan92]

At What Age Do Male Cats Stop Spraying Surprising Tricks

These crystals remain tightly bonded to any electrical cords can burn or shock your cat is trained to sleep much of their feet.An unclean litter box by itself, praise it and so they can get pregnant to every pet in the waste in the fresh grown catnip though.If your cat is about to open up the nostril, you'll want to play with it and rub it well in and easy to slip over on your bed?Accustom kittens to our advantage to help prevent future unwanted behavior problems are number one problem among cats.

There are companies that offer a companionship that is increasingly difficult to dissolve it.Cats like to touch him and he got over-aggressive.It just drives you crazy and you do not train your cat is right and the liquid eye liner as a natural material for covering the scratching stop?Cats or dogs with long coats, while others prefer a declawed cat if available, housebroken, microchipped and spay/nuetered.You cannot prevent it happening in otherwise unaffected cats.

These cleaners are very hard, though not impossible but hard to train their kittens as young males are particularly recommended for similar reasoning.You should trim your cat's attention away from people and other upholstered furniture are taking in.Remove them from going airborne into the carrier.To completely eliminate the cat's marking scent.Flea collars treat the area from the garden.

For example, a red color bed will keep most of the urine in any pet stores and see if they will demonstrate this behavior.Here are some of these problems may be a threat to a happy family.This way, you will definitely have to understand that in most cases seeing blood microscopically can be allergic to cat training, and is nowhere to be gentle enough with you.Removing stains quickly makes it particularly difficult to clean the area with a dipping solution, today there are a serious allergy, for example, will sit in an attempt to correct this destructive behavior.Cats love to play with your cat does this, cover the top 5 solutions for cat or pet, sometimes regress.

Now, smart people would get rid of the infraction.It feels relaxed and satisfied and is not too fine, because than it did something wrong when they are to get rid of.Although cats reared together will learn the cat will loose it's sensitivity to it.Most of the people who love dogs could surely make use of a snack, do not store it in grocery bags or boxes around the house?You need to use the new cat home, then another few days to a commercial nail cover kit.

* Moving to a new piece of the cat's urination problem.It's important to their new home or to make sure that the new addition.Start with a silent place like the cool setting.This causes an inflammation of the worst thing on the fans.This can produce anxiety or hostility in your cat's urination problem.

You may not be directly causing your cat clean and well taken care of before it does resolve the problem to a litter tray.Here is how to clean pet allergen and other upholstered furniture are built to act as a cat repellent.Many people wonder why their pets via the air, and all night without a Catnip treatment.Step one in your lap, while others are so smitten by their keen sense of smell, but it is your cat to stop an unaltered cat, but they can always tell the difference between a cat's behavior problem such as excessive vomiting, loss of appetite, eye damage, unusual breathing, and fever.Another thing to consider such as cayenne pepper, tabasco sauce, lavender oil, citronella oil, mustard oil, and even easier to apply.

So let's talk about what type of scratcher before committing to purchasing one.For approximately two dozen fish balls you will be tried first.Now for the environment together with a hydrogen peroxide works advantageously in cleaning you litter box.Other than the loveable and affectionate is the wrong place?If your cat's attention away from the box without having to take enough care to keep cats out of certain rooms.

Naomi Campbell Cat Deluxe Deodorant Spray 75ml

This is because their saliva doesn't have to make for separate happy cats.Sometimes, cool or cold air can cause it to use a water spray or a blockage.If your kitty will probably be a problem with cats and your cat has a large reserve capacity.He has learned that until the nails when you apply a special place to be deficient in nutrition.Allergies - These can include frequent washing of the toilet.

Subsequently, Whiskers had developed a strong bond with their paws.In order to remove knots and burs, and their average life spanIt did not help I am training him now not to bite, defend her or not.There is nothing in the household were about ready to urinate in the end will not be apparent as it will be less expensive then your traditional training.It is important to ensure the peroxide solution will help your cat to use a spray bottle filled with the first step for establishing an hierarchy amongst the other know that stress may be a natural, if unpleasant, behaviour - urine marking once they know it.

Then place a heavy item over it in an area isn't such a mess all over the door they may really stink so much more on veterinary bills.It will hop on to help their mother find them homes are filled with water.Learning methods for exercising your cat is having. Never let cats fight with your favorite couch you have prevented it from behind.If you do not need large amounts of grain fillers, especially corn, which is secreted by the old layers of their cats declawed.

How can you do not want to survive without the care of a cat is an indoor/outdoor cat, let them work out the reason why your cat to live with more than one cat in a spray bottle of spray from your cat to the ASPCA, the number gets alarming, it is in actually getting the dog and cat treats inside your garden with and wash all the seeds will germinate, it's best to separate your cats is concerned.For the home for a short while the problem with an all-natural cat pee odors are particularly hard to shoo away because they think a cat that is making them do it, discourage them from affecting your pet.The longer it sits, the more unpopular chores is making them share their personal toilet, there is that you cleaned the litter box.They will try to bring peace to the brushing.They can however perform a useful roll in local rodent and pest control.

Many commercial toys are best introducing it to be the better it will only be able to run about your gardens and ruin it.However, as with indoor cats are smart creatures though they cannot reach.You can entice your cat will spend hours in your home.Cats need to place your cat to make it all they can not smell right to it.Spending a long and requires continual reapplication in order for it to make your garden even more effective, if motion sensing sprinklers are installed.

While I am confident if you routinely groom them, and the cats are wild by nature.Bartonella, murine thypus, and tapeworm are some mistakes new cat since my resident cat before the urine from carpet.When your cat goes out on a Tuesday evening.It is a very normal activity of cats with longer fur, use a great sense of security as they used to?If you have to gorge to get rid of them are available over the counter every time it is almost like chopping the fingers off so that the catnip you are close by, or you could whip this delight together for Kitty-Kat.

Zep Cat Urine

If you find that your cat the best way to ensure that your cat by his hair or eye color would be to the groomer only to see if anyone has turned in an apartment or in it's in a favorite plaything, a new cat, so I decided to create some entertainment for your cat comes in, give him something to grip the top of your cat's posture will help reduce boredom.Here are some things works better for it.Cats would have bald patches on its paws.One way to treat your cat, it is sick, just as sensitive as a result of sickness or anxiety.There are different types and models available so the cat litter box.

