Tumgik
#posting this here as a reference note for myself since she might be a character in an upcoming fic
callsign-vulture · 3 months
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Lynn Mercer is an Electronics Technician Nuclear (ETN-SS) on a certain USN fast attack submarine. Throughout the events of Modern Warfare, the submarine Lynn is assigned to does secret squirrel stuff. Powered by candy stashes and submariner coffee, Lynn helps keep the lights on in the submarine as an operator for the nuclear reactor controls. In the odd part of the year she's not at sea, she likes to play DnD with her fellow nukes, sleep, and stock up on the latest movies.
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jellitchi · 2 months
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vat7k designs in my head...
i thought their canon designs were a eensy weensy bit Unpolished so i made these mostly for myself. erm if u rly want it i think varian is 19 here, hugo 19, nuru 18, yong 12.
i also made rhem all playlists and had to draw them a cover so thats what the last img is I linked each of em under my notes for all of em... Under the cut is Like a Huge Infodump of notes i have for each chara,,,,,,
i kept varians design basically the same, i dislike the design w the orange neck thing so i just Nuked it😭... Here's Varians playlist
Hugos design i just wanted to put him in something more Loose. hes a thief, a professional escape artist. i dont think wearing clunky metal is ideal for him. i also gave him a prosthetic arm (blond w no arm design trope!) but u cant see it in the ref so i added another drawing of him in his under layering👍 i vaguely referenced russian(?) clothes for him as well... Yeah not too much changed w him i just tried to make him slippery-er. Here's Hugo's playlist
yong came relatively easy to me, if it wasn't obvious i did rip gaming from g*nshin's hoodie. i thought the lion hood was Adorable and freaking perfect for what i had in mind for hos character. since the og notes said the fire kingdom is loosely Chinese inspired i basically just kept that. i mashed tgt a buncha diff dynasties though sorry for how inconsistent i was... i think he looks Okay. anyways i changed yongs role a bit, ill explain why im adjusting some of their roles later but i kept yong as the Jinx Type character. hes the eldest in his family and has a buncha younger siblings, hes a lion dancer and does performances w his family/siblings. he rly like special effects n keeps tryna incorporate his fireworks into their performances (it flops and he has to sew up the dmg) ill explain more of yongs role in another post maybe shrugs... Here's Yong's Playlist
miss nuru was a bit of a struggle for me i might share my full design process with her coz i did a Bunch of mockups for her😭😭😭... i didnt have a specific country of reference for her but i chose to make her vaguely south asian inspired. i also really wanted to keep the sheer fabric w the star / constellation map. i love that idea its so cute so shes still technically the navigator. but she also wields a sword too, fencing or whatever. (her and varian r Huge Cass fangirls which is probably why she started tryna use a sword (snuck out to watch cass compete) Okay ill talk abt this later) in my head, okay ill Probably make a whole nother post talking abt how im interpreting/writing each chara, but in my head i think nuru is the youngest and her kingdom's archivist. shes mostly in charge of like Her kingdoms history / artifacts / etc. ok im getting too side tracked ill save the lore dump for later but thats Nurus role in the party. Here's Nuru's Playlist
uhm below i made their character stats mostly to help me with planning / role developing. the yellow is their base stats the color behind is their end stats i guess. i was gonna explain my reasoning for their stats but ermm this post is kinda Really long so sorry😭... varian max int for obvious reasons, also max charisma just coz i feel like u kinda learn a thing or two being around a couple manipulators and spending time in jail idk shrugs... (also lets not forget the "ud b surprised what ppl would do for a cookie!") Hugo slippery guy, if a brick is thrown at him as hes running hes gonna try n run faster to shatter it, his mindset is Run Run Run! i think hes relatively agile too but yeah mostly a Speedster. i think he n varian got no Physical strength varian maybe just like A little coz Farm boy but I rly doubt quirin is making him do a Lotta heavy lifting. yong has incredible stamina and agility because hed a performer. nuru is the strongest coz this team would literally Flop without a proper Offense😭... i think varian n hugo r able to outwit plenty of their opponents but i think nuru is pretty good in a fight, same w yong. Yeah Okay Sorry for a Long Long Post thanks hope u guys enjoy
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ambrosiagourmet · 11 days
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Rin Masterpost
Rin! Rinsha Fana! Beloved side character I think about far too much (or maybe not enough?)
I decided that it might be nice to put together an informational post about Rin, since she has some of my favorite background details of any character in Dungeon Meshi. This is partly as reference for myself, and partly for anyone else who might be interested in her but not know where to chase down the tidbits we we get of her, both in canon & extra materials. There’s also a little bit of theorizing and analysis sprinkled in for fun.
If anyone spots something I missed, please let me know and I will add it in!
Alright. Time for ultimate #rinposting
History and Timeline:
We don't have an official timeline for Rin (even in the expanded Adventurer's Bible, sadly), but we can put a lot of pieces together based on Kabru's timeline & their respective ages.
Rin is 2 years older than Kabru, and they met when he was 9. Assuming that he met her soon after she was taken to the elven capital, that means that the elves took her when she was 11.
Before that, she lived on the Northern Continent. Interestingly, when Mickbell asks about Shuro, Rin says she was born "here."
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Since "here" doesn't mean the actual Island itself, it must mean simply "not the east." She is described in the Adventurer's Bible as having "no real knowledge of or attachment to the East," so maybe that's why she draws a "there" verses "here" line.
I'd also like to add a note here that the elves don't seem uh... they don't seem great about respecting the value of other cultures, especially those of short-life species. Milsiril seems to have discouraged Kabru from eating or remembering food from his hometown, at least, and that's even as an adoptive parent who cares (at least in some way) for her child. As I will touch on later, the "care" that Rin was under probably had even less respect for her history or ties to either Eastern or Northern culture.
That is all to say, considering that Rin spent many years with the elves, I'd take her having "[no] attachment to the East" as more of a comment on how she feels now, and less as a definite choice she made. She may genuinely have chosen that approach and opinion for herself, she may have been pushed towards it by the elves, and she may have had little choice at all in the matter - all are valid interpretations, though I personally lean towards the thought that it's unlikely the elves didn't have at least some hand in it.
Anyway, Rin does seem to know at least a bit about her heritage - she can presumably name and identify the specific island her parents are from, and she recognizes that "Shuro" isn't a name used there. She also knows that different places from the Eastern archipelago speak different languages, so she knows at least a little about the other islands as well.
Some additional extrapolations I'll make based on these facts: she never mentions, and probably isn't in contact with, any family from her island. This may be because her extended family died, because her parents didn't (or weren't able to) maintain contact, or because she lost contact when she was taken by the elves. Somewhat relatedly, she also prooobably doesn't speak the language, at least not fluently, though her being able to comment on the state of language in the archipelago makes me think that she at least learned a little as a kid.
Anyway, Rin's parents were refugees from the archipelago, though we don't know what specifically caused them to leave. There is this little tidbit of info we get (from the cover of chapter 48, of all places), though:
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So yeah, that seems like it would be the backdrop of Rin's parents fleeing. As I said earlier, it's unclear if Rin might have any living family left back on her island. The listing she has for “family” in the Adventurer's Bible is just a dash, but so is Izutsumi's, for instance, and we know that she was taken from her family with no knowledge of who might still be out there. It's possible everyone else was killed, it's possible they were separated... it's possible that Rin's parents didn't even know.
As an additional note, and this is speculation on my part, but I think there is an argument to be made, with this tidbit from the cover as well as the Nakamoto clan's specialty in espionage and use of ninjas, that the politics of the archipelago are partially based on Sengoku era Japan. Not necessarily super relevant here, but I think it's interesting context for all... of the archipelago characters, honestly.
(Especially considering it seems like the Nakamoto clan is in a relatively comfortable position, and yet clearly are involved, or at least prepared to be involved in larger conflict. How stable is their position, really? How is Shuro's father viewed by the wider region and archipelago as a whole? What about his lord? NOT THE POINT THIS IS A POST ABOUT RIN. BUT IT'S VERY INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT.)
Okay, back to Rin's parents.
Whatever caused them to leave, they made their way to the north, where they made their living with their magic for a time. There are no specifics about what kind of magic they used, but we know at least some examples of jobs that magic can get you, based on the flashback to Laios and Falin's childhood in chapter 26. Laios proposes that Fain could use her magic to be a priest, gravekeeper, or wandering exorcist. Though these are specific to Falin's affinity with spirits, they give some idea of the shape of the work that might be available. It's important, but it is also on the outskirts of society - not necessarily admired or appreciated by the average person.
And Rin’s parents were killed by vigilantes for that magic. It's not entirely news that superstitious villages in the area would sometimes kill magic users - we see a small drawing of people being burned at the stake in a panel towards the end of the manga:
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Nonetheless, Rin is the only person in the main cast who has experienced this brutality firsthand. And she did experience it firsthand, having been found by the elves as the sole survivor within the burnt ruins of her home.
It is unknown exactly how she survived, or what happened to her parents before and during the fire. Rin lived, and they did not.
