#like the only VAGUELY good one recently was tune knight and that was just a west side story parody lmao

[delusionaid]

Thoughts time: Alice's letter to Diluc (a ramble)

I was going to make a post about how much it hurts me to read this letter but now I also need to throw in how much it confuses me. Here goes nothing:

So, presumably Alice (Klee's mom) sent this letter to Diluc not long after Crepus died - which was on Diluc's 18th birthday. If you just go through the letter this doesn't fully make sense at every turn imo - you'll see why. However, we know what Diluc replied, so we know that it was sent back then.

"I've seen you in your tavern" - Your tavern? Considering Alice sent this post Crepus' death she must be referring to meetings that happened prior to that day. So do they mean to imply that Diluc was already working at/running the tavern at the age of 17? While also being the youngest Cavalry Captain the Knights had ever seen? Please calm down, Diluc. Admittedly it could also just mean "your family's tavern"..

This just hurts because it shows that Diluc used to be a much more cheerful and sociable person before his father's death. He was well-liked - although at this point I also like to remember the fact that the people in Mond describe Captain Kaeya as "easier to get along with than his predecessor" :)

I always imagined Diluc to have been a very lively child which was reined in a little when he grew older and took on all these responsibilities. Also Crepus may have been easier on him as a child than he was later on when Diluc was a teenager. That said I always imagined him to be stubborn and ambitious in achieving things he wanted - something that's still visible today even if it may not be as obvious as it was when he was the Knight's golden boy. Try telling Diluc not to do something he set his mind on, I triple dare you.

He's so kind 😭 This is an example where I find the timing of the letter odd. If this was prior to Crepus' death, why would Diluc be the one to deal with Klee and the mess she made? I guess one could argue that it was a minor matter and Diluc dealt with it because his father was busy, but..?

As I've learned recently, due to Klee being a long-lived species, she might be well over 20 years old, despite looking like a child. So that doesn't help placing the crystalfly incident time-wise at all.

Now this statement made more sense if it was sent NOW and not in the past. Because Diluc changed only after the incident and hasn't gone back to being the cheerful boy he was since returning to Mondstadt. Or is this just telling me that Diluc appeared very strict in certain ways? That would be in line with his current way of dealing with e.g. the Abyss Order and with the fact people found him "difficult to deal with" despite his good character. HM.

*gross sobbing*

*gross sobbing continues*

me, delusional: is this meant to super vaguely subtextily imply that Crepus did have dealings with the network in the past? me, crying: and yet Diluc chose to leave behind the knights AND his vision, the divine manifestation of what he believed to be his father's dreams and ambitions combined with his own?? **

**In his reply to Alice (see above), Diluc specifically mentions his father's will and wanting to follow it while leaving Mondstadt - which I find a little conflicting with how his story is presented in other places, specifically the vision bit. Am I reading this wrong? Is this a retcon issue or a mix of manga and game canon? Stay tuned.

Jk, don't stay tuned, I'll never get more info on this.

#( headcanon. ) #( m: diluc. ) #( diluc: headcanon. )

[amratsu]

alright these girls have haunted me for about a whole month now time to break it all down for anyone vaguely interested in them

hololive/vtuber 101 below the read more

THE FUCK IS HOLOLIVE?: An idol agency except all of its roughly 20 or so girls are youtube streamers who have their identity protected by a live2d avatar. They recently had a very fun live concert and all of them have or will have 3d models, but the majority of content is just them streaming whatever's their fancy at the time. (As of 2/17/2020 a lot of them play a lot of ARK, thank Coco for that) Therefore, they're part of the new form of niche culture called Vtuber.

THE FUCK IS A VTUBER?: Virtual youtubers. Like a normal streamer but, again, live2d portrait instead of their actual face. That's basically it. Content is about as varied as any other youtuber.

ALRIGHT, WHO WE GOT?: Hololive's split into OG Tokino Sora, the girls alongside her who are also primarily 3d, and then 'generations'. Just plug in their names and you'll find their channel easy. Again, variety differs between all the girls, but expect a lot of Nintendo games, chat streams, karaoke, and Minecraft across the board.

-Tokino Sora OG mom slash idol, debuted all the way back in 2017. Probably the only proper idol in all of Hololive. Warm, friendly, relaxing. She mostly does 3d variety streams and song debuts so she's hard to follow without advanced japanese.

-Roboco(-san) Pose happy killer robo with a notably smokey voice and calming demeanor. Plays a large amount of minecraft and first-person games in general; recent streams include ARK, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon remaster, Apex, and Fortnite.

-Sakura Miko ELIIIITE MLG miko idol with a tendency to swear a bit. High energy, fully embraced 'press f', gives herself sunglasses during streams, great friends with Pekora. Also notably into eroge. Did a full playthrough of Papers Please lately and is one of the most addicted to ARK (21 streams at around 4-5 hours each.)

1st Generation -Yozora Mel Sleepy vampire with the occasional killer instinct. Soothing, gentle, kind of lewd. Very much into nintendo games with Smash, Ring Fit, SwoSh, and Mario Kart being her latest content, but she's a little slower with the output. Part of the lewd blonde club with Aki, Haato, and Choco, who were demonetized until recently.

-Aki Rosenthal Cyber elf with detachable twin tails. Pretty similar to Mel in disposition, though less sleepy and more...I want to say 'fantastical'. Recently gained popularity due to her buck naked superhuman beefcake character in ARK, with Kerbal, Go Home, and some ASMR rounding out the rest of her content.

-Natsuiro Matsuri Eternal 17 year old cheerleader from the class next door, Matsuri is a high energy raging lesbian who's also a complete sweetie. Her infamous bandaid clip is what got a lot of western fans into Hololive. Plays a wide variety of games but also twitcasts at random times of the day like when she's in bed or in the bath, just to chat with her viewers about what's on her mind. Well loved.

-Akai Haato The ESL transfer student, girl next door, Haato is, well, exactly that. Commonly traveling for studies, Haato is a bubbly girl with a fine sense for aesthetics; you'll catch her making elaborate builds in Minecraft or playing visual novels during streams, along with a smattering of other games. Notable in that she's the only girl that'll do purely English streams, likely to help with her own education. Also kind of a baka.

2nd Generation -Minato Aqua Disaster masochist maid who's actually stupidly good at video games sometimes. She's both mischievous and hard working, massively popular in China, and, again, stupidly good at games. Soulsborne speedruns, PUBG, ARK (also one of the most addicted), Minecraft (seeing a pattern?), League if you catch her bilibili streams...but she's also the one who will spend a stream calling the other girls and asking them to bully her. Wild card gremlin.

-Murasaki Shion Genius mage who doesn't do a lot with her magic. Pretty well known for her 'neeeeeee', with a distinctly smug avatar/voice. Pretty good at games too, with a variety of Pokemon, retro games, Minecraft, Smash, horror, Mario Kart, etc. Excellent singing voice too, would recommend her covers.

-Yuzuki Choco The totally-not-a-succubus demon nurse at your highschool, Choco embodies :sweating:. Obviously she's lewd, but there's also a silly and petulant side to her that's fun to watch too. ASMR is her specialty. She's also, surprisingly, really into Dead By Daylight, so if that combination sounds fun to you hit her up.

-Oozora Subaru If Haato is the girl next door, Subaru's the bro next door. A very down to earth but energetic and sporty tomgirl, she recently spent three streams and sixteen hours on trying to take down Sans. Other recent things include Live A Live, The Witch's House, and GTA. Refreshingly easy to relate to compared to the other girls sometimes.

-Nakiri Ayame Hello, honored humans~ Hololive's millenium old oni. Has a peculiar way of speaking, especially in her pronouns, which lends a certain charm if you can got on board with it; happy go lucky, easy to like, and really cute on top of all that. Recently recovered from sickness (as of 2/26) so was the last to get on the Ark craze, she's actually very fond of multiplayer games as a way of 'getting to know mortals'. Apex Legends, Mario Kart, Splatoon, etc.

GAMERS: A sort of generation on its own, and also a kind of weird designation when all the girls game so frequently. Oh well!

-Shirakami Fubuki Fox. Not a cat. Super cheerful, makes a lot of weird noises that people turn into youtube poops (that she encourages), and also a helluva gamer. Plays plenty of battle royales, ARK, and of course Nintendo/Minecraft stuff. Infamous for her absolute feral hunter instincts in Project Winter, where she commonly massacres the entire map on her lonesome when she's the traitor.

-Ookami Mio Mom wolf who has to play tsukkomi (straightman) to basically all of Hololive sometimes. Which makes it all the more hilarious during her semi-common charisma breaks, like during Haato's recent English Exam stream. Has been into EDF, Pokemon, Ghost Trick, and Splatoon lately.

-Nekomata Okayu The sleepy smug cat with the most chill personality. Notably very, VERY close with Korone, and in general kind of a playboy in general. Never denies it or any of her myriad transgressions though. Her Mother 2 run has been fun recently, but really you could just tune into her frequent chat streams and relax that way.

-Inugami Korone Dog. An oddball who kind of just goes at her own pace, playing all sorts of weird games like Nyanpo (the pokemon prototype) and weird PS1 retro games. Shows a disturbingly violent side sometimes; her ongoing Blasphemous run and recent RE4 runs have shown how much she's into that kind of stuff. But also she's still a dog, so really don't worry.

Inonaka Music: -AZKi AZKi is closely associated with Hololive but is really more of her own thing, being even more idol than Sora is. Doesn't stream much if at all, has her own album out, does music collabs more than anything else, etc. Helluva singer though.

-Hoshimachi Suisei The vtuber idol who's totally not a psychopath, and totally a goddess at tetris. Like Fubuki, made a name for herself with her psychotic rampages in Project Winter, and also very much unfazed by horror games. Really fucking good at tetris too, doing 98v1 streams lately in Tetris 99, and a godly songstress too. Her karaoke streams are to die for.

3rd Generation: Also known as Hololive Fantasy. These girls are particularly close to each other. If you can find translated clips, I definitely recommend their host club streams where they compete in seducing other Vtubers. (Yes. That's serious)

-Usada Pekora AH^HA^HA^. You'd think she was a cute rabbit, but no! It's a Tewi level shitposter combined with some legit video game skills. She likes playing the heel deliberately just for shits and giggles, like when she nearly walked off with Miko's Nether Star. She's in fact very close to Miko, their relationship being both great friends and great rivals. Definitely one of the most addicted to ARK too; she's been making headway in conquering the ocean.

-Shiranui Flare Handsome half-elf archer, Flare's the designated tsukkomi of the third generation. She's definitely the most down to earth of them, charismatic to boot, and does as she pleases with a relaxed personality and husky, smokey voice. Very very VERY close to Noel. You'll find some really fun playthroughs of various action games like Dark Souls, Bayonetta, and Sekiro on her channel, and thanks to her picking up game mechanics fast they're fun to watch for anyone.

-Shirogane Noel Knight Captain of the Shirogane Knights, Noel's...kind of an airhead, actually. But she's definitely a pleasant, softspoken sort of person who's incredibly relaxing to listen to. Also a big eater, you'll hear her talk about beef bowls and muscles a lot. Just try not to stare too much at her 'pectorals.' As mentioned, VERY close to Flare (they just had a two day long date to a ryokan). Plays whatever with no focus in particular.

-Uruha Rushia The cute, soft, innocent apprentice necromancer, Rushia occasionally comes out of the gates roaring with rage filled screams before chilling out. An absolute cutie though, who loves her fans very much (though really every Hololive member does), her attempts to be cool and reliable lend to some great comedy. She's got a great singing voice if you can find one of her bilibili streams, and otherwise plays a wide variety of things.

-Houshou Marine A~hoy~. The completely safe for work, modern, not-cosplay eternal 17 pirate...and everything I just said was a lie. Most of it anyways. Marine's a riot of a lady with an incredibly dirty mind and dirtier motor mouth, great voice acting ability, and knack for art that she'll happily show off (among other things). Definitely one of my favorites, you'll find plenty of chat and art content on her channel, along with some of the most Ark addiction and a full array of Touhou game playthroughs.

4th Generation: Hololive's newest five girls, it's been a month and change since they debuted. They're notable for working together on some of the most wild content Hololive's put out so far, all helmed by a certain dragon. But we'll get to that.

-Tokoyami Towa The little devil that does whatever she wants, Towa's known for a couple of other things at this point: refreshingly honest personality, Pokemon playthroughs with an eclectic choice in team comp, and her charmingly atypical tomboy voice (though her mic's not amazing). Great singer, super funny if you can find the rare translated clip of her, and was an absolute menace at the recent Hololive werewolf/mafia game. How she managed to fake being a Seer from day one and nearly win, I'll never know.

-Tsunomaki Watame Hololive's bouncy sheep. Ram? Something like that. A very girly, friendly, lightly ara-ara personality, she's an honest and open with her feelings sort of girl. Earnest laughter at chat and games, real emotional tears while watching the live concert with her generation mates, Watame's a total sweetheart who streams a bit of music everyday as the pre-show to Coco's Morning Shitposts (official name). She's also gotten very close to her senpais in some regards...but above all she likes singing, chilling out in Minecraft, and recently playing through a couple Kirby games.

-Himemori Luna If you want to see a completely innocent cinnamon roll looking character say things like 'ass' and 'don't f*cking take crystal m*th', Luna's your gal. Her high pitched, almost childlike voice takes a bit of getting used to but she's a sweetheart that just has fun no matter what she's doing. But she'll also say a bunch of really funny shit while doing it just from sheer juxtaposition of her voice/appearance and the vocabulary. Surprisingly good at video games too.

-Amane Kanata PP Tenshi. Perfect Pitch, Powerpoint...Kanata's a bit of a sheltered honor student sort of girl who has an incredible vocal range, so much you'd be forgiven for thinking she was a professional voice actor or singer. She loves playing along with jokes even if she doesn't get them some times, and is really close with Coco. If not for said dragon she'd be the biggest memelord in the 4th generation, but alas; her channel has lots of collabs with fellow members and a series of cute 'research' videos on the various generations of Hololive. Unfortunately untranslated though.

-Kiryuu Coco The one, the only, the President of Nishinari herself, Coco has been a force of nature since she debuted. Her vulgar sense of humor, rapid fire jokester nature, fluent English speaking, and complete conversion of Hololive to the wonders of dinosaur taming in Ark has made her one of the most subscribed girls in a matter of weeks. Every day at 6am JST or 1pm PST, she does a quick 20 minute gig called Coco News (officially translated as Coco's Morning Shitpost) where she reports on the various ongoings in Hololive. This ingeniously brings attention to the silly crap everyone's been up to, really fostering a sense of community between the girls you don't see elsewhere, while also being a riot to watch as she roasts everyone for their silliness (with full permission). Other notable memes include her stalwart boycotting of Nintendo Switches, her desire to fund a Hololive house, and her recent Hitman 2 run.

#Hololive #Virtual Youtuber #Inonaka Music

[blueishfood]

A life of Longing/Loving (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Anne Shirley x Gilbert Blythe, shirbert

Words: 2,2 K

Warning(s): Mentions of unwanted sex and/or a disturbing past, prostitution, violence, upcoming angst probably, (NOT SMUT)

Summary: Anne Shirley has worked at brothels for as long as she can remember. She has almost given up all hope, when a knight in shining armor appears, from beautiful Avonlea no less, claiming that she is the woman he will marry.

OR: Anne Shirley learns to experience real love while being extremely annoyed at Gilbert Blythe for no reason whatsoever (except for her pride).

A/N: This is my new AWAE fanfic (and my first!).

Teaser

Gilbert woke early. The sun shone brightly, and he had forgotten to close the drapes. His eyes fluttered at the light, and he rose, quickly pulling on pants and a shirt. The young man walked over to the washpot, broke the ice on top and scrubbed his face in the cold water. With a shutter, he dried himself with the cloth on his right.

The floorboards were cold, Gilbert grabbed the thickest pair of socks he owned and pulled them up past his ankles. He muttered a prayer to thank God for wool. Outside his door, someone shuffled about the kitchen. Gilbert closed his eyes for a second before he opened the door. This was going to be a long day.

Sebastian greeted his brother in everything but blood with a wide grin and Gilbert was quick to answer with his own. However, his smile looked rather bleak today. Bash noticed, after a few years living with Gilbert, they read each other like open books. Bash decided not to comment.

The scrambled eggs arrived before Gilberts tiered eyes before he sat down. “Straight from the mothers themselves.” Bash chuckled. Three chicks had hatched just yesterday and both farmers were now waiting anxiously for the frozen ground to thaw. Gilbert offered only a quiet hum of appreciation.

“Delly is sleeping soundly,” Bash shook his head fondly and continued; “Of course she would choose to sleep now after keeping me awake all night.” Gilbert smiled at the though of Delly. The darling had only just turned three months and was making more of a ruckus now than when she was just out of the womb. Sebastian hummed a slow tune as he fished up the toasted bread and butter.

“Mary is still asleep too.” Bash stated, as Gilbert stood to pour the milk. “Poor soul wasn’t allowed to go to bed until four in the morning.”

“Oh,” Gilbert said, “I wondered where she had gone to.” He bit into his eggs and sipped the milk.

“I think I’ll have to run to Mr. Jones to borrow a hammer today.” Gilbert sighed deeply. “I was thinking of starting on that broken fence.” He looked at Bash who seated himself across from Gilbert at the table. “Do we need borrow anything else? He’s always happy to help.”

“A hammer?” Bash repeated, drinking a whole glass of milk before eating anything, as he always did. “You’ll have to go further than that to get a hammer, boy. Jones broke his just last week.” Gilbert frowned as he thought the matter over.

“Charlottetown?” He asked, and Bash nodded.

“Afraid so.” Gilbert sighed again.

“Fine.” He muttered, “Anything you need? I might as well do some shopping when I’m there.” Gilbert scooped up the last of his eggs and toast.

“No, I don’t think so.” Bash looked behind Gilbert, as if he would find the answer floating in the air. “But, brother,” Gilbert stopped in his tracks from leaving the table and sat back down. Bash only called him brother when he was immensely happy or very concerned. “I’ve been hearing you sighing about all day, what’s the matter?” Gilbert almost laughed. Not at the question, maybe more at the answer he thought of.

“It’s really nothing important, Bash.” He stacked a few plates in his arms and put them in the sink. Bash protested at his vague answer, and Gilbert ran a hand over his face. He sighed again, pulled at his sleeve and sat down.

“I- well I-” Gilbert tried to make a sentence that wouldn’t sound as weird as the one he had formed in his head.

“Go on.”

“I want a wife.”

“What.”