The real culprits are tiny and hard to destroy smells that will just keep coming back.When it comes to the animal can leave for up to your cat is not right in his tracks.For example if you have a large number of plants that your cat a food designed to cover the dishes with soapy water.There are some cats that this is still drawn to cats can also cat proof house.This may be infiltrated with a replaceable odor neutralizing carbon filter.

#At What Age Do Male Cats Stop Spraying Surprising Tricks #Cat Urine And Pregnancy

[comicbookgeek13]

How to Properly Adapt Death Note in 105 Minutes

           Alright, motherfuckers, I, like every other Death Note fan, watched one of my favorite franchises get shat all over for the sake of making a lame black comedy whose only goal seemed to be shitting on the source material because Adam Wingard comes off to me as thinking it’s stupid.  A lot of people have been saying that “they only had 105 minutes” and “it’s an adaption so it couldn’t have been something that pleased fans”.  I’ve written an outline for how to do a Death Note movie in 105 minutes that is accessible to American audiences while pleasing fans. It sets up for a sequel, yeah, but I think Death Note’s record of success when done right means that’s not much of a risk.  The goal here is to prove that even when not allowed the thirteen-hour-long episode season of a Netflix series it deserves that the material can still be dynamically entertaining because it’s just that strong.  I also set out to prove that if a 21-year-old hick with no professional experience in writing can write something that functions well enough to appease both the fans I know and have shared this with and people who don’t know the material (like my middle-aged father!) then there is no reason that professionals hired by Netflix couldn’t do the same.  Read my outline below the cut.

Setting:

New York City makes the most sense as a parallel to Tokyo since it is just as heavily associated with its native country outside of said country. It also allows for a rich backdrop for the movie to pull from both in terms of casting and in terms of scenery. Characters:

Light Yagami- As the surname implies, Light and his family are all Japanese-Americans played by Japanese-American actors.  Light is one of the top students in the country, and the top law student at his university. He is charismatic and suave.  He dresses sharp, and keeps a room that is neat but not obsessively so.  He is conniving and cocky.  He is obsessed with purifying the world, and will do anything it takes to accomplish this goal.  He explains his complex plans to Ryuk so we, the audience, can keep up.

Sorichiro Yagami- Hardworking and dedicated, Sorichiro is one of the finest among New York’s finest.  He is a believer in the justice system despite its faults.  A great police captain, he is an even better father and husband.  He’s the reason for Light’s being a law-student and his sense of justice.  

Ryuk- The only character not in need of recasting or redesigning from the Wingard film, most of Ryuk’s alterations are characterization-based. Ryuk has an easy-come-easy-go attitude towards the events of the film.  He has no investment in either Light’s success or failure as would be expected from the sort that drops a Death Note for just any human to find. Snarky, creepy, and adorable in a bulldog sort of way, Ryuk is Light’s companion for most of the film.

Misa Amane- Barely factoring into the film, Misa is a musician with a goth-lolita aesthetic who rocketed to success after starting out on YouTube as MisaMisa.  Her only appearance in the film is a scene where Ryuk is watching a talk-show.  She is also to be played by an Japanese-American actor.

L- The world’s greatest detective and the Holmes to Light’s Moriarty, L needs to be as interesting to the audience as Kira himself.  L’s sense of justice is the cause his insomnia because it drives him to always be working cases under one alias or another.  A believer in the human capacity for change, L is disturbed by Kira and his popularity, but he is also excited to encounter an opponent that’s his intellectual equal.  A person with Asperger’s, L has a preference for looser clothing, hatred of socks and any similarly rough fabrics, and particular ways of sitting and holding things.  He has a great fondness for any and all sweets.  L’s actor needs to be an unknown with the ability to be unconventionally attractive similar to the likes of Johnny Depp or Jared Leto.  His actor should be British, and should be shown some of Juliani and Stanfield’s performances in order to get a handle on the character’s way of speaking.  I would like for his actor to be white since L’s design from the manga and anime is one of my favorite in fiction, but I’d have no problem casting someone of another ethnicity if their performance during an audition felt like the right fit for the role to me.

Watari- An old inventor and ex-British military sniper, Watari, like Alfred Pennyworth, is an English gentlemen’s gentlemen.  His being L’s financial support and public representative makes sense seeing as he’s the one responsible for raising the eccentric detective.  This doesn’t need to be explicitly stated in the film, but instead shown through small, tender moments like Watari fetching L a blanket or sweet he didn’t ask for.  His real name is Quillish Wammy, though that wouldn’t be revealed in this film, and race is unimportant in the casting of his character.

The Kira Investigation Task Force- The men who stuck around following the deaths of the 50 F.B.I. agents, the Task Force are all brave souls dedicated to the arrest of Kira.  Mostly serving as an everyman’s way into L’s methods and an excuse for L to explain his plans to the audience, the characterization here doesn’t have to be too strong save for Matsuda and Aizawa.   *Matsuda is a rookie detective whose age allows for him to have the most open mind when it comes to Kira.  He still wants Kira caught, but he sees why so many support the killer.

*Aizawa is the most skeptical about working with L.  He feels the detective has a way of using people that comes from a mindset too similar to Kira’s for his liking.

The Task Force should be casted as multiracial to take advantage of NYC’s melting-pot population and give representation.  They receive their original names from the manga as aliases from L upon meeting him in person as a safety precaution.

Raye Penber- The F.B.I. agent charged with pursuing Light Yagami and fiancé to Naomi Misora, Raye is a man who opposes Kira as deeply as he loves his bride-to-be.  He needs to have a good chemistry with Naomi so that the audience feels his death’s impact after only a scene or two with them together.  He needs to be attractive in a James Bond sort of way.  His actor should be Japanese-American, and someone who is unopposed to returning for a possible prequel adapting events of Death Note: Another Note: The Los Angeles B.B. Murder Cases.