The elves came some time after the fire, intending to investigate reports of ancient magic. They (and we) don't know if Rin's parents actually did use ancient magic, or if the reports and murders were simply spurred by general fear and superstition. Rin was the only piece of "evidence" that remained, and so she was taken back to the west with the elves when they left.
We don't know much about her time on the Northern Central Continent (where the elves/Canaries are based), but it doesn't seem like she was adopted or taken in by anyone the way that Kabru was. According to the Adventurer's Bible, after being taken into custody, "under their care she was treated as a captive animal would be." I would guess that means very basic food and shelter, little to no education. Probably the most social contact she got was from Kabru, as well as maybe, occasionally, from elves treating her as a curiosity, such as in this bit in the Adventurer’s Bible:
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Assuming she left with Kabru (which seems like it is the case, there's no info about them having separated during that time), she spent 9 years with the elves, and has been with Kabru on the Island in the 4 years since then.
She also stays in the Golden Country after the end of the story, apparently working as an alchemist.
Additional Details (& Speculation):
What does she remember of her family and home?
I'd like to take a moment here to explore a little of what Rin might remember of her parents and home.
For reference, we can look at Kabru. The canaries came to Utaya when Kabru was 6, and he arrived in the capital when he was 7. He remembers the events of the tragedy in his home, and has some memories of his mother and life in Utaya, including memories of local dishes.
Rin lost her parents and home at 11, so she presumably has much clearer memories of the events that lead to her being taken by the elves... or she might, assuming that they haven't been completely blocked by her trauma from the event.
Yeah, I am fairly damn sure that she's got some memory issues from trauma and PTSD. For one, this is the state she was found in:
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As already mentioned, she was also treated like something of an animal by the elves. She probably didn't have a lot of contact with other people, which would further perpetuate that sense of isolation and dehumanization. What I'm getting at here is that Rin probably didn't have much to help pull her out of this place, or heal these wounds. She had Kabru, who was also a kid and even younger than her, and she had herself.
Obviously trauma leaves different scars on everyone, and everyone responds and copes in different ways. But I do think it is interesting that we never hear anything about Rin's parents or life before the elves, and there are no real details about it given in the Adventurer's Bible the way we have for Kabru. What's presented is more surface level facts: they were refugees, they made a living with magic, they were killed.
I'm inclined to believe that things are laid out this way because that's how Rin holds on to these things. She knows things about them, but possibly remembers them more as things she was told/knows to be true, rather than actual memories she can picture herself experiencing.
Rin's Magic
In an interesting counterpoint to her potentially spotty memory, I do actually think Rin may have learned magic from her parents (or started learning, and was self-taught from there). She never attended a magic academy, and actually has a bit of grudge against people who did - owing to the social protection afforded to "upper-class mages," which her parents did not have. She also almost certainly wouldn't have been taught by the elves, who not only treated her as an animal but also knew her parents may have been involved with ancient magic.
Falin began to show signs of magical talent at 8, and was sent to the Magic Academy at 10, and that was as someone who had absolutely no guidance about or exposure to magic in her home town. Raised by two mage parents, I think Rin absolutely could have been learning some things by the time she was 11.
In terms of continued learning, I'll add that Rin is able to identify Marcille's magic as being A) from an Academy student, and B) cast by an elf:
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This makes me think that she continued to study magic on her own while held by the elves, and probably even more so after leaving with Kabru. They didn't form the party until two years after they left the elves, which would give Rin plenty of time to try and learn from other adventurers on the Island, or to study up on her own. She'd probably be able to pick up some dungeon-crawling basics (like the water walk spell), as well as become familiar with the skill level and expression of skill common in different people with different backgrounds (hence why she is able to comment on the "textbook" academy wards).
Much like Marcille, Rin also seems to rely on a 'one size fits all' Big Boom method of dealing with monsters: lightning. We see the best example of its power in the fight with Chimera Falin:
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But we also see her cast it pretty recklessly in a few other places, including the end credits of the new anime ED, which I think provides a good example of the downsides to such an approach...
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Yeah, it is very much a 'get out of the way or get zapped' spell.
Especially since Marcille's offensive magic is self-taught and works very similarly, this definitely reinforces the idea that Rin figured most of this stuff out herself.
Outfit and Character Design
Dear sweet Rin of the Red And Black... how I love her design.
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First of all, her clothes are damaged. Despite the fact that Rin looks relatively well put together overall, her outfit is worn out. I have some theories on why this is that I'll get to in a bit, but for now I'll just touch on what this design communicates in general about it.
I think, just like with Kabru's horribly messy room, it creates a sense that there is something more complicated underneath the surface. Something that isn't being addressed or seen to, just as the dress hasn't been mended or replaced.
It also reflects her not caring a ton about her appearance. She's neat, but she's not concerned about being pretty, so she doesn't bother with fixing up her outfit after her dungeon crawls. This also fits with her perpetual scowl (which I will talk more about in a bit), and slightly disheveled hair.
Next: the gloves. At first I thought they might be a sort of uncomfortable-with-touch thing, but after skimming through the manga and some bonus content, I have another theory. Rin takes the gloves off to eat, as well as a few other instances, such as when working on a spell with Holm and Marcille in chapter 36
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This one is especially interesting because she has them on in the next chapter, during the fight with Falin. Since she also isn't wearing gloves during some of the Daydream Hour art of her outside of the dungeon, that leads me to believe that they are specifically for combat.
What does she need them for, though? Most other casters we see don't wear gloves. Well... just look at the other half of the page where she attacks Falin with lightning:
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She is enveloped by this spell. I said it before was pretty reckless magic, but maybe its not just a problem for her teammates, but for her as well.
So here's my theory: maybe the gloves are rubber, or some other electricity-resistant material? They might help protect her from her own magic. I don't know why a caster would need gloves for combat otherwise.
I also think this might be why her dress is tattered at the bottom, by the way. Especially since the Daydream Hour genderswap design doesn't have a similar problem with his outfit, since the tunic isn't as long.
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I will admit this is a bit of stretch/guess, but I think it's a fun one, and I wanted to share. I do think I'm right about the gloves being for dungeons/fighting specifically, at least. That seems pretty consistent throughout all of her appearances.
I also mentioned her scowl, so I'll touch on that briefly as well. The (fairly confirmed) explanation for Rin's expression is that she intentionally wears a frown to prevent her other expressions from showing through. I think it's important to emphasize that it's not just smiling that she is trying to suppress here - it's any strong emotion:
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Anyway, because I can, here is the art of Rin smiling.
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Rin and Kabru
I have talked a bit about Rin and Kabru's history, but I think it deserves its own section.
I think it's very interesting that Rin is pretty much the ONLY character in all of Dungeon Meshi that has explicit canonical romantic interesting in someone. It's literally part of the main summary sentence in her character profile.
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This could be sort of reductive as a way to describe a female character (and in some ways it still is), but I think in part the simplicity and directness of it actually is part of what makes it so interesting. Especially when on the very next page we see the comic about her backstory. "This mage is in love with Kabru" -> one page of a horribly traumatic event and a child frozen in shock with no one to comfort her. What does that do?
Well, in my opinion, it shows how much Rin focuses on Kabru as something to keep her in the present. In contrast with the immense loss she has experienced, her love for Kabru is current and alive. He has presumably been her anchor for years, and I think that her love is part of that anchor.
Adding to this, in contrast with how explicit her feelings are, she never seems to actively pursue Kabru. She complains about his potential interest in other women, but she doesn't really flirt. She doesn't let herself smile around him any more than anyone else, and she doesn't hide her bitterness or anger from him to present a more appealing persona.
As much as she craves Kabru's attention, and has stayed by his side for years, I don't know that she really wants to possess him. He seems to know about her feelings, more or less, and she seems to know that he knows. Maybe she believes he doesn't reciprocate and is respecting that, maybe she's afraid of what she could lose if she tried to change things, or maybe the change itself frightens her. In any case, though she's not exactly happy with the way things are between them, she doesn't seem to be trying to change that status quo.
A specific thing I'd also like to talk about with their relationship, beyond Rin's love for him, is her fear for him. As the Adventurer's Bible puts it, "she worries that his knack for dealing with whatever life throws at him might lead him to get too full of himself and end up in serious trouble."
Rin is an interesting mix of restrained and explosive, herself. Her magic is destructive, her temper seems to run hot (she gets annoyed easily, at least), and her feelings for Kabru are apparent. At the same time, she doesn't let her emotions show on her face, she is the one who bluntly states that the group has hit the limit of their abilities, and she doesn't act on those obvious feelings for Kabru. It's interesting, then, that what she fears for Kabru is that he won't restrain himself.
And a small personal idea about that as well: I wonder if she somewhat blames her parents for getting killed. Again, this is very speculative, but I think it's interesting that her fear for Kabru is that he will get too full of himself. Take up too much space. It's never really stated what Rin thinks of her parents, but it can be easy in grief to search for control, and control often means blame. If they hadn't been so confident, so flashy, would they still be alive...?
I don't know if she's ever thought like that, and it could well be that her fears for Kabru come from a totally different place. But it's an interesting connective thread between her past and present - the idea of "getting in trouble" for taking up too much space and being too confident in one's own abilities.