Bashes voice was monotone. His eyes were wide, and he had dropped the fork he was previously holding, making eggs splatter on his shirt. Gilbert would have laughed at the sight if only he had been joking.

“I just long to… make a family of my own- I, yes, well of course I have you guys,” Gilbert glanced guiltily at Bash who was looking positively offended. “But I want my own children, a legacy, I don’t know why but there’s a voice inside me I just…”

“Gilbert, you’re barely twenty!” Bash stood so the bench behind him toppled to the floor. “You have your whole life before you, you don’t need to settle down!” Gilbert smiled awkwardly to his best friend.

“Well I know I don’t need to.” He smiled wistfully. “I want to.” Bash pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “I have asked God, and-”

“You asked GOD?!” Bash shouted, once again rigid as a pole. “Gilbert!” He scolded, “Don’t you know when you ask, he delivers?” Bash paced back and forth on the floor, only barely avoiding stumbling on the fallen bench. “Mercy on us, in a week’s time we’ll have virgins of plenty breaking down your door…” Gilbert blushed down to the roots of his hair.

“Well that’s a bit-” Bash ignored him.

“Mary! Honey! I need help, Gilbert asked GOD-” Gilbert didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as Bash stormed down the hallway.

Silent as a mouse, Gilbert stepped in his shoes, shrugged on his jacket and put on his hat and escaped. The stable was quiet except for his horse who whinnied happily when Gilbert entered. He filled up the haystack outside her box and fastened her saddle. Silently he walked back inside through the backdoor and grabbed his wallet. He snickered as he heard Mary scolding Bash in annoyed whispers. Just as Gilbert led his mare out of the stable, he caught a glimpse of Sebastian, bursting out the front door. Gilbert jumped up on the horse and kicked her side lightly.

“Gilbert! Get back here!” Gilbert only waved and before long he was out of sight.

The trip to Charlottetown was a long one, and it felt longer since the last time he had travelled. Usually Bash or Mary did the shopping, they took mercy on poor Gilbert who had never been much of a socialiser. He didn’t mind people, he just minded the gossip more after his father died. All of Avonlea wondered what had become of the orphan boy who took to sea after the death of his family. Gilbert was sure some of Charlottetown knew about it as well.

Gilbert had never really announced his return. When he came back it was because of Bash. Together they worked the farm and helped Mary with Delly. Gilbert lived a generally good life. It wasn’t his fault that he sometimes felt lonely. He didn’t really need a wife, he knew that. Gilbert had always felt complete on his own, but he longed for companionship. In the evenings he would watch Mary lull Delly to sleep while Bash held them both, an adoring smile priding his features. Gilbert loved them. They were his family, how could he not? But when Gilbert went to his cold bed, he felt alone in ways he had never imagined he would.

Gilbert hadn’t been lying when he told Bash he had asked God. He had always known there was a special plan for his life. That, he believed, was the way of the world. He had never doubted he would feel fulfilled, and after receiving such a gift as Bash and his family, Gilbert hadn’t dared ask for more from his heavenly father. He hadn’t dared… until recently. He knew that it was asking of much, but his father had always said that a man’s highest duty was to his wife. Gilbert longed to know what that was like. So, he asked. It was a simple little prayer, and if He said no… Gilbert would back down. He would tell him his greatest thanks, nod his head and live… forever lonely.

Gilbert woke from his dream about hair of fire when the train stopped abruptly. “Last stop!” the conductor shouted, “Georgetown!” Gilbert shot up and out of his seat. The conductor looked at him and smiled,

“You quite alright sir?” He asked, picking up the hat Gilbert had dropped. Gilbert shook his head frantically.

“Did you mean to say Charlottetown, sir?” Gilbert asked, accepting his hat with a nod. The conductor laughed a bit.

“No, I’m afraid I meant Georgetown.” He gestured out the window and Gilbert could see a flurry of unknown buildings; they were smaller than the ones in Charlottetown. “If you’re looking to board the next train to Charlottetown, I’m afraid it leaves the station no earlier than four o’clock.” Gilbert sighed at the enlightenment, but thanked the conductor, nonetheless.

The train rolled off the tracks behind him and Gilbert was left standing on an empty platform.

He bought a hammer in the span of his first ten minutes in Georgetown. The next half hour, he tried to relax in a cold bar-chair. It was early in the morning so the only person occupying the bar other than himself was the bartender.

Gilbert sighed at his stupidity as he thought of the next five hours he would have to spend in this god-forsaken town. Georgetown was known on PEI for its dark neighbourhoods and frequent crime, but to Gilbert it seemed like any other sleepy town in the early morning.

“Is there anything interesting to do in this town?” He asked the bartender, who stopped in his tracks. The older gentleman turned around and slung the towel over his left shoulder.

“I don’t approve…” He looked searchingly into Gilberts eyes, “But if you’re looking for company, the Lonely Gentleman is right down the street.” He pointed out the direction. Gilbert drank the rest of his watered-out beer and stood.

“It’s a club?” He asked, pulling his cap down over his head. The bartender nodded slowly.

“Of sorts.” Gilbert nodded in thanks and left the bar to meet the chilly wind outside.

The drizzle in the air soaked Gilbert to the bone in minutes. He picked up the pace when he saw the light shining from the club the bartender had mentioned. It didn’t seem like a fancy club, but perhaps it still contained some interesting discussions he could participate in. He often saw elder men in Charlottetown engaged in political discussions in several small and private bars. He had never really thought of joining them, but now it seemed more desirable than the cold bar chair. Politics or, well, the arguing part of politics had always interested him anyways.

The moment he entered Gilbert felt like something was wrong. He made an awful decision and looked around. Never in his life had Gilbert felt more ashamed of himself. The room he was standing in was dark, the few lights cast a golden glow over the whole place. In plush red chairs sat men of all ages and races. Girls swarmed about the dimly lit room, tending to the men’s needs in the bare minimum of clothing. Sometimes in less.

Gilbert turned around as if he had gazed into the gates of hell. He pressed his forehead to the wall, and pulled his hair roughly.

“God give me strength.” He muttered.

Someone tapped his shoulder and Gilbert turned around slowly. She was scantily dressed; he could see bruises forming on her left shoulder.

“Do you need any assistance, sir?” her voice was calm and quaint. Gilbert shivered at the pleading he saw in her eyes. He made sure to keep his body from touching hers.

“Are you alright, miss?” he asked, keeping his eyes on her eyes or above. Her hair was long and light. She wore a pink ribbon that dipped out on the left side of her head. “Do you need to see a doctor about the –” Gilbert gestured to her shoulder. The girl covered it up quickly.

“No, I’m quite alright, sir.” The young girl glanced away. Gilbert recognized tears on the tips of her eyelashes and decided to push her further.

“Are you sure, because I have some connections I could-.” She placed a hand on his chest and smiled sweetly.

“I am fine, thank you sir.”

The air around him was dark with smoke. Gilbert caught a whiff of alcohol and decided he had seen quite enough for one day.

“Do you want a private room, sir?” The girl asked, she had not moved from her spot. Gilbert shook his head and carefully plucked her hands off his shoulders.

“No, but thank you, miss…?” The shy girl tugged at a pearl bracelet on her right arm. Gilbert forced his eyes to stay on her shoulder.

“Gillis, sir.” He nodded and quickly shook her hand.

“Goodbye then, miss Gillis.” Gilbert turned around and walked out the door.

The rain outside seemed to welcome him with cold arms. Gilbert almost cried with relief. What kind of wretched place would harm a soul such as miss Gillis? She seemed sweet. Kind. Considerate. Why would they…?

Gilbert didn’t finish his thought. The hair rose on the back of his neck as a bloodcurdling scream tore through the dark alley. A shiver ran down his spine. Gilbert spun around to look at the tall brick building he had just left and swore he heard a voice whisper;

“It’s her.”

#awae fandom #awae fanfic #anne with an e #shirbert #gilbert blythe #anne shirley x gilbert blythe #anne shirley cuthbert #awae au #au fanfiction

[walriding]

“It’s time to tip the odds back in our favor.”

uncharted starters || accepting

      He’d been away for… a while. Not terribly long – there had been lengthier stints of absence in the past – but long enough. Leaving Lynn had hurt, undeniably, but such was Miles’ way. He coped through distance, because it was easier to isolate himself than to let anyone else see him falling apart. At first he’d had half a mind to fall back on bad habits. The numbing power of any number of drugs was preferable to facing the knowledge he now carried.

      His son was alive, but finding him to be dead might have been preferable.

      It was that very knowledge that kept him in his right mind, somehow. He couldn’t give up, not knowing the position that the kid was in. They had to get to him, somehow. And so his wallowing turned to focus – there was a trail to follow, if only he could pick up at the start of it. First he’d have to figure out where Lynn’s adoptive parents had taken the boy. Then somehow he’d have to get his hands on First Order records, discern when they’d gotten their hands on him. And from there it was a matter of dealing with the present, trying to determine where the fabled Knights of Ren were going, not just where they’d already been.

      A tall task that he’d only just begun to scratch the surface of when Miles decided to take a pause. To return home – to Lynn. Synonymous concepts these days.

      But so much had happened while Miles was away, and of course none of it was good. He’d checked in with Lynn only to find her in rough shape. She, too, was dealing with the aftermath of Korriban, and now more recently the loss of one of her crew members. Miles had never been particularly close with Lynn’s rebel family, but he still knew them. News of Jax’s death felt particularly jarring in the wake of everything else, yet another unnecessary blow when things already felt so fragile.

      She needed his support and his presence now more than ever, and Miles was more than willing to provide whatever comfort he could offer her. Still, though, sometimes he needed a moment to keep his own sanity in check. She’d been resting in her apartment, and before she fell asleep he told her where he was planning to go. Not far, just to one of the parks on Coruscant’s upper levels. The manicured green spaces were the only real sign of life on the planet-sized city, and they were some of the only places that brought Miles a vague sense of calm among the never ending movement around him.

      They were imperfect recreations of nature, still. Miles leaned on a railing overlooking a vast urban vista, with trees at his back and over his head. It was a like a strange reversal of the place where he’d grown up – pockets of settlements surrounded on all sides by untamed jungle. For a moment he closed his eyes and inhaled, nose wrinkling at the acrid smell of city underpinning the faint whisper of the trees. In some ways he felt like Korriban had heightened his senses, made him even more aware of the thrum of life in everything – and it had forced him to work on tuning it out, filtering it down to what was really important. It took effort, a slightly creased brow, but for a moment he was able to narrow it to just himself, just his own thoughts and existence and heartbeat. The weapon concealed in his jacket pulsed faintly, too, with a kyber crystal’s latent energy. He hadn’t told Lynn about the fact that he’d worked on it during his brief travels. That he’d removed the crystal and felt it, felt down to the core of it, began untangling the filaments of its essence that seemed right and wrong. And he’d started to wonder how difficult it might be to do the same for–

      Awareness spiked as another presence registered beside him, and Miles opened his eyes. The brief flare of panic was mitigated slightly when he saw who it was. Just Ben. Just Ben, even though the unease creeping up Miles’ spine was hard to tamp down. 

      For a moment, just a moment before he opened his eyes, it felt like he was back in that tomb on Korriban.

      It was a typically abrupt start to one of their conversations, with Ben leading with an almost demanding proposition. Miles didn’t respond right away, just pushed back from the railing and turned around to lean his back against it so that he could at least look at the trees instead of the sprawling cityscape. 

      “You’re talking about Crimson Dawn,” Miles sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Not exactly high on my priority list at the moment.” That world had always been Lynn’s – gangs and battles and wars. He was involved by association, but striking back against the crime syndicate felt leagues beyond his realm of expertise. “And I think you should leave Lynn out of it for a little bit. I know she’s going to want revenge, but…”

      “I have to look out for her right now. Even if that means keeping you away from her.”

/ @tenebrescxnce

#tenebrescxnce #(ɪɴᴠᴇsᴛɪɢᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴀʟɪsᴍ) ;;; ᴀsᴋs #(ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ғᴀɪᴛʜ ɪɴ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ ᴛʜɪɴɢs) ;;; Vᴇʀsᴇ: Sᴛᴀʀ Wᴀʀs

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

chemistry (my heart’s a city you’re out to destroy) - [i/iii]

Kylo Ren - superhuman, mercenary, and the world’s most dangerous man – has recently resurfaced after a mysterious three-month disappearance.

Rey Niima, listicle writer by day and investigative reporter by night, is way too busy to worry about that. Seriously, she’s got a million things on her plate - she doesn’t have the time to think about anything else.

Especially now that news editor Benjamin Snoke has returned to the office and seems hell-bent on making her life… interesting.

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s the Superman/Lois Lane AU I never thought I’d write! (Okay, not really. But... vaguely. Loosely inspired, I’d say.)

Happy belated birthday, @nancylovesreylo! Earlier this month you came up with one of the best prompts I've ever seen, and while I'm still holding out hope that someone will come along and do it justice someday, here's my little attempt at it in the meantime. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 2 Also available on AO3. And hey, maybe check out my Twitter and Ko-fi?

Rey wakes up on the first Monday of February to find her phone blowing up with notifications.

The first tweet her eyes land on is a set of pictures with the very uninformative caption HE LIVES!!!, and she’s still blinking sleep out of her eyes when the first grainy photo finally loads and immediately captures her undivided attention as her heart gets lodged somewhere in her throat.

Kylo.

Hidden amongst the trees dotting the lake, loitering outside a darkened theater, perched precariously atop City Hall – all of the pictures are of Kylo Ren, MIA for three months now and even feared dead by some. Rey had thought herself unaffected by the rumors, secure in the knowledge that she would know somehow if something had happened to him, but tears spring to her eyes all the same as she stares at pixelated, zoomed-in images of him until her vision goes blur.

It’s a message, she knows, but it’s also one she can’t do anything about right now. So she shakes herself out of it and goes through the motions of her usual workday morning, setting her phone aside as she forces breakfast down her throat and pulls on a repeat outfit from last week. But as soon as she reaches the office, Rey can’t help the way her fingers automatically reach for her phone every five minutes to reassure herself that it’s real, he’s back, she isn’t just dreaming again–

She’s busy staring at him for the umpteenth time that morning when she walks right into a wall on her way to get coffee.

No, not a wall, Rey realizes as she looks up from her phone to find a solid expanse of chest and torso and black shirt. A little further up, and she finds a man looking at her as if he’s on a particularly bad trip and she’s a dancing, flying elephant.

Bewilderment is the best way Rey can think of to describe it, but all she’s done is accidentally run into him while on her phone; surely that doesn’t warrant the way he’s looking at her with wide eyes (she can’t help but notice how dark they are) and tense shoulders (broad, so very, very broad) and parted lips (thicker than she’s ever seen on a man, but still alluring somehow) that look like they’re trying to say something, anything–

Rey beats him to it. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve been paying better attention–”

The man blinks at her, and then promptly walks away.

She’s abruptly reminded of a piece of drunken wisdom Rose had taken it upon herself to share with the rest of the bar at last Friday’s happy hour, fresh off her latest failed Tinder date. The hot ones are always assholes, a tipsy Rose had sagely proclaimed to the bar, only to be met with supportive cheers and enthusiastic applause.

Maybe Rose and the rest of the bar knew what they were talking about after all.

“Fine,” Rey fumes to herself as she turns to watch the asshole’s retreating back cut a path across the office, eventually winding around the staircase leading to the newsroom upstairs. “Fine. Fuck you too, mystery man,” she mutters under her breath, and figures that is that. The news team barely ever mingles with the rest of them anyway, so with any luck Rey won’t ever have to see him and his perfect hair again.

Except after lunch that day Amilyn calls for a staff meeting on the second floor, and as Rey squeezes into the crowded conference room she catches sight of said perfect hair on the opposite end of the room, seated on Amilyn’s right. Thankfully he’s looking straight ahead, leaving her with only a view of that broad, broad back which Rey most definitely does not find distracting as she attempts to focus on their editor-in-chief’s… presentation? Speech? It’s the start of the week, so maybe Amilyn is just giving them all a little pep talk to get things off on the right foot.

In any case, Rey desperately hopes it’s nothing too important. And it probably isn’t, given that Amilyn starts wrapping things up fifteen short minutes later.

“And finally, I’d like to welcome Ben back to the office. It’s been a rough three months without you, and I’m sure the news team is glad to have its editor back. I know I am!” Amilyn beams as a polite round of applause fills the room, and Rey cranes her neck to catch a glimpse of the elusive Ben Snoke, who’d gone on leave to handle some sort of family emergency just days before she joined Raddus.

From the corner of her eye, she catches movement where there should absolutely not be movement. But maybe Mystery Man is just as curious as her, maybe it doesn’t mean anything that he’s slowly turning around in his seat and unfolding his gigantic treelike frame out of the tiny conference room chair–

Mystery Man stands and acknowledges the room with a nod and a tight smile. “Thanks, everyone. It’s good to be back,” he says even as those dark eyes land on her, and the smile falls off his plush lips. “I look forward to working with all of you again.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

The rest of the day goes decidedly downhill from there because there’s no coming back from the realization that your potential future boss hates you for some reason, but at least no one stops Rey when she’s the first to leave the second the clock strikes six.

It doesn’t actually make a difference – she knows he won’t be there until eleven at the earliest – but at least it leaves her with plenty of time to navigate through hellish rush hour traffic and still have dinner and change before she leaves for the Amidala Museum.

Their museum.

Rey can’t remember exactly when it became their spot, only that one day she spotted Kylo hanging around the museum on her way home and they ended up talking about their mutual love of the place for more than an hour. It had been one of the very first real conversations they’d shared, and just thinking about it still brings a smile to her face nearly two years later.

She’s chasing after a wisp of a memory about his favorite exhibit when a familiar, faint rasp announces his presence. It’s that damn voice modulator as always, giving him away before he can get the chance to sneak up on her.

A thrill races down Rey’s spine as she prepares to turn around.

Three months. It’s been three months since she last saw Kylo, last made him laugh, last stood a little too close–

She can feel him standing right behind her now, and a tiny shudder works its way through her body as Rey processes their proximity. Forget news editor Ben Snoke and his plush, kissable lips and his unfairly attractive voice – nothing will ever come close to the way Kylo sets her blood on fire.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Rey turns and nearly staggers backwards as she comes face-to-face with all six-foot-three of her masked man, and she folds her arms across her chest to keep her hands to herself as she tips her head back to look at him. “It’s been three months, Kylo. Of course I showed up.”

It’s impossible to tell with that mask of his, but Rey thinks she detects a hint of a smile when he speaks. “I’m glad you did, sweetheart. I…” he hesitates, and a gloved hand reaches out to pull her out of the tiny patch of moonlight and into the shadows of the grand, ornate pillars that hold up the museum. “I wasn’t sure if you would, after all this time, but I had to see you. Had to know how you’re doing.”