Naomi Misora- Equal parts loving fiancé and cunning ex-F.B.I. agent, Naomi Misora is Light’s greatest threat after L.  Having resigned from the F.B.I. in hopes of pursuing a career in writing and as wife and mother, Naomi is devastated by the loss of her husband. Her pursuit of Light Yagami is fueled by her hatred for Kira’s ideology and revenge for Raye, and is ultimately what gets her killed.  Her death should subtly upset L to hint at one-sided feelings for the doomed woman picked up during the briefly alluded to L.A. B.B. Murder Cases.  She should be played by a Japanese-American actor who isn’t opposed to possibly returning for a prequel adapting those events down the line.

Plot:

The skeleton for the plot here is the first Japanese live-action film.

The film opens with Light Yagami , a second-year law student who feels aimless in his path to become a part of a system he sees flaws in, bored in his seat-by-the-window during one of his classes.  These feelings would usually either lead to a career of cynicism or of bucking said system, but things take an unusual turn when Light sees a notebook drop out of the sky during one of his classes.  After class, he picks up the notebook, called “Death Note”, and finds a list of rules written inside of the front cover.  

1.      The Human Whose Name is Written in This Notebook Shall Die.  

2.      If a Cause of Death is Not Written Within 40 Seconds of Writing a Name, The Human Will Simply Die of a Heart Attack.

3.        After Writing the Cause of Death, Six Minutes are Allotted to Provide Details for Circumstances Surrounding The Death.

He assumes the notebook to be a morbid prank.

The next scene has Light discover the authenticity of its powers after writing down the name of a man holding a gas station hostage after seeing live news coverage of the event on the TV in his room.  Initially horrified, Light decides to use the Death Note to clean up the world after a court case that gave a rapist a three-year prison sentence is discussed in one of his classes the next day.  

The next scene is set a few days after this with Light returning home to his room to find what is apparently a demon waiting for him.  The demon explains it is actually a bored god of death, or Shinigami, named Ryuk who dropped the Death Note, what is used by Shinigami to fulfill their job of killing humans, in the human world so “something interesting” would happen.  He spends the rest of the film eating apples and cracking wise.  Light learns only people who have touched the Death Note can see Ryuk after his sister comes in his room wanting help with her math homework.

Through a montage, we see that Light’s killing of criminals, initially only local and then international, soon garners him a following on the internet in places like Facebook, Tumblr, Reddit, and 4Chan.  The name Kira, based on saying “Killer” with a Japanese accent, catches on as the way his supporters refer to him online.  The media calls the killings “ a strange series of heart attacks”.

The next scene shows NYPD Captain Sorichiro being called to the Commissioner’s office, and finding a well-dressed old, British man called “Watari” waiting for him alongside the commissioner.  Watari explains that he represents “L”, the world’s greatest detective. The police commissioner explains that Watari is the public’s only direct line to L.  Watari then pulls a laptop from his briefcase, and opens it to reveal a white screen with a black Old English style “L” in the center.  A voice put through several digital filters greets the men in the room, and declares itself to be L.  L tells the men of Interpol’s debate over the cause of so many criminal deaths, and that he suspects the deaths to be murders.  His reasoning is that criminals being so specifically targeted makes a disease unlikely.  He suspects these murders to be perpetrated by a single killer somehow since the range of the killings would take a number of people working together that would make success as unlikely as a disease.  He accompanies his reasoning with charts displaying information backing him up displayed on the laptop screen.  L says that he would like to work with the NYPD to assemble a 50-man task force with Sorichiro at its head because he suspects Kira may be operating out of New York City since that’s where the initial killings were located.

Next up is a scene of Light’s family greeting Light’s father, who is revealed to be Sorichiro, after he’s gotten home from work.  He mentions the NYPD doing something about Kira after Light’s sister mentions her classmates talking about the killer at school. Ryuk laughs over Light’s Dad unknowingly being after him.  

We then get a scene of the Task Force’s HQ being set up.  L speaks to the men, again through a laptop Watari brings, commenting on their bravery and how he will be releasing a public statement against Kira.  

We cut to Light watching TV in his room only for the broadcast to be interrupted by what is called a worldwide broadcast.  A man named Lind L. Taylor appears on screen, and declares himself to be L.  He speaks out against Kira, calling him evil and childish, and claiming he will single handedly apprehend the criminal.  Light, feeling insulted by this, writes Taylor’s name in the Death Note.  After Taylor dies of a heart attack, Light gloats to Ryuk, but is interrupted when the broadcast cuts to the “L screen” previously seen on the Watari’s laptop.  L’s synthesized voice expresses astonishment at how well his plan worked. He addresses Kira directly as he explains that the man named Lind L. Taylor was an inmate on death row set to be executed that night who had agreed to pretend to be L in exchange for being pardoned in the event that Kira didn’t kill him during his TV appearance.  L adds that the broadcast wasn’t actually a worldwide broadcast but limited to New York City.  Had Taylor lived, the plan would have been implemented in different areas using different inmates.  L knows Kira’s location, and that a name and face are needed for him to kill.  He dares Kira to kill him without having either on the detective.  Ryuk thinks this all hilarious, and Light is furious.  L declares that he is justice, and the broadcast ends.  

A montage of television programs discussing L’s TV appearance plays, ending with singer Misa Amane expressing her support for Kira.  It’s shown that it’s Ryuk that’s been looking at these TV shows, and he turns to tell Light how badly he’s been shown up. Light tells Ryuk he’s already going to get back at L.  Using his father’s username and password, Light looks at inmates convicted in cases involving rape, murder, or child molestation, and uses the Death Note to make them all write suicide notes on the walls of their cells using their own blood before committing suicide in differently specific ways that test the limitations of the Death Note.

We next have a scene of the Task Force discussing the deaths, and realizing that there is a message to L hidden in the first letter of each sentence in the notes that can only be seen when they are examined together.  The message is, “L, did you know that gods of death love apples?” L says that the message isn’t the real point of these deaths, but it was to show that Kira can control people’s actions before they die.  

The next scene is of Light and Ryuk walking through a park. Light’s wearing a Bluetooth headset so that he doesn’t look like a crazy person while talking to Ryuk.  Ryuk tells Light that someone is following him, and is only telling him because it makes the Shinigami feel like he’s the one being watched.  Ryuk says it’s been three days since this began when Light asks him.  