Miscellaneous Tidbits:
On that note, I'd like to wrap up the main part of this post, and move on to a few extra things that I couldn't find another place for.
Rin plays with her hair when she's stressed
Using stressed as a pretty big umbrella here, because I think it's hard to perfectly pin down all the emotions at play, but it is a habit of hers. Best displayed in chapter 32, but it shows up in other places, too.
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Her design contrasts with Marcille
This is a small thing, but I just love how much they are visual opposites.
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Rin wears red and black and has dark hair, Marcille wears blue and white and has light hair. Marcille cares a great deal for her hair and puts it up in elaborate hairstyles, and Rin's is mostly loose and a bit messy. Marcille was even educated at the Magic Academy, which Rin dislikes. They both have little capelets. Also they both look very cute in each other's clothes.
Rin knows Flamela (and they meet again in canon)
Nothing much is done with this in canon, but I think it’s super interesting that Flamela's squad are the ones that find Rin as a child and take her away to the west, and then they end up stuck in the dungeon together for a bit.
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Two days??? I'm so very curious what things were like between these three.
Aaaand I think that's all I have to say about Rin! For the time being at least. There's a lot more analysis that could be done about her and Kabru especially, but for this post I wanted to keep things at least somewhat anchored to canon facts, with only a layer or two of speculation on top.
If it isn't already obvious, I think Rin is a super interesting character with a ton of potential depth to explore. She mostly interacts with Kabru in canon, but has ties to a bunch of other characters: she and Marcille fill similar roles in their parties but have differing personalities and histories, she and Falin (and Laios) have been tremendously shaped by xenophobia and fear of magic common in the Northern Continent, her parents fled from conflict in the same region Shuro and his retainers are from, and she has history with Flamela and some of the second canary squad.
Her temper, her fear, her love... her repression and passion - they all inform her character, even in small ways, even with as little time as she spends on the page.
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yamujiburo · 11 months
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✨YAMUJIBURO F.A.Q.✨
Should've made this a while ago! I'm starting to get a lot of the same questions in my inbox nowadays tho and I feel bad for clogging up y'all's timelines with the same questions haha
GENERAL QUESTIONS
Who are you?
I'm Kiana, I'm a queer, Japanese Jamaican woman, and a Director/Storyboard artist at Disney Television Animation.
What are your pronouns
I usually go by she/her but I don't really mind any pronouns~
Where did you go to school?
California College of the Arts (but I dropped out when I was hired at Disney)
How did you get hired at Disney?
My bosses found me on twitter through my Team Rocket fanart. They liked my drawing style and asked if I wanted to take a storyboard test. I did, I passed, I got interviewed and moved to LA two weeks later to start storyboarding.
Is this a repost blog??
No, you might know be better as @kianamaiart. This is just my Pokémon sideblog where I post exclusively (for the most part) Team Rocket and Pokémon art.
What does your username mean?
It's a combination of the main 4 Team Rocket members' Japanese names: Yamato (cassidy), Musashi (jessie), Kojiro (james), Kosaburo (butch)
What program and brush do you use to draw?
Default brush in Storyboard pro
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GENERAL POKEMON QUESTIONS
Who's your favorite Pokémon?
What are your favorite ships?
Any ship with Jessie. Yamushipping, Rocketshipping and Hanamusashipping are my top three!
Who do you ship Ash with?
I was a big Pokéshipper when I was younger but nowadays don't really feel strongly about any of the ships involving the kid characters. I'm also in the "Ash is aroace" camp.
Do you have any trans headcanons?
You can find em here along with other headcanons! It should be noted that I don't usually marry myself to one hc (unless it's for a specific AU I'm trying to build out) and love seeing various interpretations of a character! Trans woman Jessie, Trans woman James, Trans man James, Genderfluid Jessie, give em to me!
Do you play the games?
I've played all the mainline Pokémon games and very much enjoy them! But I am much more invested in the anime and the characters in the anime.
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HANAMUSA AU QUESTIONS
Where can I read all the comics in order?
Here! I update anytime I make a new comic and list them in chronological order (since I just draw comics at random points in the timeline as they interest me). This post also already answers some of the frequently asked questions about this AU like: How did Jessie and Delia meet? What are James and Meowth up to? How old are Jessie and Delia? etc.
What does "Hanamusa" mean?
Hanamusa is a combination of Delia and Jessie's Japanese names, Hanako and Musashi respectively.
When does this AU take place?
It takes place sometime after the Mezase Pokémon Master/To Be a Pokémon Master series. So all the events that happened in the series, unless retconned within the series, happened. Ash is 10 at the start of the comics.
What's the status between Jessie, James, Meowth and Giovanni/Team Rocket?
Not great terms since they were fired, but also not the worst terms. Giovanni just let the three of them go without any further issues. I will say that I've always loved the theory that Giovanni keeps Jessie specifically around because of her parentage and he as a soft spot for her that he keeps a secret. I feel like Matori was the one that got the three of them fired and Giovanni wasn't able to make an excuse for them this time (without showing nepotism/special treatment) so he was forced to let them go.
If you headcanon Delia as a lesbian, how did Ash come to be?
Delia was young when she had Ash and I hc that she just didn’t really explore her sexuality much! I myself didn’t realized I liked women until I was 18 and didn’t know I liked ONLY women until like 2 years ago. She got married, had a baby and realized after her husband left that she liked women (trans people exist obviously but I’m also interpreting Ash’s father as a cis man).
Who do you think Ash’s dad is?
I don’t know and I don’t really care to explore it. I’m going off of the novel interpretation that he’s just a deadbeat that left to be a trainer, failed and never came back because of the shame. He’s not important.
Isn’t Giovanni Ash’s dad?
That’s a common misconception that people remember wrong from the Pokémon Live show. Delia mentions she dated Giovanni but then left him and his gang after meeting Ash’s father. I also don’t consider the live show canon personally! I follow The Birth of Mewtwo timeline where Madame Boss founded Team Rocket.
Do you think Delia and Giovanni dated at least?
Nah, I think he’s too old for her? I always got the vibe from The Birth of Mewtwo that he was quite a bit older than Jessie and it’d be sus if he was dating Delia when she was married to, and had a child with her husband at 18/19. He’s a bad guy but not a BAD guy.
You mentioned you still ship Jessie and James. Why not make a Jessie, James, Delia polycule?
I have a few reasons I’ve mentioned before! 1. I’m in super deep with this AU already and I feel it’d be very confusing for casual viewers of my stuff if James was added into the relationship haha. 2. I’ve drawn Jessie and James together since 2011 and took this AU as an opportunity to try my hand at writing them as queer, platonic besties bc I love that interpretation of them a lot as well. 3. I’m not poly myself and the way I write this ship is largely based off of my experiences with my girlfriend. I just know I’d favor the Jessie/Delia of it all which isn’t fair and not a good interpretation of a poly relationship. All that said, I DO super enjoy seeing peoples’ poly headcanons and art!
Who does James end up with in this AU?
No one. He's aroace and is happy to be single
Do Jessie and James have all their Pokémon in this AU
I think they have all the Pokémon that they did by the end of Mezase Pokémon Master (all their Pokémon that were left at HQ). Most of their released Pokémon have stayed released and the Alola Pokémon are still in Alola. I bring back Arbok and Weezing post-Jessie and Delia getting married. I may bring back Chimecho, Growlie and Cacnea if I think of an idea I like!
What are Meowth and James up to in this AU?
Hop back to the top of this post under the "Where to Start" section. All your questions will be answered.
Does Ash travel with anyone at this point of his life?
I don't have anyone in particular in mind! I could see him making new friends (Nemona???) or traveling with different combinations of old friends. Like him, Misty and Goh, him, Dawn and Cilan, him, Serena and Lillie etc.
Will Delia ever get over her phobia of snake Pokémon
Not fully! I think overcoming fears is fine and good but I think real PHOBIAS are much harder to get past and I don't want to cheapen it. She slowly gets used to Jessie's Seviper specifically and gets to the point where she can pet it comfortably with Jessie in the room. But otherwise, still scared and would need that same amount of time per Pokémon
Is Jessie gaining weight or is it just me?
Not just you! Jessie puts on a bit of relationship weight overtime as you'll see in the later comics in the timeline. Jessie grew in poverty, never knowing when her next meal would be and that continued into her life as a Team Rocket member. Once she was able to settle down (with a woman who runs her own restaurant no less) she's able to live a healthier lifestyle with regular meals and puts on some weight because of that.
Does Jessie ever feel self conscious about gaining weight?
Nope! She feels happier and healthier and hotter. She's also unreasonably excited to clear out her old clothes and get a new wardrobe.
Would Jessie and Delia ever have kids together or adopt?
Nah, Ash is enough for them! I have come up with hypothetical kids for them but they're not canon to this AU. Just a fun little thing for me.
Will you ever put this on webtoon?