Not for the first time, Rey wishes she could at least hear his real voice. The growl of the modulator is so at odds with the sincerity of his words, a harsh reminder of reality when all she wants is to escape into a softer, kinder dream world.

But that’s never been in the cards for them, no matter how many pretty words Kylo whispers into his modulator, so Rey huffs out a bitter laugh and shakes her head at him instead as she pulls her hand out of his grasp. “Me? You’re the one who disappeared for three months! Kylo, I thought– I didn’t know what to think, but people were saying that… that…”

That he’d finally gotten what he deserved. That the world would be a better place without him. That they should all be glad to be rid of him and his knights.

Rey has tuned out op-eds and news shows for the last three months, choosing instead to dwell in the corners of the internet where everyone seemed equally concerned even though they’d never met Kylo at all, even though there was no way they felt the way she did, does–

“You could’ve let me known you’re alive,” she murmurs, dropping her eyes to the ground. “You could’ve done at least that.”

The modulator crackles, distorting his sharp intake of breath.

“I’m sorry. Things have been… difficult,” Kylo says with a sigh, yet another unpleasant burst of sound rushing past his mask. “Difficult and different, and I wasn’t really thinking, I couldn’t think at all–”

His hand rises to his head, and then falls back down. Rey’s noticed he does that sometimes, especially when he’s agitated or stressed or embarrassed, and all it does is make her want to take that stupid mask off and run her hands through his hair the way he’s itching to do.

It’d be flat from the helmet, she imagines, and so soft in her hands–

But that’s something for a kinder world. In this world Rey sets the urge aside to focus on his words instead, like a crow catching sight of something shiny for it to chase after and fixate on.

“What happened? Where have you been? Where are the rest of the Knights? Why haven’t you–”

Kylo laughs and shakes his head at her, the way he always does whenever she gets all ‘reporter-y’ – his word, not hers – on him. “Nice try, sweetheart.”

Rey shrugs, unrepentant as ever. He can’t expect her to stop doing her job just because of their unlikely friendship, just as she’s never expected him to stop doing his – even when it involves more bloodshed than she’s comfortable with.

“I’ve lost more sleep in the past three months than I have in the past three years, Kylo,” she tells him sharply, unashamedly. “I think I deserve an explanation–”

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” he interrupts, and even in its distorted form Rey can tell his voice is just a little too innocent. “It’s getting late, Rey. You should go home and get some sleep.”

She crosses her arms and scowls at him. “Are you serious?”

“Always,” Kylo intones with a nod of his helmet. “Now go home, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you get there safely.”

It’s not fair that he always makes her that promise no matter how their conversation ends, and it’s definitely not fair that she immediately softens at his familiar parting words, first spoken so long ago–

I should get going, she’d told him then, just a young reporter reluctant to step away from a living, breathing mystery that might prove to be her big break if only she could crack him. It’s a long walk home, and I’m alone.

And instantly, without a moment’s hesitation, the words had spilled past his lips: you’re not alone. I’ll make sure you get home safely, I promise.

Rey might not know much about Kylo Ren – might not know anything about him, actually – but on this, at least, she knows she can always trust him.

“Fine,” she gives in with a huff, pointing a warning finger at him. “But this conversation isn’t over yet.”

“It never is,” Kylo agrees, and the cheery note in his voice pulls a reluctant smile out of her. “Good night, Rey.”

“Good night, Kylo,” she whispers in return, and in the blink of an eye he’s disappeared – up into the sky or on the roof or maybe even to a different dimension; you never know with Kylo Ren.

Rey shakes her head at the thought and sets out into the night, knowing she has nothing to fear.

A week after her unfortunate first meeting with Ben Snoke, Amilyn calls Rey in for a meeting.

Thankfully it’s after hours, which allows her to wait until the news team has left for the day before she climbs the spiral staircase up to the second floor of the converted warehouse. Amilyn’s office is all the way at the end, and Rey can’t help but sneak a glimpse at Ben’s office as she walks past.

His door is closed, but the office is entirely dark. Empty, just like she’d hoped it would be.

Bolstered by that reassurance, Rey picks up the pace and quickly finds herself seated opposite her editor-in-chief, documents and pictures fanned out across the desk between them. She’s been discreetly looking into a chain of strip clubs for months now, trying to prove that it’s all just a front for the Guavian Death Gang, but her investigation has slowed down in recent months.

In her defense, it’s unexpectedly hard to focus on strip clubs when you’re constantly worrying about a certain mercenary and his possible death. Amilyn had been very understanding about the whole thing, even if Rey had never actually said anything about it to her, and had encouraged her to focus on fleshing out her cover as a mere listicle writer first.

But now that Kylo is alive and well and she’s written at least a dozen posts about the top ten hidden gems in Coruscant City, Rey is itching to get back to work.

“So you’re going back on stakeout duty?” Amilyn asks, worry lines forming between her brows as she picks up a picture of the club’s back door.

Rey nods. “It’s been a while, so I figured I should see if anything’s changed and familiarize myself with things before I try to go in. I’m thinking of starting next Monday–”

The door opens without warning, and both women immediately spring into action, sweeping all of the papers strewn across Amilyn’s desk into a haphazard pile.

“Amilyn, we need to talk–” Ben declares just as their boss drops a write-up about a recent ‘influencers’ summit’ – whatever the hell that is – on top of the pile, effectively hiding Rey’s work from view.

Ben comes to a screeching halt, and there it is again: that wide-eyed look of sheer horror over having to share a space with her. “Oh. I didn’t realize you’re still here.”

Rey quickly gets to her feet and sweeps the pile into her arms, summit write-up and all. “I was just about to leave,” she announces coolly without sparing him a look. “Amilyn, I’ll have that article about diving spots done by tomorrow night, if that’s okay?”

She doesn’t know anything about diving, but during times like these Rey tends to just go with the first thing to come to her panicked mind. So diving it is.

Amilyn nods as she plasters on her signature warm smile. “That’s more than okay, Rey. It’s just what we’re looking for, and I’m sure you’ll be able to execute it flawlessly–”

Fine, so maybe Amilyn’s laying it on a little too thick, but that absolutely does not justify the little snort that escapes Ben.

Rey turns to him with a scowl. “What?” she demands, clutching her papers close to her chest as she pins Ben with a glare, desperately fighting against her body to not react to the amused little twitch of his lips.

“Nothing,” he claims a little too quickly, barely meeting her eye for two seconds before he moves forward and settles into her abandoned seat. “Now if you’re done here, I really do need to speak to our editor. In private.”

“Fine,” Rey mutters before she bids Amilyn a good night and pointedly does not do the same for Ben. Screw him; he deserves the worst of nights for having the audacity to be so attractive yet so awful. Rey very nearly slams the door behind her, but manages to rein in the urge at the very last second. She does, however, stomp her way back to her desk, and maybe she bangs around her table for a bit before she finally slams her drawer shut, documents safely locked away, and allows some of the tension to drain away.

What even was that snort? What an asshole; he probably thinks he’s better than everyone here just because he writes about ‘real’ news–

With a frustrated growl, Rey kicks the thought out of her mind and focuses on work instead.

It’s only twenty minutes past six, so traffic is definitely still hell. Rey figures she might as well stick around and throw together that diving article; it’s half of what Amilyn is paying her for, after all.

The next time Rey looks up from her computer screen, an hour has passed and someone is clearing their throat behind her. She turns back for a curious look and immediately suppresses a groan.

Because of fucking course it’s Ben Snoke, looking down at her with furrowed brows.

“Why are you wasting your time on this shit?”

If Rey were standing, she would have taken several steps backward out of sheer shock. “Excuse me?”  she demands, voice colored by indignation and anger.

Ben, miraculously, does not back down. In fact, it’s almost as if he hasn’t noticed her reaction at all, because he pushes on and steers the conversation into an entirely unexpected direction. “You’re an amazing investigative reporter – or so I’ve heard,” he quickly adds before Rey can even begin to process the idea that Ben Snoke might know her work. “Any serious news team in the city would be lucky to have you. So why are you here posting about the same ten Instagram trends day in and day out?”

He seems… genuinely puzzled, Rey notes with no small amount of surprise. And maybe in any other case that would’ve softened her, and maybe under any other circumstances this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to ask if his team could use another reporter, but right here, right now… Ben was already dangerously close to the truth when he pushed his way into Amilyn’s office unannounced. She can’t let him get any closer.

“It’s a brave new world, Ben,” she huffs at him, going for a sneer and failing miserably as soon as she catches sight of a flash of hurt in his eyes. “Try to keep up. Escapism gets hits. Sensationalism gets hits. The same ten Instagram trends over and over again gets hits. But good old boring investigative work? There’s a reason newsrooms are growing smaller and smaller all around the country.”

And before Ben can defend his craft, their craft–

“Besides, that’s none of your business,” Rey states with a note of finality as she turns her back on him, returning her attention to her screen.

She waits for the hairs on the back of her neck to go down, for the odd prickle of awareness she feels around him to fade away.

But Ben lingers, and finally he lets out a heavy sigh. “You’re right,” he mumbles, and out of the corner of her eye Rey spots him placing a brown bag on her desk. “Here. Since you’re working late.”

She turns her head just the slightest bit, and then a little more to stare at him when she catches sight of the logo printed on the bag.

Pastries. He’s brought her pastries from the bakery around the corner.

“Um… thanks?” Rey reaches out and notes that the bag is still warm. “When did you–”

Ben sticks his hands into his pockets and fixes his eyes straight ahead, on her crowded notice board. “Breakroom,” he lies.

Rey can’t exactly call him out on it – what is she supposed to do, accuse him of taking the trouble of getting fresh food for her? – but she’s too puzzled to let it slide. “Wow,” she pretends to play along, “you guys just happen to keep fresh pastries on hand?”

To his credit, Ben remains nonchalant. “This floor might have healthy, balanced meal-prep lunches,” he shrugs, “but we have all the good stuff.” A pause, and then, a little quieter: “You should come up and check it out sometime.”

She’s been to the upstairs breakroom at least four times, and can confirm that they do not have ‘all the good stuff’. In fact, on most days the news people can be found hanging around the downstairs breakroom, hoping to swipe something from the lifestyle team’s latest video shoot or cooking experiment.

“Maybe I will,” Rey says, keeping her tone even.

Ben withdraws his hands from his pockets as he nods. “Okay. Great. Yeah.”

A painfully awkward silence settles over them then, but just as Rey’s about to reach for the bag and ask if he’d like to share something – it’s only polite to offer, since he’s the one who went and got them – Ben steps back and promptly turns on his heel. “I’ll just… I’ll just get out of your hair now.”

Rey reaches for him without thought. “Ben, wait!” she requests as her fingers wrap around his wrist.

When he turns he’s got that same look from that first morning again, this time focused firmly upon her hand on his. Rey’s cheeks heat up as she quickly lets go of him, and if her heart falls a little at his reaction it’s nobody’s business but her own.

“What…” Ben falters, clears his throat, and finally tears his eyes away from his hand to look at her for all of five seconds. “What is it?”

“I just…” Rey takes a deep breath, and offers him a smile. “Thanks,” she says, leaving it at that.

Slowly, hesitantly, Ben smiles in return. It’s a small thing, a barely-there curve of his lips, but his eyes are warm and bright as they hold hers, the first time she’s ever seen them that way, and oh fuck, Rey’s going to think about this a lot now, isn’t she?

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, still smiling. “Don’t… don’t stay too late, Rey. Good night.”

This time, she lets him leave.

“Good night, Ben,” Rey whispers to his retreating back, wondering what the hell just happened.

But hey, at least now she’s roughly 80% sure Ben Snoke doesn’t actually hate her for no damn reason.

So this was originally meant to be done by last week, but then life got in the way as it always does. And it was originally meant to be a one-shot, but then it got out of hand as my stories always do. This one especially strayed further and further away from the plan with every word I wrote, but I hope it's still somewhat decent.

Hoping to update again this weekend and then sometime mid-next week for a third and final time, but we'll see how that goes. You know what they say about life and the best-laid plans...

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you liked it. Please don't hesitate to like/reblog/comment; I'd love to know what you guys think about this so far!

And once again: happy birthday, Nancy! <3

#reylo #rey x ben solo #kylo ren/rey #rey/kylo ren #rey/ben solo #star wars #rey #ben solo #kylo ren #my fics #fic: chemistry

[captainshyguy]

i said this about steven universe the other day but it also applies to the simpsons like....you can tell it’s gone downhill bc WHEN was the last time there was an iconic song lmao

#like the only VAGUELY good one recently was tune knight and that was just a west side story parody lmao #like the original ones were excellent #we put the spring in springfiekd?? kids vs adults?? the stoncutter song? monorail? yvan eht nioj/drop da domb? #and SO MANY MORE #emma rambles #the simpsons

[metalgearkong]

Hollow Knight - Review (Switch)

10/18/19

Developed by Team Cherry, released February 2017

I am shamefully late to this party. Hollow Knight was shown to me by a friend a couple years ago when I was visiting Oregon, the place I grew up, from California, the place I now live. I liked the art style and atmosphere, but I didn’t play it long enough to fall in love with it. Only recently did I download Hollow Knight from the Nintendo eShop because it was so cheap, and I had heard so many good things about it. This began a deep appreciation and passion that grew on me quickly. After finally finishing the core game (not including DLCs) and getting at least one of the three endings, I can safely say that Hollow Knight has become one of my favorite games of all time.

We play as a little bug-like creature, who has come to explore the Hallownest, an expansive underground abandoned bug kingdom with ancient secrets and treasures to discover. The story is intentionally vague for most of the game, and even by the end, you likely won’t fully grasp the story and lore elements without some help or further research. It’s not that the clues aren’t there, it’s just a giant puzzle to analyze, something I enjoy doing. The lack of constant story revelations didn’t bother me, because Hollow Knight has an ongoing sense of mystery and wonder. As you delve deeper and deeper into the dark, dangerous, and macabre locations within Hallownest, you’re never really sure what’s going on, but the game is so well designed, you’re constantly inspired to press on and discover what’s around the next corner.

Hollow Knight can be succinctly described as a Metroidvania with a bit of Soulslike mixed in. This game is a combination of some of the most successful trends of gaming, rolled into a masterfully executed new package. The Hallownest consists of several interconnecting locations that have a distinct theme, and serve some sort of function of the ancient kingdom. Each of these areas have their own music, enemies, color scheme, and environmental hazards. The in-game map is extremely helpful, showing you where you are, shaping each area, and giving you the ability to place markers on the map with different colors so you can invent your own legend and remember where certain things are. 

Many times and obstacle will be found in the corners of each of these biomes, letting you know that once you’ve discovered more abilities, that these are places you’ll want to revisit. I had a blast pulling out lined notebook paper and drawing each of these areas as I went along. The game won’t show you the true size of each location until you find Cornifer, a friendly cartographer bug who is also exploring the Hallownest. Buying his map interprets an entire area for you. I had fun comparing my sketches and drawings to the actual map shape and size in-game. I also enjoyed scribbling notes about things when I needed new abilities, or just an interesting location that might have story relevance at some point. The game certainly doesn’t hold your hand and has enough confidence in players not to talk down them.

Team Cherry has some seriously brilliant game design elements built into the combat system. For example, when you slash with the nail and hit an enemy, it pushes you and the enemy back ever so slightly. The combat has a weight to it, and when you get hurt, the audio fades out briefly like you’ve just stood next to a gunshot or explosion. It really feels punishing to get hit, even if you’re not near dying, and makes you want to pay attention and do better. Aspects like this, and other gameplay nuances, make you have to think twice when performing simple actions. 

If the player dies, you are returned to the nearest bench you sat on (a save point). As you play the game, you collect Geo from fallen enemies. Geo is the currency of this game, and can be used to buy Cornifer’s maps, open fast-travel stations, and purchase Charms (upgrades) at stores. If you die, you wake up on the last bench yoh sat on. Then, you have to go back to the place you died in order to collect your Geo. If you die before retrieving your Geo, that Geo disappears forever. This is a very Soulslike element, and leads to a lot of suspense as you try your best not to perish again before regaining your lost currency. My advice is to buy things when you can, because saving up Geo has no purpose other than risking losing it all if you die twice. I’ve lost thousands of Geo making this very mistake. Luckily, the place you died is shown on the map, and a certain musical tune will alert you that you are approaching the right spot.

Another Soulslike aspect of the game are the difficult boss battles. This is actually one of the only elements of the game I didn’t fully enjoy. Some bosses aren’t too hard, but most of them are very challenging, and require a dozen attempts to defeat. Some people really get off on this, but not so much me. The frustration of being killed by a boss a bunch of times doesn’t equal the payoff of finally defeating it. Some bosses are optional which is convenient, but most of them also contain an item that greatly helps you in the game, or gives you an ability which is required to access major areas. I know that everyone says “difficult but fair” for these sorts of things, but some bosses only start feeling like a fair fight once you’ve died in battle with them a handful of times to learn their moves -- then it begins feeling like a fair fight. I dreaded each time I came upon a new boss because I knew I’d be stuck for the next while trying to defeat it, instead of exploring, which is what I enjoy the most.

The music of Hollow Knight plays a big part in its atmosphere. Each area has its own distinct music, but more than that, the music is a terrific addition for defining the tone of each area or scenario. It mostly seems to consist of string and piano, with other instruments sometimes mixed in. Overall the game has a very somber tone, much of it attributed to the music. However, some areas feel more whimsical or lighthearted. Places like Fog Canyon or Greenpath have a less threatening vibe because, story-wise, they are in a much less threatening location. Plenty of enemies and challenges are still found in these areas, but the game does a brilliant job using music to establish mood and even help with bit of storytelling.

Hollow Knight is a fantastic, elegant, beautiful game. The fact that this is Team Cherry’s very first official commercial release is beyond impressive and inspiring. This is truly a triple-A title disguised as an indie game. How is it that this 2D Metroidvania is just as addictive and feels just as expansive as Skyrim? Even feeling like I was being extremely thorough (but not referring to guides) I only completed 71% of the game after 32 hours of playing. To truly get the best endings, and uncover the entire backstory and lore elements, I could see myself spending at least 10 more hours uncovering this game’s secrets. I look forward to returning to this game, not only for the DLC that has already released, but to try again at discovering all of the locations, abilities, and story the game offers for dedicated fans. Hollow Knight is one of the best games ever made, and I can’t wait to see what Team Cherry does next.