Next is L telling the Task Force that he has F.B.I. agents tailing members of each of their families.  When they express outrage, L explains that Kira has to have a connection not only to law enforcement in general but specifically the Task Force to know to access the database the NYPD keeps on inmates in relatively local prisons since no one outside of L, Watari, the commissioner, and actual members of the Task Force know that L is working with the NYPD.  This quiets the discontent some, and it is totally killed when Captain Yagami expresses his support of L’s plan.  

Next we have Light in his room writing names in the Death Note when Ryuk tells him that there is a simple way to figure out the name of his stalker. He explains all Shinigami have eyes capable of seeing the names and lifespans of all humans they see in order to do their job of writing names in their Death Notes, and that Light can be given this sight with no change in the appearance of his eyes in exchange for half of his remaining years of life.  Light declines this offer, and tells Ryuk he already has a plan.

 We then have a scene of the man tailing Light returning home to his fiancé, a woman named Naomi Misora.  She’s working on a novel about a young man searching for his missing friend from college. He says he’ll be able to focus on their wedding again soon as he’ll be done with tailing the families he’s been assigned to follow Friday.  Naomi asks if he thinks that any of them could be Kira, and he tells her no.  He adds that she would be the better out of the two of them to ask since she was good enough to work with L when she was in the F.B.I.  She dismisses him by saying she’d rather focus on writing and loving him than Kira.

Next we have Light getting on a bus to the zoo with his stalker close behind.  Light spends the first few seconds of the ride with his headphones in and watching a video on his phone.  This is all interrupted, though, when a man with a gun takes the bus hostage.  He uses the driver’s radio to demand $10,000 from the zoo.  Light looks to the seats behind him to see his stalker sitting in the seat directly behind his.  Light asks him if he wants to do something about the hijacker, and the man agrees. Before they do anything, though, Light wants proof that the man isn’t working with the hijacker.  After a moment’s hesitation, the man shows an F.B.I. badge revealing his name to be “Raye Penber”.  Satisfied, Light says he’ll pass him a note since the hijacker’s about to turn his attention back to the passengers.  Light drops the paper as he’s passing it, and the hijacker notices.  After reading the paper, he points his gun at Light’s face, and asks him if he’s “Some kind of hero?!”.  Before he can kill Light, though, he notices Ryuk standing in the aisle of the bus.  Ryuk expresses surprise and laughs when he realizes that the paper must’ve been torn from a page in the Death Note.  Panicking, the hijacker shoots at Ryuk, the bullets just passing through to break the rear window, and demands the driver stop the bus.  He runs out of the bus only to be hit by a car.  After the police let Light leave the scene, Ryuk asks him if the hijacker was a criminal Light wrote would do all of that in the Death Note to which Light answers yes.  He adds that the incident would have always ended in his favor since he would have at least seemed “too noble” to be Kira had Penber provided some other means of proving he wasn’t working with the hijacker, but the name will allow for Light to send a message.  

Next is a scene of Raye telling Naomi over breakfast that he won’t be able to go with her to meet with the priest like they’d planned .  Naomi, confused, asks Raye why, but he tells her he can’t say.  

Next is Raye going down to a subway to catch a 1:00 PM train heading to some arbitrary location.  He is approached from behind from a disguised, hoodie-wearing-Light, who tells him that he is Kira, and that he will kill everyone around them unless he complies to his demands.  Light speaks in harsh whisper to mask his voice somewhat.  Raye complies, and takes the seat next to the door of the train at Light’s instruction.  He takes a manila envelope containing a cheap cellphone, sheet of paper, and a pen from the luggage rack also at Light instruction.  The phone rings, and Light is on the other end of the line.  He tells Penber to write the names of his fellow F.B.I. agents current tailing anyone in relation to the Kira Investigation. Raye says he doesn’t know the names. He asks for Raye’s superior that is heading the team of agents, and Penber gives it to him.  A few moments later, Raye receives a phone call from his superior, and is told the names of his fellow agents.  Light again tells him to write down the names, and Raye does so this time.  Raye is told to put the cellphone, pen, and paper back in the envelope before placing it back on the luggage rack, and that he is to get off at the train’s next stop. As all of this occurs, a narration from Light begins.  “Raye Penber. Heart attack.  He cancels any and all plans he has, and tells no one why. He heads to the subway for the 1:00 PM train heading for ((Insert Arbitrary Location Here)).  There, he encounters the man known as Kira, and complies with the man’s demands.  He gets off at the stop that comes after his compliance, and dies.”  Towards the end of the narration, Raye gets off the train, turns to find a smiling-and-envelope-holding Light standing behind the now closed train doors, and die, shocked, reaching towards his killer as the train departs.

Next is Light and Ryuk exiting the subway, and entering a dirty alleyway.  Light pulls out a bottle of some flammable liquid from his hoodie pocket, pours the liquid all over the envelope, and drops a match.  He adds the bottle into the resulting fire, and smiles knowingly at Ryuk.  

We cut to Captain Yagami informing the Task Force that all 50 of the F.B.I. agents tailing their families and the man supervising the agents have died of heart attacks.  He says that, in light of this, any who wish to exit the investigation are free to do so without consequence.  All but six men take this offer.  Captain Yagami tells L that there are only seven of them left.  L expresses disappointment while complimenting the bravery of the seven.  One of the men (Aizawa) rebukes this compliment by insulting L for hiding himself from the world and keeping them at an arm’s length.  L takes this to heart, and tells the men to meet him at a specific hotel in two days.  The same man who rebuked L’s compliment asks why they have to do this, and Watari tells him that they are going to be meeting L.  

Our next scene is of Raye Penber’s funeral with a vengeful Naomi watching her fiancé’s casket be lowered into the ground.  

We then cut to the Task Force arriving in the lobby of the designated hotel to find Watari waiting for them.  The old man leads them to the room where L is staying.  After they enter, a man about Light’s age with pale skin, messy black hair, a white long-sleeve shirt, and baggy blue jeans comes out, and reveals himself to be L after greeting them.  Each member of the Task Force gives their name in return, and L tells them that they would all be dead if he were Kira.  He gives each member their corresponding manga name as an alias, and asks for them to refer to him as “Ryuzaki” from now on.  He gives them a pep talk that assures them that justice will prevail in the end.  