Nah. People mostly ask me this because they want to read everything in the order of the timeline but to my knowledge, you can’t reorder chapters or installments which would defeat the purpose. I also don’t think nintendo fan stuff would fly there. Also, also it’s just extra work and another place to upload and I want to keep this all fun for myself~
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genderlessdude92 · 7 days
Text
HEAVENLY DRINKS
CHAPTER 2
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PAIRINGS: Alastor x F!Reader
SUMMARY: In this chapter, the protagonist finds themselves in a confrontation with Alastor, known as the Radio Demon. Vox, another character, intervenes, leading to a tense exchange. Later, the protagonist returns home, reflecting on their fame and current situation. Alastor is just annoying.
WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Mature Content, Sensitivity, Alcohol use, like HEAVY, (It was noted in the intro that reader is an alcoholic but gets better throughout the story), Verbal Altercations, Implied Violence, Character Behavior, Sexual References, News Media, Emotional Turmoil, Cliffhanger.
NOTICE: please don't steal/copy/translate my work. But thanks for liking it, though!! ^^ Posting chapter every friday but this one is early! Asks are always open, but i can’t get to all of them at the same exact time so if yours is answered right away…You might be lucky 🙏
WORDS: 2.9k
HEAVENLY DRINKS MASTERLIST
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The waitress squeaked out of fear and ran to Lucifer knows where, clearing the space of view between you two.
‘Fuckin’ wimp.” You thought.
“No manners these days, am i wrong?” The deer said, turning his head to face yours.
You snapped out of your trance, “Uh…I was doing just fine my myself.”
“I could tell.” he smirked, “You must be pretty desperate to drink every single type of liquor in here.”
You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”
“Well,” he replied, “For starters, you were naming those liquors from the top of your head like the songs in your albums..”
You only blinked.
“Secondly, you’re dressed like a prostitute. Thirdly, you’re not even wearing a bra,” He cleared his throat, “Fo-”
“What gives you the fuckin’ right to call me out like that?!” You argue, “Do you know who I am, fuckin’ asshat?!”
Alastor’s demeanor shifted more eerie, along with the lights in the establishment, “Do you know who I am?” He retorted, “I think somebody needs a quick lesson since they’ve missed some classes, shall we?” He asked, sizing up his form.
You snarled, “You cocky…”
“What the fuck is going on here?!” A loud voice yelled from the entrance.
Both of your heads turned to meet a vision on Vox standing at the entrance, clearly fuming.
“…Why the fuck-“ He points his claw to you, “are you doing he-“ He then snaps his like of view to Alastor, “I-what the fuck?!”
You started to laugh like a child, only now you were a drunk-full-grown-not-mentally-stable-and-not-currently-alive-adult.
Until Alastor slapped you on the back of your head to stop.
“My office, now!”
***
Vox’s office was dimly lit, with soft jazz music playing in the background. The walls were adorned with paintings of various musicians, and shelves lined with books and trophies. A large desk dominated the room, with a sleek computer monitor and stacks of papers piled high on its surface.
Alastor sat across from Vox, observing the scene before him. He seemed to find this situation amusing for some reason.
But you certainly didn’t.
This was not how you wanted your first day out to go.
“What do you want from me?” Alastor asked, his tone casual. “I’m already banned from this fine establishment, am i not?” He chortled.
“That’s the fuckin’ problem,” He slammed his fist on the desk, “I don’t even know why i bothered to bring you in here.” He growled.
Vox then shifted his eyes to you, “-and you.” he added, “You shouldn’t even be showing your face here. do you know how mad i am at you?!” He yelled in your face sparks igniting in his antennas.
“…What.” You gave him a droopy smile.
He groaned, “How much drinks did she have, fuckin’ hell-“
“-34, my good sir.” Alastor intervened.
You chuckled, “No, i had like, 4 shots.”
“Well, you must be mistaken, because i counted 34 drinks.” Alastor corrected, bending his neck slightly.
“Wh-hold on, why were you watch-“
“Enough! That is not what we are talking about.” Vox yelled, standing up from his seat to show authority.
After a surprising moment of silence, he continued, “Y/N, You literally vanished from sight a day before we had a massive show planned at my convention center,” Vox answered, sitting back down, “I know you weren’t told that you aren’t welcome here, but you aren’t and it should be obvious.”
You stayed silent for a moment, getting sober by the second. How long ago was that?
“…Sorry.” You crossed your arms.
“Now you see how none of you are allowed here?” He folded his hands on his desk, looking down and sighing in stress.
“…Yeah, yeah.” You said.
***
Walking out of the building, you jumped slightly when you felt a claw on your shoulder.
“You really don’t remember who I am, little lady?” Alastor said, turning your shoulders to face him.
You looked up slowly, relaxing the alcohol in your body, “No, i know you. Just thought it was funny.” You put a hand on your hip. “You used to put my songs in your broadcast in intermissions, if i remember correctly”
He laughed, “My highest point of listeners.” He grinned.
“I don’t remember much, though,” You admitted, scratching your cheek. “Kinda what i was wanting las’ couple of years.”
“I’d imagine.” He replied, “Drinking every night for forty years isn’t healthy, even for someone like you.” He scoffed, still
plastering the same grin on his face.
“wh- ‘someone like me?’” You questioned.
He sighed, “Look, i know you haven’t been seen for a while, but that doesn’t mean that we forgot about you, if that’s what you’ve been wanting.” He clarified, “You’re a well known woman, but you’ve had…issues since you were alive.”
“good way to bring down the mood,” You scoffed, “i thought we were just getting along, y’know?”
He laughed, “That would be a headline, for sure.”
You tilted your head in confusion, “You’re weird.”
“You’re drunk.” He claimed back.
You growled, about to bite back, but he cut you off, “It seems our time here is up,” He said, now looking at his watch (that clearly does not exist) on his wrist, “My radio show starts in little over ten minutes. Ta-Ta!” He waved goodbye, walking past you.
You began to walk over to him, to give some piece of mind to him, but he then materialized into the shadow.
“Piece of trash…” You muttered, beginning to walk away from the building.
***
As you unlocked the door to your manor, you can’t help but wonder why, after all these years, people still remembered you?
You stepped inside, kicking your heels off.
That was the whole point in rotting in this trash bin, anyways. You couldn’t have all this fame, it wasn’t ethical.
You tossed your fur coat into the laundry room.
And on top of that, you were banned from one of your favorite places. who the fuck does that? He’s just jealous-
You plopped your body onto the plush couch, not bothering about the feeling of your dress riding up your thighs, as you would’ve.
“-yeah, jealous,” You said aloud, “He’s a fucking television, I’m full bodied. I’m a legend and he’s just a piece of trash.”
you scavenged around the coffe table’s under-cabinets until you found a half empty bottle of wine-
…and let’s not forget that stupid deer.
“After all the fucking fame i probably got him, he just treats me like imp-shit. I was just tryna be friendly, start a little fake fight, but noooo-“
You took a large swig of your bottle.
“He just had to get me in trouble, embarrass me, and walk away as if nothing fucking happened.”
You sighed.
You looked at the bottle that was now empty.
…And think if… you did this to yourself?
“…Nah.”
You take off your jewelry, take off your clothes until you were in a bra and panties, and sprawl yourself on your couch, reaching for the remote and turning on your television.
“He’s probably getting… bullied on the news or somethin’.” You muttered to yourself, laughing softly.
Swapping through news networks-
…Oh fuck.
“Famous singer and dancer star from back in the day, Y/N (or stage name idk), Has returned to the bustling streets of the pentagram after 40 fucking years of an absence!” Katie said clenching her script sheet in hand with a shit-eating smile on her face.
You always felt bad for that other guy next to her…
-That’s not the point.
“…apparently, she got into a little fight with the infamous Radio Demon we all know and hate, Alastor! Talk about the conversation of a 40 years!” She added as a laughing track played.
You cringed, “Fuckin’ bitch.”
“But that’s not all! Apparently, this has caused quite the uproar among the fans of the two. Some are worried that our beloved star may never return to performing again, and is just scavenging for some drinks and dicks! While others are ecstatic that she has finally reappeared after such a long time.”
“…Fucking hell, m’ not dealing with this.”
“In other news-”
You turned off the tv, tossing your remote onto the floor.
“Her boobs are so fuckin’ fake, I hate that bitch.” You ranted, Stretching your back and staring at the ceiling.
“…Let’s see, ok…I’m out of books to read.” You noted, “…No more alcohol in this stupid jail cell of a shit hole…” You noted as well, “…and I’m all over the news now…”
After a moment of contemplating life, you sit up again and go to your room.
“I should go to another bar…a really expensive one…” You muttered, immediately rummaging through your closet.
“…I have a lot of money anyways…” You grinned, “Probably more than that stupid dear. I could probably hunt him and eat him…it would taste…” You looked down to your naked body for a moment, thinking, “…like…if it were medium rare, really good…”
“-What was that?” a static voice asked from across the walk-in closet.
“What the fuck?!-“ You turned around, covering your boobs, “How the fuck did you get into my house, pervert?!”
“I’m sorry, dear. But I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Alastor said, crossing his arms, “And for the record, I’m far from a pervert.” He said, squinting his eyes.
“How the fuck did you get in here?!” You demanded.
“Well, you see-“
“No, no. No explanations. Get the fuck out of my house, perverted demon!” You yelled, throwing a shoe at him.