9.5/10

#hollow knight #team cherry #indie game #metroidvania #soulslike #dark souls #metroid #castlevania

[cpxjunjie]

October 24th; 03:00AM

continue reading if you wanna see the adventures of Junjie o bruxo de martim moniz..

Junjie fidgeted a bit in his spot, something felt odd.

It had been quite the task to sneak out of the Slytherin common room so late in the night without waking Elio up, every step of Junjie’s matching Elio’s light snore for that purpose. Lately the pink-haired boy had been far too attentive to Junjie’s every move.

Nevertheless he made it out and from the dungeons it was a nothing but a quick sprint towards the divination classroom in the North Tower, Junjie had done that same route far too many times in his early years to know which portraits to avoid to remain as stealthy as possible.

He’d held the small, black velvet pouch tightly against his chest, only letting go of it once he made sure to close the trap door that gave access to the old, dusty classroom - seriously would it kill someone to clean that place once in a while? it did none to help with the popularity of Divination among students.

The space was being lit by the full moon, the sheer curtains thankfully doing nothing to cover it, and it was the source Junjie needed to be able to see his cards and map.

He carefully pulled the deck of worn out cards from the pouch as well as a folded paper and a pendulum - a thin silver string that had a ring on one end and a downwards pointing pyramid made out of heliotrope on the other. 

The pendulum had been a more recent “toy” of sorts, given to him by an old lady back in Diagon Alley who’d warned him about his sixth sense and talent with premonitions and whatnot. She hadn’t told him more beyond that though, leaving Junjie to fend for himself. 

He’d badgered the divination’s professor who mumbled she’d never been too good with that due to a complete dissociation from the magical artefacts built from and for the muggle world - a comment that had made Junjie finally feel happy for his half-blood status.

In the end, he found everything he needed in the restricted section of the library, the home of everything divination that would go beyond tasseomancy.

Junjie had learned about pendulums and how they’d work with wizards and witches - they could do so much more than just answering ‘yes’ or ‘no’ - and how what they were made of could influence it even more. 

Turned out that just like the wands, the pendulums picked their guardians, and the old witch at Diagon Alley had done a better job than the guy at Ollivander’s.

The stone his pendulum held at the end was a dark shade of green with a few dots and streaks of vivid crimson, which had earned it a cool muggle name of ‘Bloodstone’ (well, at least he found it cool). It supposedly helped with energy blockage (he was still to see about that) and it went with a lot of stuff he vaguely remembered hearing Jihyuck ramble about once but had tuned off.

Junjie slipped the ring of the pendulum on his middle finger and held the stone between his thumb with his arm stretched over the small map. “Will this fog ever clear out of our heads?” he mumbled. It was a question he’d tried to get from the cards which had obviously failed since his deck was incomplete. 

He released the pendulum and watched the dark stone wiggle around a little bit before starting to move in a clockwise motion - a yes. That was reassuring at least.

Junjie picked up the stone once again, it seemed silly to flat out ask who killed the professor - he knew better after having failed with the ball and the complete deck - he had however suspicions that needed to be cleared out.

It was easy to see why divination was a widely detested subject by most, sometimes you could get clear answers from obvious questions, other times you’d have to beat around all the bushes to get a hint of an answer. You just needed to broaden your senses and learn to interpret the vibe from your tools, just like a wand, the cards, for example, would occasionally refuse to cooperate.

He looked at the map as he tried to figure out the best way to ask the next question.

The piece of paper had a wide circle with all sorts of markings, lines and symbols, however twelve of them caught his eye more than the others. Promptly the question left his lips: “Who should i look out for?”

The pendulum once again wiggled shortly upon release and after a few uncertain sways in no particular direction it came to an abrupt halt over one of the symbols - the one circle with a semi-circle on top.

Junjie stopped, nevertheless still keeping him arm outstretched over the map. “This is taurus, right?” he asked out loud since talking to himself was an old habit. “Who the fuck in our group is a taurus?”

Perhaps paying more attention to birthdays would be a thing he would benefit from.

However, before he could reach for his phone in search of the birthdays on the calendar, the pendulum started moving once again, this time to trace several ellipses over the symbol of the circle with a squiggly line to its right - Leo.

“Ok i know who that is... maybe, Elio is a leo, right? And Vincent?” he mumbled with a small frown. “But why ellipses, what do those mean?” 

It was like the stone was mocking him for his ignorance.

“You know, an ouija board can at least spell stuff out,” he sighs in frustration, finally putting down the pendulum.

It was time to bring out the big guns.

Junjie quickly shuffled his cards before displaying them face down in a cross figure, the two in the centre overlapping one another on a cross of their own. He placed down the remaining deck before deftly picking up the first card with his left hand - the one in the centre below the other.

The hanged man.

He could feel his soul scoff, some exquisite level of transcendence in the light of current circumstances. He didn’t even need to read too much into the “interpretational” meaning of that card, it would be silly to do so, this card simply meant none other than Vincent. 

Vincent who had found said card. Vincent who had retrieved it to Junjie. Vincent who sought enlightenment more than anyone and could potentially stumble into messy situations for it.

He turned the card that was on top of it - The Knight of Swords. It was as if the cards were making sure he’d understand this reading was about Vincent, as if he was very daft.

His hand then moved to the card on the top of the cross, the one that would determine what could be achieved in the current circumstances - The Seven of Pentacles. Basically the card that predicted a long wait and patience for his actions to bear fruits, a result that got Junjie intrigued.

Moving onto the card at the bottom of the cross the turned over he found The Two of Wands, a card that told Junjie the reason for his reading was related to assessing one’s life direction.

The card that would expose Vincent’s past was the one on the left and Junjie had done readings for Vincent enough times to just know the card he’d turn over was The Moon, a card that reflected the obscure veil that took over his past but also how shining a light on it could bring more to Vincent’s life than he could foresee.

Finally, Junjie moved his hand over to the last card, letting it hover it for a bit as his sixth sense suddenly kicked in, warning him that perhaps whatever the cards had to tell him about Vincent’s future might not please him.

Junjie trapped his lip between his teeth, he could even hear his own heartbeat suddenly speed up.

It had to be like ripping up a band-aid, like his mother used to tell him when he was a kid.

In a swift movement he turned the card over.

The Two of Cups.

...

A full minute must’ve gone by before Junjie finally found it in himself to react, promptly packing his cards, map and pendulum back into the satchel before numbly making his way down to the dungeons and into his bed.

It was with half a mind he told Elio to go back to sleep with the reassurance he had only gone to take a piss when the other Slytherin woke up with him slipping under covers.

‘Two of cups,’ he thought to himself ‘more like two fuck ups.’

#junjie is the new dawon from wjsn secret mv #two things: this wasn't proofread.. i'll explain the card later #ALSO WOW THIS WAS A BUMPY RIDE OF ME EXPLAINING MY NEW HOBBIES #纸牌: #i had too much fun

[sketcher-boy]

Scooby Redux - Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Surprise! I'm also aspiring to be a writer boy. This chapter will mark one of the very many attempts I have planned for doing a personal re-write of 'Scooby Doo, Where Are You?' set in a semi-modern era of the late 90's. These chapters will of course be based off the episodes, as a way of re-introducing some of the characters, and plots that you might vaguely remember. I’m just starting out with posting fan fiction and stories on this site, so if you have any pointers on how I should go about doing it better, I’d be glad to hear any comments! I hope you enjoy reading.

SYNOPSIS: What a night for a knight, right? Some might remember a particular night like this as being the first in a very long journey for a certain group of meddling kids. Others might remember it a little differently, given that history does have a tendency of being mixed up as it keeps getting repeated. This historical event is no exception to that mixture. You might remember the original story very well, but then again you might also remember it just vaguely enough to where a re-telling like this will help bring your memories back. Possibly even create cooler memories! Only one way to find out.

A long time ago, Shaggy and Scooby were walking home from the movies...

 Sunday, September 13, 1997            “What a nervous night to be walkin’ home from the movies, Scooby Doo.” A shaky voice spoke out among the sounds of crickets, and owls hooting in the Coolsville woods. The source of the statement of course being from a young man, no more than seventeen at the most. His green T-shirt appeared to be the only thing that could be made out through the darkness of the night, and the thickness of the fog. Unlike his brown companion walking alongside him, who just happened to be a Great Dane breed.            “And, all because you had to see ‘Star, Dog Ranger of the North Woods’. Twice!” The young teenager clarified as he held up his index, and middle fingers for emphasis. The Great Dane, affectionately known as ‘Scooby Doo’ simply released a few happy giggles as he nodded his head, signaling that he was proud of his decision to have his human friend accompany him to a movie presentation two times. It almost made you wonder just why the theater allowed a dog into the screening rooms in the first place. Before either of them could further dwell on their previous events, a sudden croaking started to sound off near them, halting their words for just a moment.            “What the-? ‘Sat you?” The teen asked his canine friend, to which Scooby simply shook his head to signal that he hadn’t made the noise. “T-Then, like...it must be comin’ from the bushes...you’d better see what it is, Scoob.” That suggestion merely made the dog jolt upward with a look of shock, and confusion. “Don’t worry! I’m right behind ya.”            “...rhanks a rot.” Scooby sarcastically thanked his friend before directing his attention back to the bush before him, figuring that it would just have to be now or never before he was feeding his curiosity to find out just what the noise was. Taking a deep breath, Scooby was soon leaning his head downward until it was completely engulfed by the dark green leaves. A bit of rustling later, and the dog was bringing his head back to reveal to the teenager that it was simply just a toad that had frightened them. The small creature resting on Scooby’s nose.            “Well, geez! Guess you’ve found a new travelin’ buddy, Scoob!” The teen commented with a chuckle, just seconds before the toad decided to suddenly spring off the dog’s snout with a ‘sproing’ noise being left behind with his exit from the scene. Naturally Scooby began to give chase to the small toad, due to over excitement, a barrage of barks leaving his muzzle as he ran down the dirt path with all four of his legs.            “Scooby, come back! Wait-!” The teen raised his arm to try and call his friend back before he got into anymore trouble, his long, jean covered legs carrying him straight after the two animals for a good five minutes before his sneaker covered feet ended up tripping right over Scooby’s hunched back. It seemed that the trail for the toad had been lost, and Scooby forgot to signal that he had stopped, resulting in the lanky male now laying on his stomach with a groan.            “...next time, you may consider having a signal ready for me.” The teen commented with a small roll of his eyes before he turned his head, letting his dark brows raise upward.            “Whoa...check that out!” He was soon sitting upright, Scooby turning his own head to see that there was an abandoned pick-up truck parked on the nearby road. It looked like it had gotten into a recent accident, and it got the boys curious enough to walk over towards it.            “Anybody home?” The six foot tall man called out jokingly as him and his dog stopped right in front of the driver door. What neither of them expected was to get an answer back, especially not from what currently sat in front of them. In the driver’s seat, there appeared to be the upper body of a black suit of armor currently gripping the steering wheel of the truck. The one, and impossible response that the empty suit had given was only in the form of a low, and creepy squeak coming from the head area. Coincidentally enough, that seemed to be the area that was giving way as the helmet started rocking, eventually falling right off the shoulders until it landed right in front of the man, and dog duo.            “...hah…hah-hah..!” The boy and Great Dane attempted to laugh and get a kick out of what they’d just witnessed, but they just couldn’t find any humor in such a horrifying image. The two of them were both sent running back where they had come from, panting and breathing heavily out of sheer fear.            “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” The teenager repeated to himself as one of his hands quickly darted down into the back pocket of his brown, baggy pants, pulling out a cell phone before his thumb was flipping it open.            “I gotta call Fred!” The male frantically spoke out as he dialed the corresponding numbers on the phone’s pad. It was clear that this was a matter that couldn’t be handled by just the two of them, so they would need all the assistance they could get. Elsewhere in the city, there was a lone van driving down a dark road, the headlights allowing the large vehicle to part the fog to allow it further entry for each mile. Inside the vehicle of the blue, green, and orange color variety were three individuals that seemed to be accustomed, and matching with them respectively.            “I’m just saying, a bear with a tie sounds a little far-fetched.” One of the two females continued a previously established conversation as she sat behind the two front seats that the driver, and passenger were placed down in. She appeared to have short brown hair, a pair of glasses to give great detail to her accompanying brown eyes, freckles spotted all along her pale face, and a bright orange turtleneck sweater all snug around her short figure.            “It’s exactly as I read it in the news! A tall grizzly was spotted in the middle of the park, attempting to nab a picnic basket wearing a green hat, and tie. What could you possibly mistake it for, Velma?” The other female in the passenger seat asked while turning her head to address her friend with glasses. She herself was dolled up a bit more feminine. Accompanying her beautiful features, and flowing locks of red hair was a fashionable purple dress with a light green scarf wrapped nice and secure around her neck, her gloss coated lips smiling with humor.            “You’re leaving out the possibility of it being a really hairy man, Daphne.” The most masculine of the three pointed out as he raised an index finger, his opposite hand holding onto the steering wheel in front of him. He looked to be quite handsome with the way his short blonde hair was combed, along with a long-sleeved white shirt to cover his physique underneath. What really seemed to tie together the boy’s American look was the orange ascot tied securely through the neck of his blue collar.            “No average bear is smarter than the rest. Therefore, the logical conclusion is that it was simply just a homeless, unusually hairy man looking to get a quick snack! Plus-” The driver was forced to halt his counter argument as he heard the sound of his phone ringing in his pocket, the tone set to the tune of 'Sugar, Sugar' by The Archies. Curious enough about the sudden call this late, the blond decided to pull out the device and check out who was making the call.            “It’s Shaggy! I thought he was at the movies?” He pondered aloud before flipping the phone open and pressing it to his ear.            “Hello? Shag-...whoa, whoa, hey! Calm down. You saw what?” The two girls near their driver gave confused glances towards one another as they witnessed what could be quite the call of distress.            “He’s saying that he and Scooby found a...headless body?” The young man spoke towards his friends before focusing his attention back onto his phone call.            “Alright. Just tell us where you are, and we’ll come to you!” He tried to explain before quite the shocking sight emerged in front of the van’s headlights, causing Daphne to let out a scream.            “Fred! Watch out!” She shouted out to the driver, causing him to pull his focus from the phone and to the actual direction in which he was going. His blue eyes widened up considerably as he could barely make out two figures that seemed to be coming right at them, causing Fred to slam his sneaker covered foot straight against the brake pedal. Just as soon as the car had come to a complete stop, the figures were sooner faceplanting against the wide windshield of the vehicle. The sources of the near accident were revealed to be Scooby himself, and his human best friend, faces flat against the window with puzzled expressions.            “...you could’ve chosen a less grand way of telling me, Shag.” Fred spoke, still not losing that shocked look that he had gained from the realization that he nearly ran over his two friends, who seemed to be taking their sweet time with sliding off the windshield.            “What in the world were you two running from anyway?” Velma decided to pipe up after she stepped out of the van through the double back doors, approaching the human and dog duo to see if they needed any medical attention. Shaggy was the one to hop up onto his feet first, revealing to be quite alright despite the life changing experience he had just lived through.            “What else?! Something scary!” Shaggy explained with his skinny arms raised in the air with panic.            “Reah! Real rary!” Scooby interjected as he shook on all four of his legs, looking like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. Especially considering that he was still standing in front of the brightly colored van’s shining lights.            “We were literally just standing in front of a guy with his hands on the wheel of his truck, and his head just...fell right off!” Shaggy looked like he was almost going to break down, if Fred hadn’t stepped out of the vehicle and placed his hands on the other male’s shoulders.            “Shag, c’mon. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation to what you saw.” Fred tried to speak naturally to calm his friend down, but the lankier of the two seemed to be focused on gripping both sides of his own head as he shivered.            “I-I didn’t even stop to take off the helmet he had on! I thought body armor was supposed to protect people-”            “Wait...armor?” Fred interjected with an even more confused tone than before, his eyes soon going into a small squint. Daphne, and Velma both seemed to share the same skeptical expression as they glanced towards each other.            “...I think it’s time we got another look at this body~.” Fred simply smiled calmly as he cocked his head towards the van behind him, gesturing Shaggy and Scooby to join Velma inside before the team of teenagers were continuing their journey down the road. Luckily Shaggy and Scooby hadn’t ran too far from the action before the Mystery Machine was parking itself just behind the truck that contained a headless suit of armor in the front seat, and a giant crate in the back.            “And this is where you found it, guys?” Fred asked quizzically as he switched off the van, turning his head to see the guys cowering in the back.            “Like, don’t remind us! Just see for yourself!” Shaggy’s index finger pointed towards the blue colored vehicle parked in front of them, causing the three braver members of the group to step out of the van, and start to investigate with their flashlights. Upon closer inspection of the armor seated in the truck’s front seat, it soon became obviously clear to Fred, and the girls that it wasn’t actually a body that had lost it’s head, but rather just an empty suit of armor belonging to a knight.            “Put your minds at ease, fellas! It’s completely empty in here.” Velma called out as she pointed her flashlight towards the cowardly pair that were seated in the front of the group’s van. Hesitantly, but obediently, they stepped out to join the others surrounding the crashed truck.            “But, Shaggy was right, though. This is pretty strange!” Daphne remarked as she shined her light among the armor’s outer shoulder, just before she was walking around towards the back to find any type of information regarding the large crate’s significance.            “You’re telling me! What would an empty suit of armor be doing in the driver’s seat of this pick-up?” Fred tapped his chin as he turned his head back towards Velma, who he assumed would have a logical answer.            “Maybe he was...going out for the knight!” Shaggy ended up being the one to give the answer, albeit less logical than what Fred would have expected. Scooby seemed to be the only one finding that little quip hilarious, while Velma just gave a small roll of her eyes behind those glasses.            “We may not know why it’s here, but I think we have a good idea on where it was coming from. Take a look at this, Fred.” Daphne called the blond over with a dainty hand before pointing her light to something that was placed on the side of the wooden crate in the back. It took a small moment of reading for Fred to grasp the armor’s origin.            “Hmm...apparently it was coming from London, England, and being delivered by an archaeologist professor named ‘Jameson Hyde White’.” Fred read through the shipping information curiously.            “Like, I’ve heard of hide and seek before, but I’ve never heard of Hyde White!” Shaggy remarked with another pun before him and his best friend proceeded to laugh about it once more.            “You comedians, that’s a legitimate English name~.” Velma commented to the taller person’s joke while lightly smacking his forearm.            “Hey, what’s this?” Daphne asked mostly to herself as she crouched down beside one of the front tires of the truck, picking up a small slip of paper that had been laying on the road.            “It’s a delivery label that says to...deliver to the county museum? At least we know where the old knight was headed for!” The redhead piped up to the rest of the group with a smile.            “That’s usin’ the old noodle, Daph, but like...if our mysterious professor was the one driving, then where is he now?” Shaggy asked while folding his arms and tilting his head, Scooby easily mimicking those actions with his front legs.            “Off the top of my head, I’d have to say he’s disappeared. Who knows how long this truck has been sitting here?” One of Daphne’s hips cocked out as she placed a hand against it.            “There’s no telling. But, I’ll tell you this. I think it sounds like we’re up to our armor plates in another mystery!” Fred announced to the group as he placed his own hands on his hips.            “And, our first option should be to complete the professor’s delivery in the morning before school. Who’ll volunteer to keep the knight at their house tonight?” The leader glanced around towards his friends, who seemed to go completely silent at the question. Nothing but the sounds of crickets filling the outside air around them.            “...well, don’t everybody rush all at once now. Just raise your hand if you’re game! Anyone at all.” Just a few seconds after his offer had been placed down on the table, the gang’s Great Dane decided to get a little sneaky as he reached his paw down to grab a nearby broken branch, raising the end of it just behind Shaggy’s head to lightly scratch against his skull in a rather annoying manner. As soon as the tall male raised his hand and attempted to bat away at whatever was bothering him, his fate was immediately sealed.            “Ah! I knew we could count on you, Shagster!” Fred opened up his arms as he gave two thumbs up towards the skinniest teen of the four.            “Huh?! Oh no…” There was nothing stopping Shaggy from seeing the big picture that he had been duped by his own buddy, and his hand was the only one being held up. Sometimes he wished that Scooby would learn to keep his big paws down.            Friday, August 17, 1989            “You have to understand, Mrs. Rogers, Scoobert is a sort of...special case.” An elderly woman explained with a bit of a hesitant expression on her face. She was seated behind a desk with her hands folded against the surface of it, her graying hair curled up at every place at once, while her triangle shaped glasses were securely resting against her nose to clearly help her see the much younger looking woman sitting in front of her.            “Well, my son is the same way, Mrs. Knittingham!” The lighter skinned female with much straighter, blonde hair spoke out with a chipper tone in comparison as she folded her hands in her lap.            “Having Scoobert in his life would be really important to him. Despite either of their quirks, these two were definitely made for each other.” Mrs. Rogers mused as she glanced out the nearby window to see a young child in a green T-shirt, not much older than ten, playing with a brown, black-spotted puppy out in the sunny day. No mistake about it, they were getting along pretty well as they rolled around on the grass with one another, just enjoying the available company before the small Great Dane was cheering through the air.            “Scooby Dooby Dooooooooo~!”