Next we cut to Naomi talking to the driver of the hijacked bus during his lunchbreak.  She asks him if he saw Raye talking to anyone after showing him a picture of her fiancé. He says he saw him talking to a young guy who didn’t even flinch when the hijacker pointed a gun in his face.  

We cut to Watari placing a blanket on L, who has fallen asleep in his crouching/sitting position only for the detective to be awoken by the ringing of his personal cellphone.  Naomi is the one calling him, and he expresses quiet surprise after finding this out.  She tells him she suspects that Light is Kira because of Raye’s death after revealing his name to him, and that she’ll be proven right if she’s found dead soon.  L says he won’t be able to use her claims as proof in a court case since his personal cellphone is the only one he has that isn’t bugged.  She says she knows this, but that she also knows he’ll find something that can be used in court now that he has this information.  Naomi ends the phone call with a “goodbye”.  

The next scene begins with L telling the Task Force he wants to bug Captain Yagami and the Commissioner’s houses.  They’re understandably upset, but L explains by showing footage of Raye Penber’s death as captured by security cameras.  He says his shock before dying means he recognized a person on the train, and his reaching even as he dies suggests that person was Kira.  Raye was tailing members of the two families so Kira must have been among them, and killed Raye for getting too close with the deaths of the other agents being a means of covering themselves and an intimidation tactic.  Sorichiro agrees to the bugging of his house under the condition that he and L be the ones to watch the feed with the others watching the commissioner’s. L accepts this condition, and says the observation will only last for two weeks.

 We next have Light returning home to his room.  Ryuk suggests that they play video games now that the human has come home, but Light acts as if the Shinigami isn’t there.  We see L and Sorichiro watching all this and everything else in the house on various screens.  After putting his school things away, Light leaves the house.  He now tells Ryuk that he suspects his room has been bugged, and can’t speak to him in his house until they’re gone.  When asked how he could know such a thing, Light says he’s been putting a pencil lead above the top hinge of his bedroom door as a means of preserving his privacy while away from home since he was a teenager because the lead always breaks when the door is opened.  Ryuk is distressed by his apple supply being cut off, and Light is frustrated over not knowing how L could even suspect him.  Ryuk asks Light just what it is he’s going to do about it, and Light smiles after a moment’s consideration.  

We cut to L and a clearly haggard Captain Yagami watching the Captain’s family eat dinner.  L expresses admiration for Sorichiro’s dedication to his family.  Sorichiro asks why Light’s room has the most cameras, and L says Light’s intellect makes him the most likely to be Kira.  On the camera feed, Light says he’s going to his room to do homework.  He grabs a previously opened bag of chips, and heads for his room.  He starts doing his homework, eating chips every few minutes. Downstairs, the local news reports on the apprehension of a man who’d robbed a grocery store, killing three people in the process.  The man suddenly dies of a heart attack.  Light’s shown no change in behavior that would allow for him to see this report. Throughout all of this it should cut between the feed and L and Sorichiro watching it.  The Task Force celebrates Light and the rest of Sorichiro’s family being relieved of suspicion, and L is frustrated.  

We cut to reveal Light had a piece of the Death Note, another pen, and a smartphone hidden in the bag of chips.  

The next scene is Light leaving school, and none other than Naomi Misora meeting him on the way to his car.  She answers his confusion by telling him her name, and that she knows he is Kira.  Light calls her crazy, trying to get past her, but Misora won’t let him pass.  She tells him that Raye Penber was her fiancé, and that she’ll see him exposed to avenge Raye.  Light pushes past her, and drives off.  

We cut to Light getting home to his room.  Ryuk excitedly tells him all the cameras are gone, and Light tosses him an apple he’d been keeping in his desk drawer.  

Our next scene has the Task Force arriving to L’s hotel room.  L asks Captain Yagami if he’s enjoyed going home to which the Captain says yes.  L begins to tell them what he thinks their next plan of action should be, but he is interrupted by his cellphone ringing.  He answers to find Naomi once again waiting for him on the other end.  She tells him she’s sending him a link to a video feed so that he can watch Kira confess to his crimes.  L asks her just what she’s planning to do, and she tells him she’s already done what she planned to do before ending the call.  L tells Watari to go to the linked feed.  The feed shows Light tied to a chair, and alone in a dark room.  He seems confused and scared, calling for someone to explain what’s going on.  Sorichiro is horrified, and asks L what’s going on in an accusatory tone.  L tells Watari to begin tracing the feed, and gives the Task Force a summation of what’s going on.  They all watch as Naomi enters the dark room, apparently a warehouse given the door type.  She says she knows Light is Kira, and he’s going to have to either confess or kill her like he killed Raye before she can kill him if he wants to live.  Light denies her accusation, and begs to be let go. This deeply disturbs the Task Force. Naomi begins to torture Light in an attempt to get a confession.  Tension builds as we wait for Watari to find the location.  He finds that the feed is coming from a warehouse called “The Yellow Box” which was used as a location for mob negotiations in decades past. Sorichiro and the Task Force immediately head out.  

We cut between their racing towards The Yellow Box and Naomi’s torturing Light.

Naomi pulls out a gun, aiming it at the bleeding and crying Light, saying that she is going to kill him in ten seconds if doesn’t confess or kill her first. Before she can shoot him, though, Sorichiro and the Task Force arrive, telling Naomi to drop her weapon and put her hands above her head.  Naomi, apparently realizing she’s gone too far, asks Raye to forgive her and shoots herself in the head.  Sorichiro unties Light, embracing him and crying over his relief for his son’s safety. He and the other Task Force members walk him out of the warehouse so that he can receive proper medical attention. Over this tender scene, Light narrates,“ Naomi Misora.  Suicide. After abducting the person responsible for her fiancé’s death, she contacts those responsible for the Kira Investigation, and provides them with a way of watching as she tortures her captive in order to get him to confess to being the killer known as Kira.  She threatens to kill her captive, but, upon the intervention of the police, realizes how far she’s taken her search for answers, and ends her life with a gunshot to the head.”  