He caught it without effort and stared at you with his red eyes, “Excuse me? You…just asked me why I was-“
You narrowed your eyes, “Oh my gosh, you are so annoying, i can do see how Vox hates you now…” You groan, looking for a robe.
“…You know,” he began as you continued to search, “There’s a saying that goes along the lines of, ‘Drunk men say wise words’ I believe?” He questioned aloud to himself, “…I don’t think that goes for women.”
As you tied a robe around your waist you put your hands on your hips and looked at him. “What are you doing here.” You asked.
“…” Alastor waited silently.
“…Like…actually.” You clarified.
Alastor nodded, “I came to make sure you were alright.” He said simply, “You were rather intoxicated earlier today.”
“…”
“…And you were also not wearing anything under the dress, it kept slipping off.” He added, adding an awkward laugh to it.
“…”
“…So, naturally, I was concerned for your safety.” He finished.
“…”
“…Was it something I said?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“…”
“…Or maybe it was the fact that you threw your shoes at me.” He stated bluntly.
“…Wait- why would it be about the shoes?”
Alastor smiled, “Never mind, it sounds much nicer in here when it’s down one voice.”
You scoffed, “What the fuck is your problem? didn’t you come over here to check in on me?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
You rolled your eyes, “Then why are you acting like an ass all the sudden.”
“Actually…” He pondered for a moment, “…I was hoping you would… join me for dinner.” He replied casually.
You raised a brow, “Dinner?”, You said flatly, crossing your arms.
“Yes,” Alastor confirmed. “I’ve…prepared a special meal for us to enjoy together.”
“…That’s so mean.”
“…What…what do you mean?-“
“You’re just tryna get me to not go to a fuckin’ bar.”
He laughed blandly, “You are very wise, my lady.” He claimed, “But, may i remind you that a free dinner cost less than putting another 34 drinks onto your tab?”
You looked at him confused, but then realized something that disgusted you, “Are you gonna feed me cannibal food?”
He laughed, “For you, I’m sure it’s your favorite meal, but for me, yes, it is a cannibal meal.”
“…What-“
“Medium rare deer?”
You gasped, “Stalker! I fuckin’ knew it!” You claimed, getting another shoe from the ground and getting ready to throw it.
“Don’t!-“ He grabbed the shoe from your drunken-soft grip, “-you dare.”
“…Just don’t go to the bar,” He sighed as if taking care of a toddler, “I’m doing you a favor.”
“-And why would the Radio Demon care?”
“…It’s not pity,” he began, “…I just get second hand embarrassment seeing you drunk.” He grimaced.
“Nah, you just want me and not want anybody else to check me out.” You grinned, turning around to rummage through clothes again.
“Excuse me?” He said, offended, “I don’t view you that way whatsoever.”
“It’s okay, I worked hard for my glutes.” You slugged out a laugh, “Plastic balls wouldn’t look good in my skin.”
Alastor let his disgust cease for a moment before sighing, “I’m leaving. But,” He pulled out a pen from out of nowhere and wrote something down on a piece of paper, that also appeared out of nowhere, and handed it to you when done. “-If you ever need anything. You know, since you’re so vulnerable outside right now, I’ll be at this location.”
‘Hazbin Hotel, Morningstar District.’ It read.
“I’m not vulnerable, I’m just really hot and everybody wants me.”
“…Ugh, okay,” Alastor said to himself, “I’m out. Goodbye, Y/N. Until we meet again.”
And he was gone with the shadows.
You sighed, “Probably still watching me.”, you said aloud, pulling out a black silk dress from the mountainous pile on clothes beneath you.
***
You awoke in the morning to a pounding headache.
You groaned, rubbing your temples as you sat up and opened your eyes.
Your gaze fell upon the empty bottles of liquor strewn across the room and a wave of regret washed over you.
“…At least I decided to buy more.” You said to yourself, sitting up as you yawned and stretched.
Your eyes drifted towards the nightstand next to the bed and saw a glass of water and some painkillers.
You smiled softly, thankful for the kind gesture your past self gave you.
You popped the pills in your mouth and drank the entire glass, feeling slightly better after the medicine kicked in.
You looked at the clock on your wall, seeing that it was only 7 am.
Sighing, you get out of bed, ignoring the fact that your entire outfit from last night was still on (including the heels), You stalked your way over the kitchen to make some hangover stew
After a few minutes of chopping, mixing, and boiling, you finally had a bowl of hangover soup in front of you.
You took a bite and moaned.
It tasted delicious, as usual from your cooking.
And decided to turn the TV on.
Which was a bad idea.
Many news channels reporting on the Pride Ring were showing pictures of you and Alastor at the bar and outside the building-
“Could this be the relationship of the century or a big fluke?” The news reporter asked the audience-
Switch.
“-Another soul for Alastor to collect? Find out more after-“
Switch.
“-Personally, I wouldn’t date her if i was him, yeah?” The television guest claimed to the news reporter now on screen.
…what?
“I mean, look at her. Her boobs are flat and her ass looks fake. I mean, she could’ve at least had some surgery happen in those 40 years or bought some pads for bras.” He added, making the reporter laugh-
Click. Off.
You slammed the remote down and groaned.
You had just gotten out of a 40-year-long-hangover and now the world wants to talk shit about your body?
And you?
Great.
This was a great start to the day.
You got up, grabbing a bottle of wine from the table and taking a swig, feeling the burning sensation in your throat and the dizziness in your brain.
“…What am i doing to myself.” You said, looking at the bottle.
“…I should go to town and find a fuckin’ news reporter,” You claimed, placing the wine on the coffee table, “Fuckin’ rumors spreadin’ like that guy’s ass…” You trotted to your room to find an outfit.
You stopped, looking at your outfit from last Night, “…or jus’ fix my makeup.”
***
Strutting into the heart of Pentagram City, this was probably your first time appreciating how much eyes were on you and those…’phones.’ (which you found out the name from the television.)
You walked with confidence, but also with a little bit of embarrassment.
But mostly confidence.
You looked around, taking in the sights of the bustling city and the sounds of people chatting and laughing and yelling.
Alastor submerged from the shadows next to you, walking by your side.
“Enjoying the outside, my fellow homebody?” He asked with a grin.
“Not now, Alastor.” You said, scanning the area.
“Now, What’s gotten you so worked up with smarts?” He asked like a babysitter, “Haven’t seen you this focused since…never!” He laughed.
You scoffed, “Some guy dared to insult me on live television.” You answered, “Called me flat on my Himalaya’s.”
“…Your what’s?” He asked.
“My boobs, Alastor… they’re not that flat are they?”
I’m not answering that question.” He announced.
You pouted.
“Think of the headlines, dear.”
“…Yeah, you’re right.” You shrugged.
“So,” Alastor started, “Anything i could do to help?” He asked, clenching his cane in curiosity.
“…I needa find a popular News station. So i can announce my…opinions n’ stuff.” You said, “a popular one around these parts.”
Alastor thinked for a moment, “…Ever suggested to yourself…Vox 2 Nite?”
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NOTES: CHAPTER TWO IS OUT AND EARLY?! Guys the Alastor x Reader tumblr community is dead rn I need people to like RISE FROM THE DEAD and get their friends who also thrive here like…do their job??? Show support??? Requests??? NOTES??? COMMENTS??? ahem, Anyways, I’m proud of this chapter, It’s gonna get better though, there is spicy material coming, but you guys just have to be patient <3, support is appreciated, Love you guys!!!
-Genderlessdude92, Kiki!
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HEAVENLY DRINKS MASTERLIST
OTHER WORKS
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TAGLIST:
@martinys-world
@sirens-and-moonflowers
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COMMENT TO BE APART OF THE TAGLIST!! HAVE A NICE DAY BAII!!! ;3
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patron-minette · 8 months
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The ‘bon ami’ quote: Montparnasse and Éponine
During the rue Plumet sequence in Les Misérables, we see Éponine employ a range of different tactics to try and get her father and the Patron-Minette to leave the property, initially attempting to again convince them that the house is not worth robbing before making her famous speech of defiance.
When it comes to Montparnasse in this scene, Éponine appears to appeal to him in a slightly more personal (and/or romantic) way than the other Patron-Minette rogues. She initially addresses him informally— “Comment ça va, Montparnasse”— and uses language throughout the chapter that indicates she shares a closer relationship with him than she does with the other members of this criminal gang, employing numerous terms of endearment such as “mon petit Montparnasse” throughout (I’ve written a separate post going into further detail on this so will not repeat myself here). In addition to this, she holds out and grabs his hand early on in the chapter: “Éponine prit la main de Montparnasse” and appeals to him specifically about not going in, saying he is a “good boy”.
All these phrases vaguely imply that these two characters are a little closer than the other figures present in the scene. However, there is one other telling phrase that I feel is of particular importance when it comes to examining the glimmers of dynamic between Montparnasse and Éponine:
“Mon bon ami Monsieur Montparnasse”
What makes this line so noteworthy? Well, because “bon ami” has numerous meanings… On one hand, and in a literal sense, it translates to ‘good friend’. However, ‘bon ami’ is also a common way one might refer to their partner or lover informally. In fact, we even see ‘bon ami’ used in other parts of the novel to explicitly refer to a lover in a tongue-and-cheek manner—specifically, ‘bonne amie’ is used when we are introduced to Babet's mistress!