#rewrite #scooby doo where are you #fred jones #daphne blake #velma dinkley #shaggy rogers #scooby doo #scooby doo au #fanfiction #first story

[this-is-a-chat-astrophe]

Oblivious ch 7

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8

AO3

Marinette is afraid that she ruined two beautiful things before they really had the chance to begin. Chat Noir hasn’t texted her in days and a lack of akumas came with a lack of opportunities to see her crush. I must have made him uncomfortable, she thought to herself, face shoved into her pillow. She knows that she’s also ruined her friendship with Adrien by avoiding him. Maybe Chat somehow found out about her budding crush for Adrien and decided he didn’t want to talk to a person so fickle.

She screams into her pillow at two in the morning, drowning out the knock on her roof.

Adrien knows this is a bad idea but he has to know. She’s seemed so down the past few days and it hurts to not know the reason. He could text her, it would be so much easier than rousing Plagg in the middle of the night for a surprise excursion, but he is drawn to her. No matter how stabbing the pain of seeing her is, her sadness hurts even more. He wants to be close to her, even if it couldn’t be as Adrien.

When she doesn’t answer, he knocks on the balcony hatch a second time, this time in a short tune so she knows it’s deliberate as opposed to the wind tipping a flower pot.

The noise startles Marinette, but before fear can take control Tikki assures her there is no danger. “Just open it,” the cheery red companion says. Marinette gasps when bright green eyes peer at her when she opens the hatch.

“Hi, Marinette,” he says as casually as he can, heart beating painfully fast. She’s wearing Chat-noir themed pajamas: black paw-print patterned pajama pants with a green tee shirt. Hopefully the darkness hides his blush. “Can I come in?”

Marinette blushes and stutters but steps aside to clear his path. Chat jumps in, nearly falling off her lofted bed, and follows her down to the main area of her room. She sits on her desk chair and motions him to the chaise lounge.

“W-what’re you doing here?”

“I saw you earlier and you seemed sad so I was wondering if you were okay,” he says, the words well rehearsed. Plagg could recite the statement from memory due to the number of times Adrien practiced it during the day.

I can’t tell him the truth, she thinks to herself, but I don’t want to lie. She decides to bend the truth. “Things are weird between a friend and I right now. I know I have Alya and Nino but I feel like I can’t tell them everything so it’s been pretty lonely. It’s like there’s a part of me that only he gets.”

“Do you like him?” Adrien asks before he can stop the words. Stupid! he yells at himself. He doesn’t want know the answer but it’s too late now.

Blush dusts Marinette’s cheeks. It’s one thing to bend the truth for a vague question, but she can’t bring herself to lie when he asks her something so straightforward, no matter how much she’d prefer to not tell him. As his partner, she owes him honesty, even if he doesn’t know that’s the case.

“I don’t know. A few days ago my friend and I hung out like we’d done plenty of times before but something changed and I don’t know what to think anymore. I already have someone I like so I feel awful for even thinking that way about Adrien.”

Chat startles, nearly falling off the lounge. He catches himself halfway down, looking ridiculous with his body hanging off the chair.

“Are you okay?”

Marinette gets up to help but he is already back in his chair.

“Do you mean Adrien Agreste?”

Fidgeting hands and a quiet nod are her answer.

Chat barely hides a smile.

“We are -were- close friends, or at least I think we were.” Marinette can’t look Chat in the eyes but she can’t seem to shut her mouth either and the words pour out. “He always seems so lonely. He doesn’t have many friends, which I don’t understand because he’s a good, kind person, so I want to be there for him.”

Her words burn a hole in Chat’s heart. She thinks he’s a good, kind person, and that makes everything a little better. But her opening and closing statements cool the embers.

“You haven’t stopped being friends just because things are weird between you two, unless that’s what you want. And if you want to be there for m-him, why aren’t you?” He curses himself for his near slip-up. “He’s probably hurting too, if he’s really as lonely as you say.”

Marinette drops her head in her hands, groaning. “I know, and that makes me feel even worse about it! I don’t want to make him even lonelier but I don’t know what to do. I like someone else but recently whenever I see Adrien my chest hurts and I don’t know what to say.”

“Who is the other person you like?” Chat asks tentatively, anticipating heartbreak.

Neither of them can bare to look up.

“It doesn’t matter,” she mutters, voice small enough to draw Chat’s attention. He’s never heard her sound so insecure before. “He’s way out of my league so it’ll never happen.” After a pause, she adds, “Not that Adrien’s not out of my league. Either way I’m destined for heartbreak.”

Chat is dumbstruck. Marinette is one of the most confident people he’s ever met; he never imagined she would think of herself in such a way. She think he’s out of her league? It’s the complete opposite!

The dull sound of Chat’s boots moving across the room makes Marinette think she scared him away. Of course he’s going to leave, we barely know each other as Marinette and Chat Noir so I shouldn’t have unloaded so much on him, she chides herself. But then the footsteps get louder, as if he’s coming closer. Something falls over her and she nearly screams, but then she realizes it’s her blanket.

“I’m going to drop my transformation for a few minutes if that’s okay,” she hears through the fabric. She replies with a simple okay. “Plagg, claws in.” A faint gleam of green shows through the blanket but that’s all she sees.

“You got any cheese lady?”

Marinette yelps at the new voice.

“Plagg, don’t be rude,” Adrien reprimands. “There’s cheese in my bag.”

With Plagg taken care of, Adrien addresses the issue at hand. “I’m going to give you my hand, okay?”

“O-okay.”

A naked hand slides under the blanket, reaching for hers.

Internally, Marinette is freaking out. Chat Noir is in her room, in his civilian form, holding her hand. In this moment she could die happy, though she hopes that won’t be the case.

“I’ve heard that you can tell if someone’s lying by if their heart rate increases. I want you to know that I’m going to tell the truth.” It isn’t until he feels Marinette’s cool fingers press against his wrist that he continues. “There is nobody out of your league. You’re determined and beautiful and you can make anyone fall in love with you, sometimes without even trying. If you think someone’s out of your league, it’s because you underestimate yourself and overestimate them. In the end we’re all human.”

“Even you?” she jokes, knowing full well it’s true.

Chat chuckles. “Yes, princess, even me. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a teenage boy under the leather and cat ears.”

“A very busy one, apparently.” She means it as a joke but the words feel like acid in her mouth, corroding her smile from the inside out.

“Well yeah,” Chat answers, surprised. “But why do you say that?”

Marinette answers equally confused. “You haven’t answered my texts in the past few days.”

“I never got them.” Adrien’s words slow as understanding sinks in. He cranes his head to glare at the feline god atop his satchel. At Plagg, he mouths, we’re talking about this later. Plagg turns away. He doesn’t regret what he did. “You can try texting me now and we’ll see if it’ll go through.”

“My phone is, um, not on me. I think it’s on my desk.”

Adrien looks past her at the desk. The device isn’t there.

“Nope, not there.”

“In my vanity?”

The loss of contact when he stands makes the both of them shiver, not that either can see the other’s reaction.

“Still nothing,” he answers after checking each drawer.

“Dresser?”

Adrien raises a brow in question though she can’t see. “Do you really want me looking through your dresser?”

Embarrassed, Marinette squeaks. “Of course not! I meant on it.”

It’s Adrien’s turn to be embarrassed. He looks over at the dresser and on top of it is Marinette’s phone. He retrieves the device and gives it to Marinette.

Moments later Adrien’s phone dings. The lock screen reads One New Message. The message, from Marinette, is a shadowy photo of her underneath the blanket, smiling awkwardly. He finds it endearing and saves it, though he doesn’t tell her that. “I got it.”

Then he notices the time.

“Plagg, claws out.”

Chat Noir folds the blanket backwards, exposing Marinette’s face. She instantly blushes at the sight of his cocky grin in such close proximity to her face. “Looks like I gotta go, purrincess. This knight has an early engagement and needs his beauty sleep.” Suddenly Chat realizes how close they are and pulls back, creating space between them.

Halfway up the ladder to her loft Chat stops to give his love some parting advice. “I don’t know about the other guy, but maybe you should give Adrien a chance. I heard somewhere that he’s a good, kind person.” He puts an extra teasing emphasis on his last words, echoing Marinette’s compliment from earlier.

The plush toy Marinette launches at Chat Noir hits him square on the leg, catching him off guard and sending him to the floor with a loud thump.

Marinette is frozen in shock, horrified. She hadn’t thought she’d hit him, especially that hard.

Footsteps coming up the stairs send Marinette into action. She pulls the blanket from her shoulders and drapes it over Chat, hoping she can get to the door before her parents do so she can hide their view.

Tom and Sabine pop their heads up the same time Marinette kneels beside the attic hatch leading into her room.

“Sorry about the noise, I fell out of my chair,” she lies, hoping a story of her clumsiness will placate them.

“You should be more careful, dear,” says Sabine. Her husband stifles a yawn behind her. “We’re going back to bed. Goodnight Marinette, we love you.”

“Goodnight maman, papa. I love you too.”

Once they’re back down the stairs, Marinette and Chat both breathe a sigh of relief. Her parents would be extremely upset if they found a boy in her room this late at night, even if he was a hero. Especially if he was a hero, even, because of the secret identity and everything.

“I really do need to go.” Chat is still underneath the blanket, only the toes of one boot sticking out from the sheath of pink.

Marinette gathers the blanket from on top of the hero and giggles when she sees him. He’s posed, laying sideways on the floor with one knee bent and propping up his head on a hand, the other arm bent up. It’s a classic ‘draw me like one of your french girls’ pose.

“Goodnight Chat.”

He pauses, wondering if he should push it. “I…” Chat almosts drop the subject but then Marinette tilts her head and her hair falls in her face and she tucks it back behind her ear and Adrien’s heart bangs in his chest and the words come out on their own. “I meant what I said about giving Adrien a chance. I hope you at least talk to him, because he probably doesn’t even know why things are weird between you two right now. He probably thinks he lost one of his only friends and that it’s his fault.”

Marinette reaches out a hand to help him up. He takes it and tries to ignore how small her hands are in comparison to his. How didn’t he notice that earlier?

“You’re right, Chat.”

Chat salutes her and bids his lovely princess goodnight.

Their interaction runs through Marinette’s mind for the rest of the night. She plays it through over and over again, picking it apart, asking Tikki advice and insight. Chat Noir complimented her and confirmed that he wasn’t ignoring her, which was amazing. But he also practically  recommended Marinette date Adrien, unaware that he is the other person she cares for. Isn’t that a bad sign? That means he doesn’t like her, right?

“I don’t know, Marinette.” Tikki says, cutting Marinette’s woeful rant short. “It might mean he doesn’t like you. It might also mean he’d rather you be with Adrien, whom he knows is a good person, than the other person who you didn’t say anything about since the lack of information made him think the worst. You won’t know if you don’t ask him.”

Marinette snorts. “There’s no way I’m just going to go up to him and say ‘hey hot stuff, you told me to try dating Adrien but did you do that because you aren’t interested in me or because you didn’t realize the other person I like is you and you would rather I be with someone that you know is a good person than someone you know nothing about?’ That’s not happening.”

“Are you going to follow his advice?”

Sigh. “I don’t know. I’m definitely going to talk to Adrien, though. It’s not fair for me to ignore him without giving him a reason why.”

“Apology cookies always work on me!” Tikki chirps.

This makes Marinette smile. “That settles it. I’m going to school tomorrow with a bag of cookies and an apology.”

_________________________

“Plagg, did you delete my messages?!”

Plagg flies to the top of the rock wall, hiding from his charge’s wrath despite knowing the worst Adrien would do is deny him cheese. “You were hurting, kid. I don’t like seeing my kittens hurting.”

Adrien’s glare softens. Plagg seems like a mean old grump but he really cares. “Plagg, come back down. I’ll get you some cheese before I go to bed.”

The god zips down from his perch into the arms of his human. “I’m glad you’re doing better,” he mumbles.

“She said she might like Adrien, meaning I still have a chance. I’m hoping luck is on my side just this once.”

‘I’m the god of bad luck so don’t hold your hopes up,’ Plagg thinks, but for once he keeps his mouth shut and lets Adrien have some peace.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #adrienette #marichat #my drabbles

[jswdmb1]

Video Killed The Radio Star

“We hear the playback 

and it seems so long ago

And you remember 

the jingles used to go”

- The Buggles

My mom asked me to help her set up an Apple TV a while back, and it made me realize how far we have come as far as entertainment options go.  I remember the day my dad came home and announced he saw that they were installing cable TV lines in the neighborhood.  He was about as excited as I have ever seen him.  It meant we increased our channel roster from about five to over thirty!  There was a network that played sports 24 hours a day!  We could watch movies at home uncut and uninterrupted.  I wanted my MTV and now I got it!  It may seem quaint to someone who wasn’t there at the time, but it was an incredibly cool and mind-blowing experience when you consider how our viewing experience exponentially changed with the installation of that little black cable.

As I was setting up the Apple TV, and all of the incredible options that come with it, I did not feel the same as that day in 1983 when I could now watch Nickelodeon and Australian rules football to my heart’s content.  Sure, the explosion of viewing options within cable and streaming services are just awesome, but sometimes it seems too much.  The immediate gratification of it all is disappointing as well.  The concept of binge watching seems to take away from the anticipation we used to have from the episode we waited all week for (or all summer for a cliffhanger).  That anticipation would start with the show’s theme song, which I feel is a real lost art.  Just the act of hearing that familiar tune along with credits and scenes of the stars of the show was almost as exciting as the show itself.  It may make me seem old and out-of-touch, but I really miss those days when we lived without DVRs and on demand viewing and got real theme songs to kick off your entertainment viewing experience.

But instead of rueing over days long lost, let’s celebrate some of those old shows (that ironically are all over Hulu and Netflix) that were not only great programs, but had the type of theme songs that really made you feel good when they came on.  It meant something that you waited for all week was about to arrive, and for an hour or two you could lose yourself in a world away from your own.  I now present to you my ten favorite tv theme songs and their shows, in no particular order:

1) All in the Family - In fall of 1973, CBS put forth what is considered the finest lineup on one night in television history. On Saturday nights, people stayed home for three straight hours of unparalleled entertainment. This was the start of it all at 7:00 (all times I give you are Central). There was no better lead off than Edith and Archie sitting at the piano singing “Those Were the Days”. How cool is it to have your lead actors sing the theme song live. All In the Family was so great it had a separate ending theme. You can read plenty elsewhere about the groundbreaking episodes that went on in between, but the theme music from this series gets us off and running.

2) Rockford Files - This show always opened with a unique montage of a client of Jim’s leaving a message on his answering machine. What followed was what I consider the best music composition on the list. Written by Mike Post, it is a funky, hard driving and timeless theme just like the Pontiac Firebird he drove. I like this song so much it is often in my normal rotation on many of my daily playlists. The program was great, for sure my favorite detective show of all time, but I would tune in just for this song.

3) Hill Street Blues - This is another Mike Poat theme, but couldn’t be more different than Rockford’s theme. Jazzy rather than funky and smooth versus hard driving, the piano of the song seemed to sum up everything this show was about. I recently caught up with some episodes on Hulu recently and forgot how ahead of its time this show was. Before Hill Street Blues, police dramas tended to tie things up neatly before the hour ended. This show, like life, didn’t always work out so well. The sadness of the lives in the people in the show is tinged throughout the theme. But, you also hear some hope in the final chords, and I think that what the show was all about. It told us that life could be a grind and full of despair, but there are also a lot of good people trying their best to ease suffering and make this world a better place. That’s a lot to pack into one theme song, but this one hits all the right notes.

4) M*A*S*H - This was in the 7:30 slot on the CBS Saturday lineup and was put there to boost its ratings in its second season. As hard as it is to believe in hindsight, the show struggled to find its audience in its first year. For many folks, the opening theme was their first introduction to this unique medical/war comedy/drama. Like the show, the theme (titled “Suicide is Painless”) was taken from the 1970 movie of the same name. The TV version dropped the lyrics and became one of the most instantly recognizable themes ever. The show that followed is very good too. I must confess that I am a bit of a M*A*S*H aficionado and the second season was one of their best (I’m partial to the McLean Stevenson/Wayne Rogers episodes). If you haven’t watched the show in a while, give a couple of episodes a spin (now on Hulu). I’ll bet dollars to donuts you are whistling the theme the rest of the day.