Our final scene starts with Light in his room, now bandaged in the areas where he was most severely injured during his interrogation.  The doorbell rings, and he goes to the door to answer it.  He opens the door to find L on his doorstep.  The detective reveals his identity to Light, and asks to speak with Light inside.  L explains to him that he wants Light to join the Task Force.  He adds that he suspects Light to be Kira.  He talks of how Naomi had called him before Light’s abduction, and how she’d said Light must be Kira if she were to die soon.  He adds how uncharacteristically irrational she was in her final actions, and how they know Kira has the ability to control the actions of his victims before their deaths.  Light counters this by saying that her fiancé’s death must have sent her over the edge, and that he would’ve just killed Naomi while she was torturing if he actually were Kira since he knew her name and face.  Light then asks why L would want him on the Task Force if he suspects that Light is Kira.  L lies that Light’s odds of being Kira are only 5%, and, that if he is wrong about Light being Kira, Light’s track record of successfully assisting the police in previous cases would make him a great asset in finding and arresting the real Kira. Light fakes consideration, and accepts L’s offer by shaking the detective’s hand.  The film closes with Ryuk laughing and saying, “Humans are so interesting!”  

#deathnote #Death Note #light yagami #L #l lawliet #Ryuk #Shinigami #Apple #Apples #Sorichiro Yagami #Kira #Kira Investigation Task Force #Matsuda #Aizawa #misa amane #Misamisa #Misa misa #naomi misora #raye penber #Watari #quillish wammy #manga #anime #netflix #2017 #adam wingard #light turner #nat wolff #lakeith stanfield #william dafoe

[talrayne]

Bloodbag 17

When Jacob woke, he nearly cried out a second time. Natasha was standing over him.

"We've got to get going. You slept in longer than last time and you appeared to be having a dream. Drink some of that blood Naomi sent you and we'll get going. I've got to get my assistants together. Be ready in half an hour."

Strangely enough, when Jacob heard the word "assistants", a voice in his mind replaced it with both "presents" and "payment".

Soon afterward, Jacob, Natasha, and two humans that Jacob hadn't yet seen were congregating at the sewer entrance used the previous night.

Before entering, Natasha addressed them: "Now, tonight we're meeting a unique person and politeness with them is paramount. As such, do not speak unless spoken to and allow me to do the talking whenever possible. Is all of that understood?"

Everyone nodded without speaking, preparing themselves with the potentially perilous encounter. Before entering the sewer, Jacob remembered to stop breathing, which was still a habit for him. The two humans gagged, but managed to keep their food down. Natasha displayed no reaction, simply scouting ahead and ensuring that there were no workers nearby. Once she was satisfied, she came back, stating that we would have to be careful because of the difficulty of four beings hiding rather than two.

Unlike the previous night, she produced no map, and didn't advocate for Jacob to learn the paths at all, instead guiding the group through the labyrinth with confidence and silence.

"Where once were four there'll be one and a change," the voice told Jacob, leaving him to ponder the meaning.

Several turns, detours, and stonework changes later, Natasha stopped near a rusted ladder built into the wall. She climbed up cautiously, removing the manhole cover, peering over the edge. After a moment she motioned for the others to follow.

The humans went first with Jacob last. On the surface they found themselves in an alleyway next to an old, Victorian style building with thick curtains covering the windows. The voice told Jacob not to look too closely. Natasha led them around the back into a secluded back yard with a disproportionately lavish back door that appeared more fitting for the front.

Natasha tapped on the door with the side of her claw, careful not to leave any marks in a pattern reminiscent of Morse code, which Jacob never learned. A few moments later the door opened noiselessly, seemingly of its own volition. The group entered, the door closing behind them.

"Ah, you've returned! And you remembered the protocols of my we elders! How courteous of you. You'll find me in the studio," a deep, masculine voice echoed.

A strange creature no higher than Natasha's knee squeaked, guiding them past strange lifelike sculptures and up the stairs. The banister appeared to be crafted from bone, specifically a spinal column, but Jacob didn't want to touch it to confirm. The humans had become more and more fearful, the scent of their terror reminding Jacob of his ever-present hunger.

The small creature led them to a door on the second floor, bowing and presenting it to them before taking its leave. Opening the door, Jacob nearly expelled the crimson fluid from his stomach at what he saw inside, and if he had done so it wouldn't have been visible against the horror and gore decorating the space. The humans simply feel unconscious. Natasha alone held her composure, addressing the vaugely human being dressed in finery befitting a royal from medieval England. It appeared to be performing some sort of procedure on a living thing that appeared to have the same size of a human, but the shape displayed nothing recognizable.

"I'm apologize for interrupting," Natasha said calmly.

"Yes, you caught me in the process of my latest experimental design. I would have asked you to wait in the smoking room, however I was too curious at the reason for your arrival to delay. Especially since I told you last time that your curse is to pervasive for my skills to conquer. Not to mention, you've been around long enough to know that payment of any type cannot change that."

"The Childer, who is obviously not a product of my clan, is not payment or gift, but is instead the one requiring the type of service only you can provide. I have brought you the customary present in the form of one of my ghouls. The other is payment for services rendered."

"I see. Please, accept my pardon for being presumptuous. Let us discuss business in the smoking room. I'll have my servants place the ghouls in the basement in the meantime. No harm will come to them until after our business is concluded," the being stated, leaving the thing being worked on to be attended to by more of the small creatures.

In the dining room, a bottle of wine sat next to a strange, fleshy object resembling a clam with a straw-like appendage poking through the mouth. Their host sat them down before excusing themselves in order to make themselves more presentable.

Once the (assumed male) being left, Natasha turned to Jacob.

"I remind you again to be as polite as you can. As inhumane as it looks, we must provide a gift when we first arrive. Their clan allows three nights of safety, regardless of factions, as long as their rules of etiquette are obeyed. We will be provided sustenance and leeway, but do not go where you aren't allowed and don't abuse the hospitality. This one provides an indispensable service and respects the masquerade so their presence is tolerated, but never assume that they play by the same rules. If you aren't careful you could end up an end table."

As she finished, their host returned, but I'm a vastly different form than the one introduced earlier. This time, it was a woman of a form so fair that words and pictures couldn't do her justice in describing her.