So, again, here is another instance where Hugo makes an obvious allusion to the fact that Montparnasse and Éponine are likely sleeping together (the first indicator being in the “Némorin” line).
It is the “bon” in “bon ami” which is especially notable in this context. Normally, the phrase ‘mon ami’ was only really reserved for close friends— which is interesting enough anyway, as even under these circumstances it certainly indicates that Éponine perceives herself to be very close to Montparnasse. But, the added ‘mon bon ami’ indicates an even closer relationship than ‘mon ami’ does. While the term cannot be used as an indicator of any sort of formal relationship going on between Montparnasse and Éponine, it certainly is suggestive.
Why would Hugo bother using this ambiguous phrase here? Well, to me it appears to be a purposeful call-back to the couple’s rendezvous on the night of the failed Gorbeau ambush— where Montparnasse was “être Némorin” with Éponine. However, it should be noted that “mon bon ami” is a far more suggestive indication that these characters might’ve actually shared more of a ‘romantic’ relationship than the “Némorin” line does (which, in context, only really suggests that Montparnasse and Éponine slept together on the night of the Gorbeau ambush).
Additionally, in this particular moment I feel it is crucial for readers to acknowledge the semi-infrequent, potentially partially romantic dynamic that exists between these characters, as it makes things all the more crushing when we then see Montparnasse turn around and threaten Éponine’s life at the end of this scene—so perhaps that was also a motivating factor for the suggestive line to feature in this chapter.
Because of the phrase’s multiple meanings, there have been a myriad of different ways that ‘mon bon ami’ has been translated over time. I have compiled how these lines appear in every major English translation of Les Misérables below, excluding the A. F. Richard translation (1863), since it cut the rue Plumet scene. Sidenote, these below examples are really great indicators of just how different some of these translations are!:
"Mon petit Montparnasse," répondit Éponine très doucement, "il faut avoir confiance dans les gens. Je suis la fille de mon père peut-être." [...] "Mon bon ami monsieur Montparnasse", dit Éponine, "je vous en prie, vous qui êtes bon enfant, n'entrez pas!"
—In original French, 1862
"My darling Montparnasse," answered Éponine very gently, "we must have confidence in people. I am my father's daughter, perhaps." [...] "My good friend Monsieur Montparnasse," said Éponine, "I beg you, you who are a good boy, don't go in!"
—Wilbour trans., 1862
"My dear Montparnasse," Éponine replied very gently, "confidence ought to be placed in people, and I am my father's daughter, perhaps." [...] "My kind M. Montparnasse," Éponine said, "I ask you, who are a good fellow, not to go in."
—Wraxhall trans., 1862
"My little Montparnasse," responded Éponine very gently, "you must have confidence in people. I am the daughter of my father, perhaps." [...] My good friend, Mr. Montparnasse," said Éponine, "I entreat you, you are a good fellow, don’t enter."
—Hapgood trans., 1887
"Montparnasse, my love," said Éponine very sweetly, "you must learn to trust people. Aren't I my father's daughter?" [...] "Montparnasse, you're my friend," said Éponine, "you're a good lad. Don't go in!"
—Denny trans., 1976
"My darling Montparnasse," answered Éponine very gently, "we must have confidence in people. I am my father's daughter, perhaps." [...] "My good friend Monsieur Montparnasse," said Éponine, "I beg you, you're a good boy, don't go in!"
—Wilbour trans. revised by Lee Fahnestock and Norman MacAfee. 1987
"My dear Montparnasse," Éponine replied very sweetly, "you must learn to trust people. I am my father's daughter, after all." [...] "My very dear friend, Monsieur Montparnasse," said Éponine, "please, you're a good boy, don’t go in!"
—Rose trans., 2007
"My dear Montparnasse," Éponine replied very softly, "you should trust people. I'm my father's daughter, after all." [...] "My dear friend, Monsieur Montparnasse," said Éponine, "you're a decent lad, I beg you not to go in there."
—Donougher trans., 2013
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rainbowchewynuggets · 7 months
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youtube
IT'S DONE IT'S DONE IT'S DONE IT'S DONE
I've been grinding away at this for months. I can't wait for people to see it. This project turned out to have a lot of gears behind it, so check out the artist statement below!
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
I love this song. The first time I heard it, I already began picturing a story where a woman stumbled upon a gathering of birds in the forest and became so enthralled by their song that she partied with them until she became a bird, herself. It turns out that isn’t too far off from the singer, Yma Sumac’s, first experiences learning to sing. She would imitate the animals near her home in the hills of the Andes mountains as a very young kid, developing a vocal range that would make her famous later on.
From there, I fell into a montage of research on her life and the Peruvian festival music that defined her early career, as well as the complicated story of the exotica music she became most known for in the United States. I followed that up with a month-long dive into northwest Peruvian culture, mythology, ornithology, flora, and topographical studies. Then, I blacked out somewhere during the drawing phase, and now I’m here.
While I really value what I’ve learned while doing this project, I think it’s important to note that I did it all as an amateur researcher and a foreigner to the subject. I decided it would be a little conceited to try to make a totally accurate depiction of a traditional Peruvian festival, so I instead focused on referencing the regional variation of these traditions. Costumes and music have their own specific designs and textures depending on the area, and dances and festivities reflect local history. Yet, it all shares the same themes of celebrating prosperity and surviving hardship. Common motifs and characters reflect a shared heritage and cultural identity that coexists with individuality. It’s all just very cool to me.
So I asked myself, what if these birds had their own version of these traditions? What would a bird sing a folk song about? What would be new and cool to Yma, but still familiar enough that she could join in? (I got lucky, since Peruvian festival culture is already very reverent of birds and feather patterns.)
What I ended up with pulled a lot from the Carnaval de Cajamarca, which originated in the next town over from Yma’s childhood home of Ichocán. It also references these dances, among others:
Huaylarsh - Los Emplumados - Marinera - Tondero - White Dance / Los Chunchos
It’s also important to know that I took a lot of creative liberties with my research to pull the story together. I hope I haven’t used any elements in a harmful or insensitive way–and if I have, I’d like to know so that I can apologize. (I also missed out on some cool stuff, like the White Dance always having shaker beads on the legs.) I highly encourage you to have a look at some of the sources I did, and to look further if you’re interested. I found it all very enlightening, and I hope you will too.
Yma’s wikipedia, which seems like a mostly accurate overview based on other sources
Her official website, curated by a fan and friend
A segment on NPR about her musical career
The interview I got the opening from
The ornithology archive that saved my ass
I’d like to work on uploading all the frames as an image reel somewhere so they can be looked at individually. Might take a while, though.
Thanks for watching!
(To those using a screen reader, the video description follows this message. I'd like to apologize for putting the description as the last thing on the post. Not only is it extremely long, but this seemed to be the rare instance where the description would benefit from the context of the post's commentary before being read itself. I wrote and formatted this description in a way that I hoped would apply to aid various disabilities that impede enjoying music videos, and I am very interested in getting feedback.)
DESCRIPTION
[The following is presented as an animatic (a series of still images edited into a video) set to music. The art is drawn with condensed yet fuzzy pastel-like linework and full color. The song used is “Chuncho” by Yma Sumac. The song was composed to imitate the various sounds of tropical birds and animals. It has no lyrics, at least in a traditional sense. I, the describer, have tried my best to translate the especially abstract nature of this song into language that can be interpreted through text. Please use the best of your imagination to fill in the rest. An audio description will always refer to the visual description that follows it.
Audio: A male interviewer asks, “Since you are referred to the bird who became a woman in your native Peru, Ms. Sumac, may we hear your exotic voice?”
Visuals: A title card appears with gold lettering on a black background. It reads one word: Chuncho. The word is depicted as if it were carved into a flat surface with loose individual strokes.
Audio: A woman answers, “I will try to imitate the birds, as I did in my earliest years in the mountains of Peru.”
Visuals: Credits appear, also in gold text: Sung by Yma Sumac (Zoila Augusta Emperatriz Chàvarri del Castillo. Drawn by Carlie Hughes (rainbowchewynuggets).
Audio: The music begins with the steady four-note strumming of a guitar, which will continue throughout the song. Then, it is accompanied by low ragged notes from a heavy woodwind instrument.
Visuals: A green cicada flicks its wings as it rests on a plant with jagged leaves and a little white flower growing from the middle. Beetles of green, red, and yellow crawl around on trees and ferns among puffy yellow blooms. Yellow humpback beetles huddle together on a cold stone surface as mothlike butterflies cling to hanging purple-grey moss in the background. A cluster of butterflies of black, green, blue, orange, purple, and red flare their wings along stems and vines. A line of spiny cocoons hang from a vine leading up the center of the group.
Audio: A vocalist, the same woman as before, begins to sing in vocables. Her first notes are short, round, and bubbly, like the chirping of a small bird. The lilt of a flute follows.