5) WKRP In Cincinnati - A terribly underrated show with an equally underrated theme, the quirky gang at WKRP were always good for some laughs and DJs spinning great records. While the theme song is fantastic (“...baby just think of me once in a while” is such a great line), the real soundtrack of the show was the late 70s/early 80s rock and roll in the background of each episode. Unfortunately, due to licensing issues, you don’t get those songs in the reruns, but the crazy storylines and big laughs that come with them still make this series worth your time. As a side note, the lyrics in the theme at the end are pure jibberish. The writer of the song used nonsense words as placeholders but the producers kept them in as a bit of an inside joke about how hard rock lyrics are to understand. I think that perfectly sums up what WKRP is all about.

6) Mary Tyler Moore Show - Who can turn the world on with a smile?  Mary no doubt did it every Saturday night at 8:00.  I have vague memories of this show the first time it came around as first run episodes, but found it later in reruns and discovered what a true gem it is.  The characters were quirky and unique without being oversimplified and the acting of the supporting cast was brilliant.  Any show with Ed Asner, Ted Knight and Betty White is going to end up being our gold.  As for the theme song, I think it is the most hopeful and happy on the surface, but it always struck a sad note with me.  There always seemed to be a back story with Mary in the show that we weren’t always getting that hinted of difficult times before she got to Minneapolis.  The song echos that and her throwing the hat up at the end seems to tell us that no matter how rough things were, or might end up, she’ll keep that smile on her face.  Not a bad lesson for all of us to follow.

7) Three’s Company - In the interest of full disclosure, I did not watch this show when it first aired.  It was banned from my house by my mother because it was “stupid”.  Once I left the house for college, I wanted to start trying new things and testing my independence in this world, so the first thing I did was devote every weeknight from 10:00 to 11:00 to the Three’s Company reruns on Channel 32.  What I saw was certainly a bit stupid but far from a  waste of time. Arguably, the show included some of the finest physical comedy of it’s day and was a great showcase for actors like John Ritter, Norman Fell (Mr. Roper) and Don Knotts.  Admittedly, the premise and some of the themes of the show have not aged well, but I never saw anything but an intent to have fun and provide a few laughs.  That was conveyed in the theme song which was as light and airy as the breeze coming off the Pacific while standing on the pier in Santa Monica.  For me, just the sound of that song brings back a memory of living in the college dorms and starting off an independent life full of promise and possibilities.  Each episode of this show felt the same even if each could have been solved in the first two minutes with a simple question or statement like “No, Mr. Furley, Jack is getting a Mexican pot to cook in, not the kind you smoke”.  I guess though, that wouldn’t have been all that funny.

8) Barney Miller - This one is on here purely for the bass line.  The notes are unmistakeable and leads into a full jazz combo with killer lead guitar.  The funk you hear in the theme follows along with the show.  The detectives at the precinct seemed to take what initially seemed to be mundane aspects of police work and turn every epsiode into a funky life lesson.  I read somewhere that real cops think this is the police show more true to life than any other they have seen.  I’m guessing it was because they drew up characters so real to the point where you would think of them as people first and not some exaggerated character as most police are drawn up on TV.  The whole thing just worked and really was quite funny.  The episodes hold up very well in reruns as well, so if you have never given it a try, I think you’ll find that it is as good as any other cop show you have seen recently.

9) Bob Newhart Show - Anchoring the CBS Saturday night 8:30 slot is another jazzy instrumental that is a great theme, but in this case the show behind it was the real gem.  Just like Barney Miller, The Bob Newhart Show took the fairly mundane aspects of life - whether it be at the office or at home - and mined them for laugh after laugh.  For those who are finds of Mr. Newhart (Loyola, Class of ‘52), this is no surprise.  Bob could literally turn a phone call into absolute hilarity.  His choice of profession on the show was perfect as well - for those who don’t know he played a psychologist. As someone who has spent a lot of time in the offices of mental health professionals, I can tell you first hand that the only portrayal that I have seen that is true-to-life is the one on this show.  The group therapy sessions are always the real gems and this show nails exactly what they are like.  I can’t it explain it much further, just go get a copy of the first season of this and watch it and you’ll know what I’m talking about.  Also, this show gets credit for one of the best wacky neighbors - Howard the pilot played by the incomparable Bill Daley.  Of all of the shows on this list, this is the one that I would recommend you check out before all others.  

10) The Love Boat - The show was pretty lame though I can be talked into watching anything that could have Sonny Bono, Vincent Price, and Chart as guest stars on the same night.  The theme, however, was a winner.  Sure it was cheesy, but it fit the series perfectly and always gave me the impression that I would know I made it in life if I could take a cruise on a boat like the Pacific Princess (I haven’t so I guess that I’m still waiting to make it).  Another reason that I love this show is that I have fond memories watching it with my Grandma when we would occasionally stay over at her house on Saturday nights.  Her smart comments about all of the washed up actors and how bad they looked or untalented they were was the real entertainment of the evening.  Plus, just the fact that she let us stay up late to watch it was a real treat in it of itself.  She would make us popcorn and let us have a soda and we could just live it up.  It’s funny how the most simple things in life end up being the most memorable.  I’d give anything right now for an hour again with her and that show.  Gosh, what fun.

Honorable mentions include the themes from Hawaii 5-0, The Golden Girls, Cheers, Sanford & Son, The Greatest America Hero, Good Times, The Odd Couple, Welcome Back Kotter, and Miami Vice

Now, I know that I’m being a real old-timer here by bringing out these ancient shows, but I will challenge you to a different binge-watching experience before passing judgment on my list.  Just You Tube the ten opening theme songs/credits that I list here and watch them in order.  You don’t even have to watch whole episodes of these shows (though if you the time you should). I guarantee that you will get a feel for what it was like when these shows were first on the tube.  Or, if that’s too much work, I made you a playlist with a few other favorites:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2J8rLlC3FIAvaCLmQg95vT?si=fpgJ8wYaSH-V0M0gP12rvA 

I am now at the ending point of this post.  It’s always hard for me to come up with a good finish to one of these.  I now realize that I need a good theme song.  I guess that is going to be hard to convey in written form and also because I don’t have one, but hum something catchy in your head and play it across images of the great times you just had reading this blog.  

Until next time....

Jim

P.S. - The last hour of “The Greatest Night in Television” on CBS was occupied by the Carol Burnett Show. A fantastic program, but not my favorite theme, so it did not make the list. Still worth checking out if you find it on somewhere if only to watch the cast crack up at Tim Conway’s antics.

[shardclan]

Only a few eons ago, Arcanus could not have handled more than two pints of Summerland Ale at a time. He was unaccustomed physically to alcohol and had no drinking etiquette, so his alcohol was quick to disappear and quick to affect him. A fact that had clearly stressed out the owners of the Sundial Brewery--the Queen’s Knight getting plastered by accident in their bar wasn’t good for anybody.

As his attachment to Carnelian developed, so too did his ability to drink properly. Now he idly tilted an amber glass filled with dark rum from the Shrieking Wilds, his mind on other matters even when he bothered to sip.

Beside him, Carnelian was handling his favorite mix of black juniper gin and blood acorn nectar with the familiarity of a beloved familiar. He was also watching Arcanus sulk. At first he suspected it was his imagination, but the few other dragons in the brewery seemed to be picking up on it too. Cloudwhyte alone had been exchanging eye-signals with Carnelian all night that clearly said something was off.

"I'm not sulking," he said, as if hearing Carnelian's thoughts.

"You certainly look like you're sulking."

"Last week I said you looked almost happy while you were telling me about your recent run in with Atushi. Were you happy?"

Carnelian curled his lip. "Of course not."

"Then looks can be deceiving, can't they?"

Carnelian dropped the subject. Arcanus was chatty when he wanted to be, but when he didn't want to be, there was no goading him into talking. And maybe he was right, after all. Carnelian hadn't been happy, he had been...pleasantly surprised is all. Relieved. Anyone would be after the kind of harassment he'd endured from Atsushi in the old days. Cassis and Merlot were keeping a tune that was quiet, but in a sort of jazzy, idyllic way. Nothing sulky about the feel of their music. So maybe Arcanus really wasn't sulking.

It sure looked like it though. And given that he was only there because Telos had dismissed him so she could go back to the Starfall Isles alone (meaning with Bestealcian), it would make sense if he was feeling perhaps a little inadequate. But that was an even more outlandish consideration than him sulking. Arcanus firmly believed in the right person for the right moment and he had left Telos in the Umbra Wolf's care plenty of times.

"Were you hoping to talk to your sister a bit?"

The idle turn of the glass stopped, and Arcanus peered at Carnelian quizzically. "What? Why her?"

"You're a family man, I thought maybe you were hoping to say your own words to her up on the mountain."

Arcanus gave a lengthy, long-suffering sigh that on anyone else would have been dramatic. For him it was just a rare expression of frustration. "Any other hypotheses you've cooked up, detective?"

"You could shut me up easy if you just told me what's up. I'll start getting into the really outlandish shit if you don't reel me in." He hesitated briefly, before taking a big swig of his drink. "Really. This isn't like you. It's bothering me."

The twitch of a smile tilted Arcanus' mouth. Because of his own struggle to speak freely with Ashes, he had picked up on no less than a dozen of the codes Carnelian used when he couldn't just say what he meant. 'It's bothering me' was perhaps the most transparent one. Made him sound like a dick, but the sentiment was right out in the open if you could look past that.

"It's hard to put into words," Arcanus relented. He ran a finger over the edge of the glass, making it hum smoothly. "But it is about Telos. It's not my not being there, it's... I wonder what she could be saying."

"Really?" Carnelian leaned over the bar to get a better look at his friend's face. "My nosy streak rubbing off on you?"

Arcanus shook his head and sipped at the rich, sweet rum. "No. It's not that I want to know, it's more like I already know."

"You already know what she’s saying, but you wonder what she's saying?"

"I told you it's hard to explain." He took another shorter sip and set the glass down to face Carnelian properly. "I..." He glanced at Alchemilla, peacefully cleaning a glass, and Cloudwhyte further down the polished bar, chopping and juicing cocktail ingredients to keep them stocked.

Carnelian picked up both their drinks and dipped his head toward a corner away from the gently lit bar. A flicked match lit the single candle in their booth, and Arcanus peered about until he was satisfied with the level of privacy.

"I know her too well," he whispered. "Her guilt, her sadness, her weariness and sacrifice. How much she misses and longs for her family. I can't imagine what exact words she will have, but the sentiment of them would be nothing new to me."

"What do you expect? You're with her all the time."

"Precisely. Yet it frustrates me." His expression only vaguely matched his words. There was an irritation yes, but he seemed more puzzled than anything else. "I think I am brushing up against a charge-related problem."

Carnelian leaned in close, his voice low and conspiratory. "What like you're worried she's gonna commit suicide or something?"

Arcanus almost spilled both their drinks, but managed to keep his voice an equally harsh whisper. "No, she's not--godsdamn you, why would you even think that?"

"Because so far as I know the biggest charge-related problem is them dying or being hurt!"

"But she is hurt," Arcanus hissed. "She's been hurting since we left the Isles, and nothing heals her. Not her own improvements as queen, or the clan's increasing stability and happiness, not reaching something like peace with Lutia, or their strong relationship with Dreamweaver. And I can't help feeling I should be doing something about that."

"You can't do anything about that."

"I know, and that's what vexes me. Mourning is natural, but I feel I am letting her suffer unnecessarily."

Carnelian snorted and leaned back in his chair. "Nobody has 'let' Telos do anything in half an age. You know she's willful."

"Too well."

The imperial let that one hang. Arcanus had been incredibly hard on himself about Telos' exhaustion and subsequent mandatory vacation. Telling him that trying to get in her way was like trying to stop starfall didn't make him feel any better. A different guardian might have taken that as a sign to be more forceful, but Arcanus wasn't the type. He had knocked Telos' out for her own good when they were fleeing from Lutia and the Seat, but those were harsh times that called for harsh actions.

Arcanus was a guardian among guardians, which meant the minutiae of the code he lived by was unintelligible to Carnelian.

"Did you ever feel like this with the Radiant?" He saw Arcanus' raised brow, and shrugged. "I liked the guy as much as anyone else; I'm glad he and Abaddon were happy together. But objectively, it was terrible in the long run. You had to know well before anyone else that the Radiant wasn't going to abandon the terms of the Pact for love. And when he was exalted, it damaged everyone involved--most of all the Geminids, who were your next charges."

It was a very personal question, and a hard insinuation that Arcanus had improperly handled his charge, but Arcanus curled his arms thoughtfully around his glass and leaned his chin in the crook of one elbow. This was one of Carnelian's more complex forms of code, and Arcanus had learned that such stabbing questions were not meant to make him angrily defend himself, but to make him examine himself. It did follow that if he truly cared about his charge's emotional well-being, he should have been more proactive about the Radiant and even more so about the Geminids. And yet...

The door open with a faint chime and the shadow of Bestealcian manifested. Her eyes briefly met Arcanus', judged him too far into his drink to bother with, and she melted easily out of the warm, coppery light of the bar. Behind her, Telos closed the door and sat at the bar with the exhausted weight of a glacier dropping into the ocean.

"Rakia," she said in a throaty rasp.

Cloudwhyte found himself fumbling, both because of the queen's presence and her unusual demeanor. Her countenance was heavy, though not necessarily with sorrow. She hardly seemed to be looking at him. Not a far away gaze, but one with an absolute subject that wasn't him even though she was looking him in the eye.

"B-blackberry or potash peach...?"

"Blackberry."

Recommended Listening: Garden of Everything

Carnelian flicked an ear to the change in Merlot and Cassis' music choice even as he kept his eyes on Telos. The wait for her drink was spent gently turning Fragment's ring in fingers. When it came, she ignored it to slip the battered band experimentally around her fingers. Even with it mangled, and even with her rough hands, it was still too big for her, clinging only in those places where it was bent in. 

She could have been any traveler stopping for a drink to nurse some bittersweet memory with.

"I didn't get to know any of them," Arcanus said softly. "Not half as well as Telos. The time I spent with them, until the Radiant and the Geminids, was short. An eon and a half. The Radiant only a little more, two and half; the Geminids, three and a half." He turned his eyes from Telos' silhouette to the candle on their table. "I can't tell myself I should have been looking out for the emotional well-being of each one. I can't retroactively make that my responsibility."

"Why not?"

"Because it would have involved me in decisions above my station. The Pact wasn't just unkind to the Radiant. He chose love knowing it would end how it did. Should I have chided him? Told him to be like the Economist?" He gave a breathy laugh even as he grimaced at the memory. "You remember how she was."

"Yep. Dead-eyed bitch with no smile, no optimism, and no love in her heart. Closest I've ever come to falling in love at first sight."

"...Okay, that interesting glimpse into your psyche aside, she did have love in her. She had dreams of a wife to love and to love her. But she locked that away when she was chosen. You may find what she became attractive, but that was the Economist gone cold. She had to give the clan her life, but she begrudged it even a glimpse of her love. Should I have preserved her warmth by having her go the Radiant's road? Hell, the Lovers talked about running away together all the time. They wanted to live long, saccharine lives with dozens of children. Should I have let them abandon the Pact to make them happy?"

Carnelian gave a slow, considering bob of his head and lit a cigar. "Alright, so you gotta stick to the physical aspect of the thing because getting involved in the emotional bit is...well, there ain't a way for you to know what the best thing for them is. Fair. But what makes Telos different?"

Arcanus gazed back at Telos nursing her drink with tired determination. "Time and intimacy I suppose. I've been at her side for no less than 70% of nearly every day since we arrived at the Promenade. And while others slowly move on...she doesn't. She always has new tears to cry. I know she built her name and image on mourning, but it worries me."

"I want her to be happy. Actually happy, not just pleased by things as they are. And the thing that will make her happy cannot be done."

Carnelian slowly drew in on his cigar. With the utmost care, he said nothing at all.

#Flight Rising #New Days Dawn #C: Carnelian #C: Arcanus

[weavingthetapestry]

Setting the King on his Throne: Isabella of Fife, Countess of Buchan

It’s been a while and I hope everyone had a good new year! For my part, I’m kicking off the year with a rather well-known figure: Isabella of Fife, Countess of Buchan, one of the most famous women of the Wars of Independence (no mean feat- there are not enough famous ladies, but there are quite a lot who deserve to be). Aside from her actions in 1306 and subsequent imprisonment, Isabella is quite a shadowy figure, but she is a highly important one in Scottish history and definitely deserves a place on this blog. After all, if you can't find room in your day for a woman who defied her husband and the English king to crown Robert Bruce, I don't even know what you're following for.

It is unclear just when Isabella was born. There is even uncertainty over who her parents were- some sources say she was the sister of Duncan IV, Earl of Fife, others claim she was his aunt. That would mean she was either the daughter of Colban, Earl of Fife, and his wife the daughter of Alan Durward, or she was the daughter of Duncan III, Earl of Fife, and his wife Joanna de Clare, daughter of the Earl of Gloucester- the latter is generally thought more likely but it is an open debate. Perhaps we can vaguely put her birth date between 1265 and 1285, but given that both her (supposed) father and grandfather died young it is difficult to be sure. Earl Colban died in the early 1270s, while Duncan was murdered in 1289, leaving a similarly young son named Duncan as his heir. The younger Duncan would be considered a minor until after the end of the century- if Isabella was his sister, she cannot have been much older, though was certainly of age to be married before 1297. In the meantime, their uncle, known to us only as MacDuff (perhaps indicating that he was considered head of the kindred even if his nephew was earl) and apparently a brother of Earl Colban, caused some trouble over properties he believed had been left to him by his father. 

In any case, Isabella was daughter to the Earl of Fife, who, although he was not always the most politically or territorially powerful of Scotland’s magnates, was generally regarded as symbolically ranking first among them. We can safely say that Isabella counted among her ancestors such notable figures as Llywellyn the Great, Prince of Wales, Alexander II of Scotland (and thus through him she was descended from personages such as David I and St Margaret), and Adeliza of Louvain second wife to Henry I of England, whilst if she was the daughter of Joanna de Clare, she could also count among her ancestors Isabella of Angouleme (through the Lusignans) and Strongbow. Although Fife is now a firmly Lowland county- or kingdom- in the thirteenth century it still retained much of its Gaelic character, even though English was probably the main language of its bustling east coast burghs. The mormaers- later earls- of Fife, members of the Clan MacDuff, had been the chief lords in the area since the tenth century. Over more recent centuries they had acquired the “right” to a special role at the coronation of the kings of Scots- that of placing the king on the stone of Scone, as other kings might be placed on a throne. With young Earl Duncan still in his minority, a knight named John of St John was nominated to fill this role at the coronation ceremony of John Balliol in 1292. Nonetheless, the symbolic role of the earls of Fife, and their status as heads of the political community, was still highly respected.