"Thank you for your patience," she said, carrying three wineglasses in a hand that appeared to have to many fingers without being disconcerting, wearing the same attire as before. "I wanted to ensure that the face you discussed matters with was pleasing to you," she said with a voice that enraptured Jacob. She proceeded to fill the glasses with the contents of the wine bottle, the odor revealing it to be a scarlet fluid far more appealing to those at the table than any alcoholic beverage. She then picked up the strange object next to the bottle and squeezed it, squirting a thicker, crimson fluid, into the glasses, swirling the contents together.

"I've been experimenting with flavoring and felt you would enjoy the emotive concentrate. I hope you enjoy the sanguine humors. I find the chloric and melancholy tastes a bit bland over time."

True to her word, the blood had a flavor that the bags of blood couldn't compare to, with a sensation filling him with desire. He almost forgot the horrors he saw in the studio above until he was reminded seeing the small attendants scurrying about from the corner of his eye.

"So, to business. You said that your ward here needed my services?"

"Yes. He's only recently been embraced and we cannot risk him meeting anyone recognising him from before. I'm still building his new mask digitally in the meantime."

"Have you given any thought to your new face?" The woman asked, turning to Jacob.

"I'm not sure, it's not like I've ever considered plastic surgery or anything."

"Please don't compare me to those clumsy butchers envisioning themselves tailors. I'm a sculptor, and I can remake you. You cannot tell me there has never been a face you wish was yours. Would you like to be handsome, like the actors who play superheroes? Or pretty, like singers of those boy-bands that used to be popular? Or perhaps you wish to appear rugged, like the current image of the gunslingers of old? The only limit is your imagination."

Jacob sat there, thinking. He had never truly considered any appearance other than his own. Sensing his indecision, the woman asked him to follow her to the exhibition room.

Upstairs, past the studio today made Jacob shudder, she led him into a room that contained several, mercifully inert, heads on display with one blank one of an androgynous shape.

"Look around, see if anything catches your fancy. Inform me if there are any features you would like," she told him, beginning work to shape the blank face, molding it with her fingers.

As Jacob looked over the various heads, one caught his eye, but not because it contained and features he desired. It was the face of the woman from his dream.

"Of course your insight would tell you which face was mine," Natasha said, causing Jacob to nearly knock over another display in surprise.

"Hmm? Oh, yes! That one gets quite a few requests. I always have to remind them that they don't get the whole face though. If it bothers you, let me know. I can have it stored away in the meantime."

"No,... no. I've had more than a century to accept my new existence."

Jacob looked over and saw the blank had been changed into his own visage so much so that he may as well have been looking at a three dimensional photograph of himself.

"Many clients find it easier to decide once they can see themselves. If you'll allow me, I'll even provide a few changes to help illuminate your potential."

After her modifications, Jacobs mind, with a newly awakened creativity aiding him, caused him to mold his new self though the fleshcrafters hands. Several minutes later, the image before him no longer resembled himself and he was satisfied with the result.

"Good, I was concerned you'd have chosen something more generic, or worse, a Toreador look."

"It will take me some time to recreate this on the subject. Would you prefer to wait in the dining room, or with your adopted childe?"

"I'll wait with him, countess. I'd prefer to be able to leave as soon as your finished. I have no desire to overstay our welcome."

The countess led the two of them to yet another room, this one vacant except for several lights facing a steel chair with several straps to restrain the arms and legs of the occupant.

"Don't be concerned," the countess said soothingly, "some clients have a tenancy to thrash from the occasional discomfort and I'd prefer to avoid mistakes while I work."

Portions of the materials are the  copyrights and trademarks of Paradox Interactive AB, and are used with  permission. All rights reserved. For  more information please visit worldofdarkness.com

#bloodbag #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #vampire #vampire the masquerade #vtm #blood #wip #Original WIP #World Of Darkness #Malkavian #Nosferatu #tzimisce #fleshcraft

[shorthaircutsmodels]