(“B-bm, bui-bui-buiii…”)
Visuals: A small village sits on the side of a forested and scrub-covered mountain at night. Buildings twinkle with yellow and blue window light through the darkness. At the edge of the forest, a tall lean woman appears with warm orange skin, long black hair, a simple green dress cinched at the waist with blue trim on the neck, hem, wrist, and waist, and a powder blue shawl tied at the chest. She sneaks away from the village into the temperate tropical forest, glancing back to make sure hasn’t been followed. She grows more at ease as she leaves the buildings behind and strides between bushes, deeper into the trees. She passes a flowering plant with orange petals. Its bulbs are held aloft on long, long stems.
Audio: The vocalist sings in elongated threads of notes, wavering in a minor key in a mischievous way.
(“Whu, hu-uuuu…”)
Visuals: The woman grazes her fingers along a bush with little black berries and white spiky flowers. Her hand passes up and down with the shape of the bush, like the rise and fall of an ocean wave. She walks uphill, past pink clover and increasingly frequent stones.
Audio: The vocalist clicks and rolls her tongue with her notes, like drops of water splashing across stones.
(“Dlu, dlu-dlu-dlu-dlu-buiii…”)
Visuals: A voice suddenly gets her attention. The voice passes by as a green line with wide wave forms. The woman follows it. She passes through a stone forest–dense moss-covered rock formations that reach up toward the sky. The ground below is streaked with snake trails. The line of song is now yellow. It leads her forward along a trail through the rocks. She climbs a more precarious formation of boulders, through dense shrubbery and a dramatic rocky landscape. As the voice shifts redder, her colors shift pinker. Even the environment’s colors are shifting to pinks and blues. She climbs a hill, past tall spindly trees and a nearly vertical mountainside. The pink line of song leads her still upward.
Audio: The vocalist belts out the deep throaty call of a tropical bird trying to be heard far and wide. The notes increase in frequency, then widen into a whoop that softens to a murmur. The flute follows her with a few short forceful notes.
(“Ah, bya bya bya-bya-bya-bya-bya-byaaa, whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-wi, wa-wa-wa wiii…”)
Visuals: When the woman reaches the top of the hill, a light shines up at her from the other side, returning her original colors. Below, she sees a gathering of human-sized bird people celebrating on a leafy platform. They’re dancing in different sized circles around a tree at the center. Rainbow colored ribbons of different lengths have been tied to the branches of the tree and hang down to form the silhouette of a condor. More ribbons and colorful bulbs hang from the leaves above. The line of song (now light blue) travels in a circle around the tree trunk. The camera zooms in, revealing details of the birds and their costumes. The birds are pigeons, hawks, cuckoos, seedbirds, and corvids. They’re all dressed in colorful hats, vests, slacks, and dresses with patterns that reflect those of their feathers. A circle of spotted woodpeckers closest to the trunk wear purple gowns and party hats. The party’s singing expands the blue circle of light. A wider circle of yellow, green, and white birds sit and watch the celebration from the edges of the platform. As a line of bright manakin birds zip by with their hands clasped together, the woman approaches from a nearby branch. She’s enticed by the party and joins the dance, clasping hands with a green parrot and leading the line with a broad smile on her face.
Audio: The vocalist makes a quick sudden series of escalating notes, then makes a hard sound with her teeth and returns to a low whoop. The flute echoes her.
(Ba-bana-baba-cht!,  waw waw waw waw waw waw waw wiii…”)
Visuals: The birds switch to individual dances. A short red woodpecker and a tan long-necked bird with ribbons in her hair dance and sing together, their lines of song intertwining. The woman and three pigeons in red and black dresses stomp their heels in a quartet dance. She follows their steps flawlessly, familiar with the type of dance. When they begin to sing and whistle, she joins them–though her voice isn’t as strong as theirs and her line of song is thin and brittle.
Audio: The vocalist makes a low growl, at first imperceptible, that grows to a steady rumble. The flute follows.
(“Rhhh…, rhh, rhh rhhh…”)
Visuals: Then, the lights darken and redden. The woman stops to notice all the other birds heading to the back of the platform. They climb and flutter up to sit in fruit-bearing branches that grow just beyond. The woman finds herself a spot and picks a piece of fruit to eat. She takes a bite as a show begins. A band of various birds wearing ponchos and cloth hats sit down by the show platform. They play their instruments (flute, guitars and a drum) and count in the performance.
Audio: The vocalist makes more short bubbly chirps. They grow higher in small strings of notes until the phrase ends with a low long note.
(“Bom-bom, t-bom-bom-bom, mbom-bom wiii…”)
Visuals: Five owls appear, bathed in magenta spotlight before the center tree trunk. All of them have their yellow-spotted wings wrapped to mostly cover their black and gold-trimmed dresses. The four owls on the sides are short and red, while the one in the center is tall and bright purple. As all five begin to sing a golden song, they operatically open their wings and extend their feathers. As the light darkens to violet, the black and gold patterns in the folds of their wings leap out as if exposed to blacklight. They extend their arms upward and then double over to kneel on the stage, fully splaying their wings in a dramatic display. The woman watching is transfixed.
Audio: The vocalist rolls a noise from the back of her throat. Once, twice, three times–before hitching the roll up and down and letting it trail off. The flute makes a low hollow arc of a note.
(“Ghhh, ghhh, ghh gh-gh-gheee…”)
Visuals: Cut to the next performance. Two teams of blackbirds with long waving feathers compete, standing on each other’s shoulders to form two pyramids. The one at the top of each team lunges forward to try to strike the other with a long stick, propelled by their team. Their feathers glow with yellow light from above. The team on the left—with orange vests and red sashes—strikes first, only nearly missing. They gloat as the lime vest and green sash team on the right recoils and protests. Then, it’s the green team’s turn to take a confident lunge, forcing the red to frantically pull back in time to dodge. On the next strike, the red team buries the stick in the top of the enemy pyramid (actually tucked under the green leader’s arm). The victim feigns a mortal wound, and the entire team flies away. The red team poses, victorious. The red leader gets down to the floor to greet the widow of the green team, wearing a green dress. She peers at him from behind a silky black wing. As soon as he lands, she whacks him over the head with her own concealed stick. He is surprised. She is unamused.
Audio: The vocalist lets out a ghostly wail that wavers wildly like an eerie wind, higher and higher. A shaker instrument rumbles beneath her voice.
(“Woaaa… woaaa… woaa–”)
Visuals: Next, it’s dark. Three colorful birds in masks and costumes tread the air at an angle on the left side of the screen against a blue and green background. There’s a yellow spiky one, representing lightning. A blue round-feathered one, representing rain. And a spade-feathered green one, representing trees. Long beaded threads tied to their wings and tails wave and tangle across the screen as a group of five hummingbirds in shades of red struggle to survive the “storm” raging around them. The colored ribbons of the central tree are muted and flutter with the power of the wind. Two other birds hug the trunk, nearly out of sight. There’s a prop on the floor to the right made to look like a stone alcove, where more hummingbirds are hiding. The storm bringer birds beat their wings hard, casting the strings of lightning, water, and leaf shaped beads in huge chaotic waves. The five hummingbirds in vests and dresses wince and tumble against the wind, flying together in a tight circle. The threads crisscross behind them, an overwhelming force on the tiny birds’ scale. A red line of song floats up to reach them, guiding them down to the nest.
Audio: When her wail is at its highest, the vocalist pushes it further into the voice of a shrill songbird. The note hangs high in the air, then takes a few steps down and up. The segment ends with the sudden interjection of the low round voice–as if in surprise–and a trailing mumble.
(“Haaa, aa-aa aa-aa aa-aa, hoa? Ah, bw-huh…”)
Visuals: Those in the stone nest finish singing and reunite with the others, pulling them down to safety. A blackbird hiding behind the trunk spreads its wings, sitting on the shoulders of a brown woodpecker. The blackbird’s vest and wingspan are covered in yellow, signaling the coming of daylight. The storm birds retreat and sit still on a nearby branch. The wind is suddenly gone.
Audio: The guitar plays alone.
Visuals: After the stage performances, the audience members move back to the platform. They’re gathered off to the far left side of the central tree trunk, standing in a circle around a single figure. The light of the gathering area is deep plum-purple in far off areas and warm dull pink over the crowd. The empty space around the single dancer is salmon red, and the figure herself is blue.
Audio: The vocalist perfectly mimics the sound of a flutter, of delicate waving in the wind.
(“W-w-w-w-w-w-w”)
Visuals: The camera zooms in on her hand as it flits a pink handkerchief in the air.
Audio: The vocalist belts a pair of bold staunch vocables. The second note is held for several seconds before fading out.
(“Kyen, kyen…”)
Visuals: The camera pulls back to reveal the rest of her. She’s a blue eagle with wings that grade from red at the arms to pink to blue at the wingtips in a wavy pattern. Her smiling beak is bright pink. Her dress is royal blue with reddish-pink trimmed ruffles on the hem of the skirt, waist frill, neck frill, and the flower decoration on the side of her head. She stands with the hem of her dress in one hand and the handkerchief extended in the other in an open invitation to dance. A pale pink spotlight frames her head and shoulders against the darkness, and a dark pink line of song passes behind her. Her partner, an eagle of the same coloration with a blue vest and pants, pink shirt, pale orange sash, a blue hat in one hand, and a pink hanky of his own raised in the other, is calling to her. He puts his hands behind his back and takes high steps toward her. When the two are close, they turn and walk parallel to each other in a slow circle. The male’s back is to his partner. He looks at her over his shoulder with a smile and abruptly splays his feathers to be cute. There’s a layer of pink under his outer coat. She grins, entertained.