(Some key locations and regions for the life of Isabella of Fife. The dots aren’t quite in their exact positions, because I’m not great at geography, but it’s just meant to give an idea.)

As the daughter of the Earl of Fife, Isabella was expected to make a profitable marriage and she wed John Comyn, Earl of Buchan before 1297. The Comyn family, especially the Badenoch and Buchan lines, were the most powerful baronial family in Scotland during the late thirteenth century. This was especially true north of the Forth where their lands stretched from Buchan in the east to Lochaber in the west, though they also had sizeable holdings south of the Forth and in England. They had played a leading role in Scottish politics during the reigns of Alexander II and Alexander III, and continued to do so during the uncertainty following the latter’s death. Their importance only grew in 1292, when John Balliol ascended to the Scottish throne, a man whose sister was married to John Comyn of Badenoch, and was mother to John ‘the Red’ Comyn. This meant that Isabella’s husband was not only one of the most important magnates in the realm and one of King John’s main supporters, but was also cousin to the man who was next in line for the throne should the Balliol line fail.

All this rather long-winded scene-setting aside, as we all know, John Balliol did not have a great time as king. Eventually, with Edward I becoming increasingly overbearing, and the unfortunate King John increasingly browbeaten, a council of Scottish magnates, including the Comyns, removed the power from the King of Scots’ hands. Determined not to give in to the English king’s demands, which would have been seen as confirming Scotland’s subservient position, they continued to pursue an alliance with the French. This led to the Scottish Crown’s decision to physically support the French (and perhaps also preempt an English attack) by assembling the realm’s army, and this in turn resulted in a short war in which the Scots were quickly overcome at the Battle of Dunbar. King John fled into the north-east but was later forced to surrender and was publicly stripped of his crown, while the Comyns, like the rest of the Scottish nobility, were eventually received into the English king’s peace.

(John Balliol doing homage to Edward I of England)

It was not long before trouble broke out again in Scotland, when William Wallace and Andrew Moray rose up in 1297. The Earl of Buchan was technically supposed to be keeping the peace but, like many Scottish magnates, he seems to have cautiously remained on the fence. We have no indication of his wife Isabella’s opinion during this troubled period, except a grant that allowed her to take wood from near to her husband’s Leicestershire property, which indicates she was still in the king of England’s good books and living reasonably peacefully. Her possible mother, Joanna de Clare, was not so lucky during this troubled period, and in 1299 brought charges against a Scot named Herbert de Moreham for having ambushed, abducted, and imprisoned her upon her refusal to marry him, and then having robbed her of her possessions to the tune of two thousand pounds. Meanwhile, Isabella’s brother/nephew, Duncan, became a captive in England, though he nominally retained his title. Her kinsman MacDuff, was less easily cowed, taking part in Wallace’s rebellion and leading the men of Fife against the English, though this ended with his death at the Battle of Falkirk in 1298.

Though this long (but nonetheless very generalised) explanation of the events of the 1290s is somewhat necessary to understand the context of Isabella’s lifetime, it is to the year 1306 that we must look for her real activity. In this year, Robert Bruce, Earl of Carrick, shocked the political community on both sides of the border when, in Greyfriars church in Dumfries, he stabbed John Comyn of Badenoch during what was supposed to be a peace conference. By primogeniture, and with the Balliols sidelined, Comyn had a better claim to the throne, so by murdering him Bruce had, quite ruthlessly, cleared a path to the kingship. But he had also enraged both Edward I of England and the entire Comyn family network (and their many allies) who, although hitherto as flexible with their patriotism and loyalty to the king of England as any other Scottish nobles, now found themselves firmly in the English camp as Bruce claimed the throne of Scotland. The Earl of Buchan, then in England, would have been furious at his cousin’s death, and whether Isabella of Fife was with her husband or not, she would have been well aware of the implications of Bruce’s bloody attack on her marital house, an act for which he was excommunicated.

(An artist’s depiction of Scone Abbey in c.1371- not my picture, found here)

For some reason, though, Isabella seems to have viewed the situation very differently to her husband. The previous Earl Duncan of Fife may have been loosely associated with the Bruces in the past and this might have left a mark on Isabella’s allegiances. Or perhaps she viewed Bruce as a candidate who could genuinely lead the Scots to independence, regardless of his crimes. Perhaps she simply seized an opportunity to act politically in a time where women’s opportunities were limited, or felt it was her turn to look out for the interests of her birth family while the earl of Fife was in captivity and other male members of the kindred dead. Some English chroniclers even claim she harboured romantic feelings towards Bruce, and while of course this cannot ever be proved or disproved, it perhaps says more about mediaeval chroniclers’ inability to imagine a woman taking political action for any reasons other than lust. It is similarly difficult to tell if Isabella had had any contact with the Bruce faction before the murder of Comyn of Badenoch, or if it was a spur of the moment decision. Whatever the case, she seems to have had fast horses readied in advance and was merely waiting for the right moment to take action. Upon hearing of Bruce’s decision to crown himself at Scone, she promptly quit her husband’s house and rode there herself. Intending to take the place of the captive earl of Fife, she claimed the right to fulfil the ancient duty of her house by placing King Robert on his throne.

But by the time Isabella arrived at Scone Abbey, the traditional coronation spot of Scottish kings outside the city of Perth, a coronation had already taken place. On Lady Day (25th March), at a ceremony attended by several earls and the bishops of St Andrews and Glasgow, not to mention the abbot of Scone and many other nobles and clerics, Robert Bruce had been crowned in defiance of the king of England and not two months after having blasphemously murdered the rival claimant in a church. He was by no means secure on his claimed throne, but the coronation was still an impressive display of his political and ecclesiastical support. Nevertheless, the sight of the Countess of Buchan, who must have ridden a considerable way in a very short amount of time and defied her husband to boot, and the importance of tradition- or perhaps simply Isabella’s force of character- seems to have convinced the king and his counsellors to go through with a second coronation. On the 27th of March, Robert was once again proclaimed king of Scots, and satisfied tradition when Isabella of Fife placed him on the throne in the manner of her forefathers, though the stone of Scone and the earl of Fife both remained captive in England.

(The mausoleum on the Mote hill which now stands on top of where the kings of Scots were once crowned- the investiture of Scottish kings, rather like medieval weddings, probably took place outside the abbey on the Mote hill and not inside the church itself)

Unfortunately for Isabella, the start of the new king’s “reign” did not go quite so well as his coronation. An English army was raised not long after the news of John Comyn’s murder and Bruce’s coronation reached the ears of Edward I, and in June Robert’s army was defeated at the Battle of Methven, near Perth. Forced to flee to the Western Isles, Robert decided to send his female family members away to Kildrummy Castle in Aberdeenshire. This castle was at the centre of the earldom of Mar, and King Robert’s first wife had been the earl’s sister so it probably seemed like a strong place in which they would be protected. The queen, Elizabeth de Burgh, and Robert’s daughter from his first marriage Princess Marjorie, along with at least two of the king’s sisters, were sent north in the care of his brother Neil Bruce and John de Strathbogie, the earl of Atholl. The Countess of Buchan, now firmly an adherent of the Bruce cause, was also with them. However not long after they reached Kildrummy, they must have heard that an army under the command of Edward, Prince of Wales, was heading for the castle. Leaving Neil Bruce in charge of the garrison, Atholl conveyed the queen and her ladies further north still, possibly hoping to reach the safety of Orkney and then maybe Norway, where King Robert’s sister was the dowager queen. Kildrummy Castle, meanwhile, held out only a short while before the garrison were betrayed, and Neil Bruce and others were taken south to be hanged. 

Hurrying north, the fugitives stopped for shelter in the church of St Duthac at Tain. This small chapel overlooking the windy shores of the Dornoch Firth (the long estuary separating Ross from Sutherland) was a sacred place, holding the shrine of a popular local saint, and its sanctuary extended not just to the chapel but also the surrounding area. As they huddled in its walls, the party might have been forgiven for trusting to the safety of this holy spot and the name of St Duthac. Unfortunately, this trust was to prove horribly misplaced. Uilleam, the Earl of Ross and an adherent of the Balliols whose line Bruce had usurped, was not about to let such a valuable prize sit unmolested in his own territory. Breaking the sanctuary, he had Atholl and the ladies taken prisoner, and sent them south to England. Ross would later be received into King Robert’s peace, but was obliged to make an offering for Atholl’s soul at Tain which would have important implications for the town’s growth. In 1306, however, the captured women and earl faced harsh imprisonment and worse at the hands of an enraged Edward I. 

(The ruined chapel where Isabella and many others were captured after the Earl of Ross broke sanctuary.)

(The links at Tain, Ross, looking towards Sutherland over the firth. For context purposes)

John, Earl of Atholl, like other male supporters of the Bruce claim, was to be executed by the humiliating method of hanging. Members of the English political community’s begged for mercy on his behalf, or at least for a more honourable death since Atholl was related to the English king, but Edward I’s reportedly refused, saying that his rank only meant that the earl would be hanged on a higher gallows. The queen, Elizabeth de Burgh, was the daughter of the Earl of Ulster, an important supporter of Edward, so was given a rather more lenient punishment in the form of house arrest, though she was still often short of funds and occasionally kept in filthy conditions. Christian Bruce, one of the two sisters of Robert I captured at Tain and the wife of Christopher Seton (hanged in August 1306), was likewise placed under house arrest in Sixhills nunnery in Lincolnshire. However her sister Mary Bruce, along with Isabella of Fife, faced a rather worse fate. The chronicle of Guisborough goes so far as to claim that Isabella’s husband the Earl of Buchan called for his wife’s execution, though ultimately this was not to occur. Instead Mary and Isabella were placed in “cages” in the castles of Roxburgh and Berwick respectively. The writer of ‘Flores Historiarum’ (this chronicle gives rather a colourful account of the Scottish situation so is perhaps taken with a pinch of salt) even places the following words in the mouth of Edward I, when deciding on Isabella’s punishment:

“Because she did not smite with the sword, she shall not perish by the sword. But because of the unlawful crowning which she made, let her be kept most fastly in an iron crown, made after the fashion of a little house, whereof let the breadth and length, the height and the depth, be finished in the space of eight feet; and let her be hung up for ever at Berwick under the open sky, that all they who pass may see her and know for what cause she is there.”

It’s a little bit unclear whether these cages were actually suspended outside the castles in full view of the public and open to the elements, as various chroniclers report, or if they were merely extreme security measures taken within the towers of the castles. The official instructions for the construction of Isabella’s cage included orders that the cage be constructed “in one of the turrets” of Berwick, and that she have “the convenience of a decent chamber” and be kept secure, but the imprisonment of the ladies at the Scottish castles Roxburgh and Berwick, rather than securely in England, must have had some symbolic purpose. In any case, conditions were harsh, and the women were not to be allowed to speak to anyone except their guards, and especially not other Scots. They were to remain in these cages for years. Fortunately for the young Marjorie Bruce, similar plans to imprison her in such a cage in the Tower of London were scrapped and she was put under house arrest in another Lincolnshire nunnery. Nevertheless, none of the women would see freedom for at least eight years, when most were released after the Battle of Bannockburn.

This freedom came too late for Isabella however. Living in a cage would have been a harsh life, and even harsher if the cage was actually suspended outdoors. Mary Bruce seems to have been removed from Roxburgh by 1311, being kept a prisoner in Newcastle until Bannockburn, (as Roxburgh was taken by the Scots in 1313, this move was probably due to strategy rather than mercy). Isabella was not similarly moved on that occasion and our last glimpse of her is in April of 1313, by which time the Scots had already made one attempt on the town of Berwick the previous year and had successfully captured Roxburgh and Edinburgh only a few weeks earlier. Then she was finally released from imprisonment at Berwick and placed under house arrest in the keeping of Henry de Beaumont and his wife Alice Comyn, her late husband’s niece and heiress to the earldom of Buchan. She does not appear in any prisoner exchanges post-Bannockburn however, and it is probable that she died not long afterwards (it has been theorised that the conditions of her imprisonment may have hastened her demise but this cannot be proven). In any case, she at least outlived her husband, the Earl of Buchan, who had died in 1308. There was no issue from their marriage and so the claim to the earldom passed to the earl’s nieces, one of whom was married to Henry de Beaumont (and, due to this, de Beaumont would cause quite a bit of trouble for the Bruces in later decades). Nonetheless, though we only have a small amount of information on her Isabella of Fife was clearly a woman with a backbone of steel, defiant and determined to make her mark, and well-deserves her place in the history books.

(A depiction of Mary Bruce in her cage at Roxburgh. Isabella would have been held similarly at Berwick, though I will not swear to the accuracy of these cages in the drawings)

References:

Calendar of Documents relating to Scotland preserved in the English archives

Acts of the Parliament of Scotland

Chronicle of Guisborough

Chronicle of Lanercost

Flores Historiarum

Scalachronica (by Sir Thomas Gray)

Chronica Gentis Scotorum (John of Fordun)

The Brus (John Barbour)

“Widows of War: Edward I and the Women of Scotland during the War of Independence”, by Cynthia J. Neville, in ‘Wife and Widow in Medieval England’, ed. Sue Sheridan Walker

Robert Bruce and the Community of the Realm of Scotland, by G.W.S. Barrow

The Comyns, Alan Young

The Women of the Wars of Independence in Literature and History, R.J. Goldstein

And others.

#isabella macduff #Scottish history #People #British history #women in history #Scotland #Anglo-Scottish Relations #warfare #Wars of Independence #Isabella of Fife Countess of Buchan #Buchan #Comyn family #Fife #Clan MacDuff #John Comyn Earl of Buchan #Robert the Bruce #Edward I #John de Strathbogie Earl of Atholl #Scone Abbey #stone of scone #women of independence #thirteenth century #fourteenth century #nobility #House of Bruce #John Balliol #Tain #Ross #Earl of Ross #William Earl of Ross

[operationrainfall]

Title Galaxy of Pen and Paper +1 Edition Developer Behold Studios Publisher Behold Studios, Plug In Digital Release Date April 8th, 2020 Genre RPG, Simulation Platform PC, Mobile, Nintendo Switch, PS4, Xbox One Age Rating E for Everyone 10+ – Fantasy Violence, Language Official Website

I was actually introduced to Behold Studios by the Knights of Pen and Paper games. I picked up both of them for a steal on a Steam sale years ago, and was pleasantly surprised by the clever banter and colorful aesthetic of both games. While I’ve been watching Behold bring those games to consoles in recent months, I was waiting to see if Galaxy of Pen and Paper would make the Switch. When I saw it happen back in April, I knew I had to ask for a review copy, and luckily my request was granted. The only question is how well this series devoted to tabletop RPGs translated to the Nintendo Switch.

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Part of the reason I enjoyed the earlier Pen and Paper games was because they played like streamlined Dungeons & Dragons. There’s a large part of me that’s always been interested in playing tabletop RPGs, but for various reasons haven’t been able to devote sufficient time to that hobby. So when I get a game that simplifies the complex bits, such as dice rolling and intensive character creation, and just let’s me experience it solo, I’m a happy boy. Galaxy of Pen and Paper +1 Edition takes that formula from the Knights games, and brings it to the science fiction realm. No more gargoyles and goblins, now we have alien species, robots and other assorted menaces. Thankfully, the general combat, humor and aesthetic come along with that genre transition.

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The story in Galaxy of Pen and Paper +1 Edition is split between two perspectives. One is occurring in-game, where your party plays their specific roles and the GM directs you. But there’s another narrative, focused on the turn of the new year (the game takes place in 1999) and all the potential problems that entails. I won’t go into specifics, but there’s a certain event that everybody was worried about back in those days, and it ties into both narratives in interesting ways. That said, because you’re basically directing the entire story, there’s not much in the way of character development. There’s none, really. Though I do feel your selection of class and race might affect statements given in the heat of the moment. For example, I had one party member that was a Simian, and he immediately became the dumb brute on my team. Not by my choice, mind you, though perhaps my decisions for his typing did play a role. Oh and because I’m a fan of many things, I named my entire party and ship after Mega Man characters. Cause I’m that guy.

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At the start of the game, you’re allowed to create two party members. You choose everything about them, including their class. That last part is very important, though their race can define passive abilities, such as my Green party member occasionally getting a free ability use, while my Simian would sometimes inflict spread damage on groups of enemies. What’s crucial is that you only have two characters to control for the first Episode of the game, and you’ll have limited class choices. Later on, you’ll be able to recruit two more characters and also take on quests to unlock more classes. Once that happens, the game really opens up in a wonderful way. Unfortunately, getting to that point was more than a bit of a chore. A large reason for that is early on, you can only have one ability equipped per character. What’s crazy is they come to you with a ton of ability choices, and picking just one is tough. As you level up, you’ll gradually unlock more ability slots, which is great. What’s less great is that you need to choose whether to devote those slots to active or passive abilities. Suffice to say, this made combat early on really difficult and grindy. Especially when you factor in your team and most enemies have a regenerating shield, and if you can’t do enough damage each turn to whittle it down, you’re gonna have a rough time actually inflicting damage. It’s no exaggeration that in the game’s first Episode, I constantly lost to battles with just one or two foes. And keep in mind, you’re almost always the one that’s allowed to choose the size of enemy forces arrayed against you. Thankfully, once I got through that first Episode and started to unlock more options, my adventure got easier and much more fun.

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Besides the combat, you also generate your own missions, as well as continuing the main campaign. You can only have two mission types active at the same time. What this meant was I would often take on smaller quests, such as searching for resources or hunting dangerous space criminals, to get experience and cash in between the main story beats. You generally only get a minor amount of cash, so it’s good to try the same mission again and again. Just the process of wandering around planets nets you a little experience, and you’ll occasionally come across random encounters that also offer rewards. Often these will be an item or a chance to improve your team’s reputation. I’m not entirely sure what reputation affects, but I never let it dip into the negative either. The bulk of the game is combat though, and it’s both fun and slightly lackluster. It’s standard turn-based RPG fare, with an ATB, attack selection and the like. The tricky thing is that if you’re beaten in battle, you go back to your ship’s med bay to heal up. Sometimes this will cost you, either cash or even experience points. This happened a lot early on in my adventure. I only learned later that you can return to your ship at any time to heal for free, but that wasn’t really spelled out clearly. Boss battles are a bit more interesting than the standard fare, since you don’t have any input on the size or difficulty of those encounters. There’s some really zany foes, including a pop duo, cultist praying mantis and elder deity pasta. No, you didn’t hear that last one wrong, and it’s easily my favorite boss in the entire game.