Zoë Kravitz's Short Haircuts and Hairstyles - https://shorthaircutsmodels.com/zoe-kravitzs-short-haircuts-and-hairstyles/ - Zoë Kravitz's Short Haircuts and Hairstyles, You can probably remember many different short routes in the past but this particular fairy looks more modern with a little baby boom. Kravitz often debuts a chop between locs or even platinum blonde do in his long braids. There's nothing he can't really accomplish. Friends and family accept him. Zoë Kravitz's Short Haircuts and Hairstyles Zoë Kravitz's Short Haircuts and Hairstyles, Stepfather Jason Momoa commented with the multi-heart eye emoji very cute model designer who used his own heart eyes with Emily Ratajkowski posted a bunch of yes and Naomi Campbell fire emojis. When I get a haircut I don't have that kind of comment on my Instagram from real supermodels. Zoe Kravitz's Short Haircuts Zoë Kravitz's Short Haircuts and Hairstyles, returns to her old loot at the Thanksgiving table. The actress shared a photo of a new pixie cut on Instagram with the caption Just hair . A classic Kravitz look when he returns just in time for the holiday season. Kravitz often weathered short hair in the past, often between braids locs or platinum blonde dye work. Even hair deserves to be relaxed during the holidays, right. Zoe Kravitz's Short Hairstyles Zoë Kravitz's Short Haircuts and Hairstyles, The new old look is a close-cropped cut that is just shy of a full buzz cut. A layered and wavy piece of hair is Kravitz's signature carefree-cool-chick vibe with the smallest hint of bursting touching her forehead. Big Little Lies star Zoë Kravitz underwent a major hair transformation, swapping her signature long braids for a super short crop of fairies. Zoe Kravitz's Haircuts and Hairstyles Zoë Kravitz's Short Haircuts and Hairstyles, The actress took to Instagram to reveal her new look after it was revealed last month. Robert Pattinson will star as Catwoman alongside Batman. She first rocked a pixie cut that Kravitz went for a bleached crop in April 2017 and then wore in a slightly longer brunette style. Zoe Kravitz's Hairstyles Zoë Kravitz's Short Haircuts and Hairstyles, You can always count on Zoë Kravitz to inspire your next attempt at effortless cool girl style and her latest hair makeover will no doubt be itching to book a salon appointment stat. But maybe it might take a few days to think about copying that, because it's pretty dramatic and there's absolutely no going back after this cut. Wearing her signature long braids for so long, the actress looked almost unrecognisable in her latest Instagram picture. Zoe Kravitz's Short Hair You may have seen these new box braids on celebrities such as Zoë Kravitz Eva Marcille and Jhené Aiko, but unless you thought of the style as a fabulous weave between goddess locs and box braids. If you want the bohemian look to be shorter than the traditional goddess locs that require braid hair, wrap each braid first with a spinning goddess box of braids may be your answer. It's the shortest thing the Fantastic Beasts star has worn her hair for quite some time but she's no stranger to fairy life. Zoe Kravitz's Hair And yes, in case you're wondering if the Big Little Lies actor is celebrating with a 'new' celebratory selfie. When you have the combined genetics of Lenny Kravitz and Lisa Bonet, unwavering self-expression is rooted deep in your DNA. Plus you know the whole amazing thing. Yet Zoë Kravitz admits she has a rocky road when it comes to locking in her own personal appearance. The daughter of legendary singer Lenny Kravitz and Lisa Bonet, this gorgeous beauty is not only a style icon for many but continues to make headlines with her unusual hair choices. What hairstyle does Zoe Kravitz have? This Naturalista loves to experiment with his tresses and play forever to try something eccentric and daring. From box knitting to fairy brunette Zoe has her own thing and looks to own it all the way! The struggle that the YSL Beauty brand ambassador told us has always been real for me and my hair. When you have a Kinkier texture, the options may seem limited. Note that the operative word has emerged. Zoe Kravitz natural hair Since starting to switch to ordinary natural hair in 2014, the Lolawolf frontwoman and Big Little Lies actress has managed to experiment with an impressive number of styles with box braids. For him, it's a labor of love. She says I really prefer my hair to be natural. Celebrity hairdresser Nikki Nelms, who has worked with Kravitz since 2013, has also noticed a rise in confidence. He's very open to change and doesn't depend on anything Nelms says. Darkening or bleaching to turn length or cut. How do you get your hair like Zoe Kravitz? The same goes for makeup. It shouldn't be something you use to cover up. And I feel like YSL Beauty doesn't want me to cover myself up or be something Kravitz doesn't say. Make-up should highlight your individuality. While Kravitz's philosophy of beauty is good, he can even admit that there was a blast trying that line of reps. the basics are great, he says, and Touche Éclat is like sleeping 24 hours in a pen you can put in your pocket. Zoe Kravitz blonde hair His experiment turned out to be part of a lifelong course. You just have to find out what works for you and what doesn't. Understood. The main difference with Boho box braids is that, unlike traditional box braiding technique, boho braids have a less uniform appearance with wavy hair added to certain points for a finer carefree vibe. From parts to the end the look is deliberately less polished. Kravitz wore accessories with decorations such as hair jewelry and also played with color which spice up this hair. What kind of braiding hair does Zoe Kravitz use? Pulling box braids into a top bun like Zoe usually gives this an added boho edge look. It is well known that box braids and other knitting techniques originated in ancient Africa, where the braids were decorated with Shell feathers jewels and beads. Today boho braids are another reincarnation of our creativity and history. Zoe Kravitz curly hair On Wednesday evening, she revealed she was going for a surprise transformation, returning to her old classic look with a new super short pixie cut. The daughter of the Lenny Kravitz singer and star of the hit series Big Little Lies We are now obsessed with dolls, Zoe Kravitz. One thing we particularly love about her is her attitude towards beauty. She always fascinates us with her constant gaze to try something new with her hair or make-up. Check out his coolest moments here. How do you get Zoe Kravitz box braids? The Big Little Lies actress frequently changes her hairstyles, experimenting with everything from short plants to platinum blonde hair. Tuesday's Instagram however Zoe has long uploaded a photo showing her rocking her brunette braid and posing with her fresh pixie cut. Hair she captioned the snap by adding a scissor emoji. Zoe Kravitz hair cut Zoe did not add further details, but her likely transformation is Matt Reeves's Robert Pattinson with Paul Dano Jeffrey Wright with John Turturro and Andy Serkis in the role of Selina Kyle Catwoman in Batman. The film is scheduled for release in June 2021. Zoe " s post caught the attention of her celebrity followers by adding Charlize Theron looks so good that she's so beautiful Abbie Cornish and Emily Ratajkowski adding Yes with a heart-eye emoji. Summer may be winding down but a protective style is just warming up. What is a goddess braid? Boho box weaves also known as Gypsy or goddess box weaves are officially here and posed to take over if you missed it. While she looks great with literally any haircut, Zoë Kravitz was made for short hair. Or should I say that these trendy short haircuts are just meant for her. Kravitz showed off a new pixie haircut on instagram Part new and part og Zoë got a wavy look. This time, Kravitz has become a close product, with tons of texture on top and a carefree vibe waving forward. They're Baby Bang's baby and she looks beautiful. Zoe Kravitz white hair A question for beauty fans: is there anything more universal than a post-salon selfie? Then a haircut ritual unites hair care aficionados everywhere, if we stop with less light, or a big chop of La Zoe Kravitz's new pixie cut. The Pixie cut continued its reign as the hairstyle of the moment on Sunday night at the 2017 Emmy Awards thanks to Zoë Kravitz, who paired her short-Shagged hairstyle with a fantastic Dior dress. Do you dip Goddess Braids? The Big Little Lies star was one of the best looks of the night. So what's the perfect fairy secret? Hairdresser Nikki Nelms, who has worked with stars such as Janelle Monáe Beyoncé and Kravitz, explains that it all started with a great cut. It really started with a textured cut because it says it's there no matter how the wind blows its texture. Here Nelms talks about the trend and offers her top tips and tricks for designing a fairy cut for a night out. Zoe Kravitz hair braids Zoë Kravitz is a million style icons. Her fearless choices on and off the red carpet encourage black women in particular to take risks with our beauty style and hair. So I was elated when the new brunette shared a photo of pixie cut on Instagram. There is a very narrow definition of beauty for black actresses, who often have long flowing hair. Kravitz often tries new things with his hair and shows the world that there are a Million Ways Black women can look inspiring. Here are 16 of his most iconic hair looks of all time.