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Once Galaxy of Pen and Paper +1 Edition gets rolling, it’s tremendous fun. This is a great game to just sit and unwind with a few minutes at a time. Though my entire playthrough took some 16 hours, I was also taking my time to just enjoy the experience. It was only held back by a series of unfortunate glitches. Now to be fair, Behold Studios has already addressed one of the worst ones in a recent patch. Namely, the game didn’t showcase how much total money I had acquired. Another patch has made it so that instead of moving from one planet or node to the next, you move a cursor around like a computer mouse to both select and see your environment. Though I’m not sure that last one helped much, the currency problem was a very necessary fix. Unfortunately, there’s a host of others I’ve encountered. They’re more minor, such as planets not displaying properly in mission creation or the cursor on the ATB bar being out of sequence, but they do bring the game down a bit. I haven’t checked if these bugs are present in other versions of the game, but I do hold out hope that Behold will address them as soon as possible. Besides glitches, I also had some issues with the UI at times. Mostly just it being vague about gameplay elements. It’s nothing a tutorial or two wouldn’t fix though. And lastly, there’s some grammatical problems in bits of the dialogue, though overall it’s well written, funny and whip smart.

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Aesthetically, Galaxy of Pen and Paper +1 Edition is attractive and reminiscent of many classic games. There’s lots of use of bright colors and a variety of models for friend and foe alike. It looks like a better SNES game, and I had no complaints. Lots of creepy insectoids, arrogant aliens and eldritch monsters. Musically it’s a bit more withdrawn, but not in a bad way. There’s sufficient tunes for space exploration and battle, just nothing really memorable.

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In the end, I did have a good time with Galaxy of Pen and Paper +1 Edition. Sure it started slow and grindy, and it does still have its share of glitches, but despite that it put a smile on my face. And for only $12.49, you really can’t go wrong. I had a lot of fun playing it, and hope this isn’t the end of the Pen and Paper series. I think Behold Studios is a talented team, and expect they have a lot more stories to tell us.

[easyreview cat1title=”Overall” cat1detail=”” cat1rating=”3.5″]

Review Copy Provided by Publisher

REVIEW: Galaxy of Pen and Paper +1 Edition Title Galaxy of Pen and Paper +1 Edition

#Behold Studios #Dungeon &amp; Dragons #Galaxy of Pen and Paper +1 Edition #Plug In Digital #RPG #tabletop

[swipestream]

The Five Minute Bard: Resources to Create Sharp Concepts in No Time Flat

Image Courtesy of Pixabay “I’d like to teach the world to sing, but they’re all tone deaf.”

If your table is anything like mine, bards are primarily known for romancing their way out of combat encounters, only to have to then combat their way out of those romance encounters when plans inevitably go awry. There’s nothing wrong with that if your group enjoys following the exploits of your own personal pratfalling Mata Hari, but bards have a lot of potential to deepen gameplay in other ways. This article explores a few ways that bards can uniquely add to your game.

Musical Plot Lines

All over the world, since long before the advent of widespread literacy, song, poetry, and performance have been used to remember the history of nations and heroes; there’s no reason why in games such epics (and the rascals who know them well) can’t provide context for the rivalry between royal families, hints about the weaknesses of an ancient evil stirring after centuries of slumber, or even direct instructions as to how to make it through a trapped dungeon. Fantasy writers from J. R. R. Tolkien all the way to George R. R. Martin and N. K. Jemisin continue to use ancient stories, songs, and phrases in this way to flesh out the worlds of their novels (in particular, Jemisin’s Stone Lore could drive an entire campaign just by itself).

Songs are great for this purpose, as they can be scattered earlier in a campaign (or even a session) in the background, providing foreshadowing or clues for players without necessarily being obvious about doing so.

…[songs] can be scattered earlier in a campaign (or even a session) in the background, providing foreshadowing or clues for players without necessarily being obvious about doing so.

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For a non-fantasy example, Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson did a great job with his “Dead Man’s Chest” song. The few lines from the novel were later expanded into a poem/song by Young E. Allison, and it’s well worth listening to the whole tune if you ever need to populate a sunken pirate ship with a bunch of undead with distinct and gruesome wounds.

As much fun as Treasure Island is though, my favorite source for musical inspiration will always be the Roud Folk Song Index. This catalog of English-language folk songs has tens of thousands of entries tailor-made for the fantasy gaming table, though many of the songs have topics and language that you may not want at your table. These songs have the advantage of usually being just obscure enough for your players to not already be familiar with them, but omnipresent enough to be vaguely familiar — songs as recent and popular as “The Streets of Laredo” and “Scarborough Fair” descend directly from entries in this index.

…songs as recent and popular as “The Streets of Laredo” and “Scarborough Fair” descend directly from entries in [the Roud Folk Song Index]. 

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If you want to jump in right away, my favorite songs from the early list are “Three Ravens/Twa Corbies,” “Two Sisters/The Wind and Rain,” “Cruel Lincoln,” “The Elfin Knight,” and “The Female Highwayman.” Any one of these songs can pretty much be dropped into a campaign unchanged to add a subplot or additional character, and it’s well worth diving into them — at the end of this article are a couple of resources to help you do so if you want.

Tactical Cacophony: the Music of Battle

In most if not all tabletop games, bards are simultaneously performers and magic wielders, capable of turning the tide of battle with either their music or their spells. This role is well-supported by old legends about bards, though like most low-level bards in modern games, apparently they spent much of their time insulting rats to death.

…like most low-level bards in modern games, apparently [mythological bards] spent much of their time insulting rats to death. 

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For a more grounded approach, you can also consider bringing in more martial applications of music. Horns, fifes (single-tube pipes), drums, and bagpipe music are all well-known accompaniments to ancient battles, providing everything from marching cadence to tactical signaling. These real-world examples can be a great illustration of and justification for Bardic Inspiration and similar powers for those groups that prefer to have detailed or evocative descriptions of these powers in action.

More spectacularly, bards may have access to instruments that serve a secondary function as weapons (or vice-versa). Using real world examples, bards could be familiar with a shakuhachi or a musical bow. The shakuhachi is a nearly two-foot-long flute with a heavy, bulbous tip. Played as a form of meditation, by some accounts, this instrument could also be used as an effective bludgeoning weapon, making it easier to smuggle into areas where characters are expected to disarm.

Musical bows are either dedicated instruments or converted hunting bows that are also a stringed percussion instrument with the addition of a resonator.

Of course, if your DM is more whimsical (or forgiving), bards always have the option of a flamethrower guitar or a guitar shotgun (if your group allows the guitar shotgun, let me know if you’re looking for a player).

Extra Credit: Bringing Custom Music to the Table

Okay, to be clear, obsession with bards aside, I have all the musical and rhythmic talent of a harmonica in a clothes dryer. The last time I tried to sing in public, the guy running the karaoke turned off my mic.

…I have all the musical and rhythmic talent of a harmonica in a clothes dryer. The last time I tried to sing in public, the guy running the karaoke turned off my mic. 

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Originally, I was going to try to learn how to play the ukulele and re-do “Twa Corbies” for this article, but apparently, you can only learn that instrument in an hour if you have some minuscule fraction of ability to begin with. I have never been so disappointed in Amanda Palmer (NSFW language in video).

If you (unlike me) know one end of a musical instrument from another, doing something cool and ambitious like writing alternate lyrics to something from the Roud Folk Song Index would probably be pretty awesome. But if you can already do that, you probably wouldn’t be reading something called “The Five Minute Bard,” so let’s move on, shall we?

For those of us who don’t already have a great deal of ability, but want to come up with fun little tunes for our gaming groups, there’s something called Common Meter or Ballad Meter “tune swapping.” Songs using common meter (and there are a lot of them) use the same rhythm and rhyme patterns, meaning they can easily be swapped out for one another. This can be a fun party trick (singing Emily Dickinson’s “Because I Could Not Stop for Death” to the tune of the “Gilligan’s Island” theme is a hoot no matter how you look at it), but it also means you have a library of tunes and lyrics you can swap out with one another without any of your players realizing it. Here is an interactive example. A small selection of songs or poems in ballad meter is below:

“Greensleeves”

“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”

“I Just Can’t Wait to be King” from “The Lion King”

“The House of the Rising Sun”

“Oh, Susanna”

“Yankee Doodle”

“America the Beautiful”

“Amazing Grace”

“The Yellow Rose of Texas”

Pretty much any famous Emily Dickinson poem

The Pokemon Season 1 theme song

So with that in mind: a super quick-and-dirty (and entirely untested) method for creating music for your group:

Identify what you want to sing about.

Identify a tune you like, or a couple of them from the list above. Mash them together or hum them until you’re comfortable with the results.

Shamelessly raid the lyrics of the other songs in the list for turns of phrase you like, and shoehorn them in.

Where necessary, swap out words to hide the source of your song or create new rhymes. If you’re looking for a quick and dirty way to hide clumsy rhymes, be sure to use the word you’re trying to rhyme with as the second word, and the clumsy imperfect word as the first one. So if you’re trying to rhyme with “mockery,” but can’t think of anything to rhyme it with other than “crockery”, you would do something like “The battle raged among the crockery/until the villain lost through vicious mockery” (Thanks to Rachel F. for that hot tip).

Bask in the admiration of your gaming group. Or dodge thrown shoes, depending on your level of ability and the patience of your adventuring party.

Bards aren’t everyone’s favorite character class, but for those of us prone to a certain amount of mischief and scenery-chewing, they’re just too much fun to pass up. Hopefully some of these tools make it to your table, whether in the form of new tools for your bards to use, or in musically-themed adventures.

For those of you who play bards in your own games (or cringe at others who do), what do the bards in your home game bring to the table that no one else does? How do you make your games more musical?

Resources:

Every Folk Song: a podcast that promises to go through every song on the Roud Folk Song Index until the host gets tired of doing so — even though it only gets to song 11 (“The Baffled Knight”) it’s still a darn good podcast.

My personal Spotify playlist for the Roud Folk Song Index. This is a selection of my favorite versions of some of the first songs in the Roud Folk Song Index.

Learn to Play the Ukulele: Maybe you’ll do better than I did? Let me know your secret if you do.

Rhyming Dictionary: Because most of us can’t rhyme “the elves are attacking” without a little bit of Internet help.

The Five Minute Bard: Resources to Create Sharp Concepts in No Time Flat published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

[kayawagner]

The Five Minute Bard: Resources to Create Sharp Concepts in No Time Flat

Image Courtesy of Pixabay “I’d like to teach the world to sing, but they’re all tone deaf.”

If your table is anything like mine, bards are primarily known for romancing their way out of combat encounters, only to have to then combat their way out of those romance encounters when plans inevitably go awry. There’s nothing wrong with that if your group enjoys following the exploits of your own personal pratfalling Mata Hari, but bards have a lot of potential to deepen gameplay in other ways. This article explores a few ways that bards can uniquely add to your game.

Musical Plot Lines

All over the world, since long before the advent of widespread literacy, song, poetry, and performance have been used to remember the history of nations and heroes; there’s no reason why in games such epics (and the rascals who know them well) can’t provide context for the rivalry between royal families, hints about the weaknesses of an ancient evil stirring after centuries of slumber, or even direct instructions as to how to make it through a trapped dungeon. Fantasy writers from J. R. R. Tolkien all the way to George R. R. Martin and N. K. Jemisin continue to use ancient stories, songs, and phrases in this way to flesh out the worlds of their novels (in particular, Jemisin’s Stone Lore could drive an entire campaign just by itself).

Songs are great for this purpose, as they can be scattered earlier in a campaign (or even a session) in the background, providing foreshadowing or clues for players without necessarily being obvious about doing so.

…[songs] can be scattered earlier in a campaign (or even a session) in the background, providing foreshadowing or clues for players without necessarily being obvious about doing so.

Share8

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For a non-fantasy example, Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson did a great job with his “Dead Man’s Chest” song. The few lines from the novel were later expanded into a poem/song by Young E. Allison, and it’s well worth listening to the whole tune if you ever need to populate a sunken pirate ship with a bunch of undead with distinct and gruesome wounds.

As much fun as Treasure Island is though, my favorite source for musical inspiration will always be the Roud Folk Song Index. This catalog of English-language folk songs has tens of thousands of entries tailor-made for the fantasy gaming table, though many of the songs have topics and language that you may not want at your table. These songs have the advantage of usually being just obscure enough for your players to not already be familiar with them, but omnipresent enough to be vaguely familiar — songs as recent and popular as “The Streets of Laredo” and “Scarborough Fair” descend directly from entries in this index.

…songs as recent and popular as “The Streets of Laredo” and “Scarborough Fair” descend directly from entries in [the Roud Folk Song Index]. 

Share8

Tweet1

+11

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If you want to jump in right away, my favorite songs from the early list are “Three Ravens/Twa Corbies,” “Two Sisters/The Wind and Rain,” “Cruel Lincoln,” “The Elfin Knight,” and “The Female Highwayman.” Any one of these songs can pretty much be dropped into a campaign unchanged to add a subplot or additional character, and it’s well worth diving into them — at the end of this article are a couple of resources to help you do so if you want.

Tactical Cacophony: the Music of Battle

In most if not all tabletop games, bards are simultaneously performers and magic wielders, capable of turning the tide of battle with either their music or their spells. This role is well-supported by old legends about bards, though like most low-level bards in modern games, apparently they spent much of their time insulting rats to death.

…like most low-level bards in modern games, apparently [mythological bards] spent much of their time insulting rats to death. 

Share8

Tweet1

+11

Reddit1

Email

For a more grounded approach, you can also consider bringing in more martial applications of music. Horns, fifes (single-tube pipes), drums, and bagpipe music are all well-known accompaniments to ancient battles, providing everything from marching cadence to tactical signaling. These real-world examples can be a great illustration of and justification for Bardic Inspiration and similar powers for those groups that prefer to have detailed or evocative descriptions of these powers in action.

More spectacularly, bards may have access to instruments that serve a secondary function as weapons (or vice-versa). Using real world examples, bards could be familiar with a shakuhachi or a musical bow. The shakuhachi is a nearly two-foot-long flute with a heavy, bulbous tip. Played as a form of meditation, by some accounts, this instrument could also be used as an effective bludgeoning weapon, making it easier to smuggle into areas where characters are expected to disarm.

Musical bows are either dedicated instruments or converted hunting bows that are also a stringed percussion instrument with the addition of a resonator.

Of course, if your DM is more whimsical (or forgiving), bards always have the option of a flamethrower guitar or a guitar shotgun (if your group allows the guitar shotgun, let me know if you’re looking for a player).

Extra Credit: Bringing Custom Music to the Table

Okay, to be clear, obsession with bards aside, I have all the musical and rhythmic talent of a harmonica in a clothes dryer. The last time I tried to sing in public, the guy running the karaoke turned off my mic.

…I have all the musical and rhythmic talent of a harmonica in a clothes dryer. The last time I tried to sing in public, the guy running the karaoke turned off my mic. 

Share8

Tweet1

+11

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Originally, I was going to try to learn how to play the ukulele and re-do “Twa Corbies” for this article, but apparently, you can only learn that instrument in an hour if you have some minuscule fraction of ability to begin with. I have never been so disappointed in Amanda Palmer (NSFW language in video).

If you (unlike me) know one end of a musical instrument from another, doing something cool and ambitious like writing alternate lyrics to something from the Roud Folk Song Index would probably be pretty awesome. But if you can already do that, you probably wouldn’t be reading something called “The Five Minute Bard,” so let’s move on, shall we?

For those of us who don’t already have a great deal of ability, but want to come up with fun little tunes for our gaming groups, there’s something called Common Meter or Ballad Meter “tune swapping.” Songs using common meter (and there are a lot of them) use the same rhythm and rhyme patterns, meaning they can easily be swapped out for one another. This can be a fun party trick (singing Emily Dickinson’s “Because I Could Not Stop for Death” to the tune of the “Gilligan’s Island” theme is a hoot no matter how you look at it), but it also means you have a library of tunes and lyrics you can swap out with one another without any of your players realizing it. Here is an interactive example. A small selection of songs or poems in ballad meter is below:

“Greensleeves”

“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”

“I Just Can’t Wait to be King” from “The Lion King”

“The House of the Rising Sun”

“Oh, Susanna”

“Yankee Doodle”

“America the Beautiful”

“Amazing Grace”

“The Yellow Rose of Texas”

Pretty much any famous Emily Dickinson poem

The Pokemon Season 1 theme song

So with that in mind: a super quick-and-dirty (and entirely untested) method for creating music for your group:

Identify what you want to sing about.

Identify a tune you like, or a couple of them from the list above. Mash them together or hum them until you’re comfortable with the results.

Shamelessly raid the lyrics of the other songs in the list for turns of phrase you like, and shoehorn them in.

Where necessary, swap out words to hide the source of your song or create new rhymes. If you’re looking for a quick and dirty way to hide clumsy rhymes, be sure to use the word you’re trying to rhyme with as the second word, and the clumsy imperfect word as the first one. So if you’re trying to rhyme with “mockery,” but can’t think of anything to rhyme it with other than “crockery”, you would do something like “The battle raged among the crockery/until the villain lost through vicious mockery” (Thanks to Rachel F. for that hot tip).

Bask in the admiration of your gaming group. Or dodge thrown shoes, depending on your level of ability and the patience of your adventuring party.

Bards aren’t everyone’s favorite character class, but for those of us prone to a certain amount of mischief and scenery-chewing, they’re just too much fun to pass up. Hopefully some of these tools make it to your table, whether in the form of new tools for your bards to use, or in musically-themed adventures.

For those of you who play bards in your own games (or cringe at others who do), what do the bards in your home game bring to the table that no one else does? How do you make your games more musical?

Resources:

Every Folk Song: a podcast that promises to go through every song on the Roud Folk Song Index until the host gets tired of doing so — even though it only gets to song 11 (“The Baffled Knight”) it’s still a darn good podcast.

My personal Spotify playlist for the Roud Folk Song Index. This is a selection of my favorite versions of some of the first songs in the Roud Folk Song Index.

Learn to Play the Ukulele: Maybe you’ll do better than I did? Let me know your secret if you do.

Rhyming Dictionary: Because most of us can’t rhyme “the elves are attacking” without a little bit of Internet help.

The Five Minute Bard: Resources to Create Sharp Concepts in No Time Flat published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com