Audio: The vocalist repeats the two vocables, twisting the end of the second up into a high wavering trill that eventually soothes and disappears.
(“Kyen, kye–eee, ee, eee, ee…”)
Visuals: The two turn to face each other, circling tighter and tighter in unified song until they’re face to face, looking deep into each other’s eyes. With another turn, they’ve passed by each other and out of sight.
Audio: The vocalist makes a whisper, a ghost of the two vocables. Then, a few quick whistles, barely loud enough to hear.
(“Hyo, hyo”)
Visuals: The woman, who has been captivated by the dance, suddenly notices that the crowd has dispersed around her. Partners are walking off in all directions, leaving her alone. The dance is over.
Audio: The guitar picks up, getting faster and louder for a bit.
Visuals: The woman walks alone in the blue night air along a tangle of tree branches that form a pathway. She walks with her hands behind her back, her face looking preoccupied and a little disappointed. Bushels of soft leaves pass by in the background.
Audio: A high, light pleasant note from the vocalist overtakes the guitar. It grows until it fills the soundscape.
(“Aaa…”)
Visuals: An orange song reaches her from the direction she came, and she stops. When she turns, she sees a blue swift standing on the branch path, far behind her in an opening in the trees. The underside of his feathers is dingy orange, and he’s wearing a black vest, white pants, a rusty red sash around his waist, a bright green kerchief around his neck, and an orange rectangular accessory tied around his neck like a necklace. His face is obscured by a white hat with an orange band. He bows low with a hand on the hat. The hat comes off, revealing inviting eyes and a smiling orange beak. The woman grins and accepts the invitation with determination.
Audio: The vocalist draws long high vocables that resemble a wail. They trail off with a low note.
(“Whoa whoaaa…”)
Visuals: She and the swift untie the fabric around their necks and step toward each other as the line of song forms a ring above them. The woman holds the ends of the shawl in her hands and her hands at her hips with the body of the shawl hanging behind her waist. The bird holds his kerchief out in one hand with the hat in the other, held behind his back. He takes measured winding steps along the branches. The woman mirrors his steps, then pushes off of the main path and lands on an outcropping branch.
Audio: The vocalist’s song wavers back up and demurely bobs up and down, intertwined with tweeting from the flute.
(“Hoa…  ohee…”)
Visuals: Her voice, seafoam green and a little stronger than before, trails behind her. She darts back onto the main branch and ducks behind the bird, then circles around to face him, the two only a few feet apart. They exchange steps pushing the other forward and back and flicking their garments in time with their movements. The woman’s voice grows stronger, nearly matching his. The bird quickly catches up as she moves backward, dancing beside her. The two dancers then leap from the main branch and fall down into the rocky forest below, passing by grassy plateaus and vines creeping through stone. Their song follows all the way down. They leap across boulders in the moonlight, side by side. The swift suddenly stops and folds his kerchief around the center of the shawl, hitching the two together. 
Audio: The vocalist belts a complex series of syllables that mimic the heavy majestic cawing of a large bird or hawk. The flute makes itself known a little as the voice fades out.
(“Hlau-lau-lau hau-au-wau-wa-wiii…”)
Visuals: The woman, at the receiving end of the momentum, is swung wide and lets out a vibrant complex line of song that could match any bird’s. The two pull closer to each other and end their song on a low steady note. Then, they bow to each other as the camera pulls back. They’re standing on a rock that rises above a basin of  water among huge formations of rock. Pairs of birds dance all around them in the shallows.
Audio: The guitar takes over for a bit.
Visuals: The camera cuts to an upward view of a varied group of birds sitting in branches, staring downward with interest. The light from the moon coming down through a break in the trees above is now cool green. The light coming up from where the birds are looking is orange-red. 
Audio: The vocalist lets out the aggressive growling of a cat.
(“U-wau, wau-wau-wau-wau”)
Visuals: Below, the woman is dancing in a line with three reddish woodpeckers in a greenish clearing in the trees. They wear intricately detailed dresses in different combinations of bright green, yellow, red, and black with geometric and floral embroidery. The dresses are cinched at the waist with a piece of fabric covered in colored bands. Their heads are covered in scarves with the same colors and patterns. They sing and step aggressively toward the left of the screen. At the other side of the clearing, a line of four red and white faced woodpeckers with green beaks and wings face right. They wear bright green hats, kerchiefs, and sashes, yellow and black striped vests, and dark red pants with yellow tassels at the ankles. Their black shoes tap against the ground as they make quick little dance steps and flutter yellow handkerchiefs. They hold onto the brims of their hats and then lean down with a flourish of their arms, exposing the red crests of their heads sticking up underneath. The dance then changes formation. The girls dance in a line to the left as the boys step in a line to the right. 
Audio: The growl hushes down to a wavering whisper, like wings beating in the dark.
(“Tchwahh-cwah-cwah-cwah-cwah-cwah-cwah-cwah…”)
Visuals: Out on a cliff by a waterfall, the scene is bathed in cyan. The line of dancers–alternating male, female, male, female–do a hopping dance from partners on the left to those on the right and back again as they move along the cliff, passing behind the waterfall as it disappears into the greenery in the foreground.
Audio: The guitar asserts itself again.
Visuals: Everything is suddenly red. A guitarist in a blue poncho and a red neck sash frets the neck of a guitar with a brown feathered hand. Rainbow ribbons are tied to the headstock. A deep orange song emanates from the strings.
Audio: The vocalist quickly accompanies the guitar with a harmonized version of the growl that revs up climatically, taking steps up the scale until it’s at its absolute height.
(“U-wa-wa ee-ee eh-oh! Oh-oh-oh-ohh!”)
Visuals: A congress of the partygoing birds stand in lines facing each other, all wearing blue outfits with red kerchiefs with rainbow tassels on them. The group jumps up and down in unison as part of a dance. The party breaks into smaller dances, and the woman dances by herself. She’s wearing a green skirt and flowy purple top with red underskirt, waist cinch, and scarf. Rainbow tassels are attached to the overskirt, and they swish with her movements. Beside her are a hawk woman and a pair of long billed bird men dancing in a circle with their ankles locked. A pair of red birds with white streaks on their wings suddenly hoist the woman into the air, as other birds are hoisted in the distance. As she’s held aloft, she sings and spreads her arms, revealing more tassels on her top, resembling wings. Her song is immense and beautiful. The camera focuses on one of the hoisted birds in the background, who has executed a handstand with the person who threw them. The blackbird’s feathers are all sorts of bright colors. The song passes by behind him. The excitement of the party disguises the presence of a looming pair of yellow slitted eyes peering out from a dark spot between the leaves nearby. A trio of purple pigeons dancing in a line with twigs and colored strings in their hands dip and weave together. The one in front balks, noticing the threat at last.
Audio: The high energy of the music suddenly cuts out. The shrill call of a small bird climbs up out of the silence.
(“Eee…”)
Visuals: A striped short legged pampas cat pounces into the center of the dance field. It misses the birds, but the illusion is shattered. The bird people are just birds again. They fly in a frenzy up through the trees to the safety of the early morning sky. The hilltop erupts with silhouettes of wings.
Audio: When the small bird’s call is at its highest, it tumbles back down and transforms into a low disquieting wail. The guitar re-enters.
(“Ee-ee-ee-ah-ahh ahh oohhh…”)
Visuals: The pampas cat has retreated into the dim tawny forest. It stands on a bent tree branch among bushes and hanging moss and stares into the camera with glowing yellow pupils. A tiny rodent scurries by and into a bush. The cat notices and darts after it. Nearby, dozens of bats hang from the underside of a rock formation that extends over a field of berry bushes. Their sleepy heads are tucked into their folded wings. A straggler flaps up to join the rest as the sun continues to rise. Elsewhere, a hive with wasp-like insects resting on the outside hangs over a rock. Sunlight gleams over the scene from a break in the trees in the background. A large brown mouse climbs up on the rock, backlit by the sun. It grabs a wasp in its teeth and leaves before the rest of the hive can wake up.
Audio: The vocalist makes a low steady murmur. A couple shakes from the shaker instrument follow.
(“Hoo…”)
Visuals: A colony of green and brown frogs with purple eye ridges, yellow faces, and orange bellies are asleep on dewy ridges of rock. A green cicada hangs out on a leaf off to the top left corner. The mouse jumps down through their resting spot, waking them all up. The frogs croak a green song as the cicada hangs on for dear life on the swinging leaf. The wind moans through the crevices of another stone forest. The little flowering shrubs that grow on the rocks bristle in the breeze. A variety of green, yellow, and blue lizards poke their heads out of the rocks, into the morning light.
Audio: The vocalist repeats the murmur. The flute follows this time.
(“Hoo…”)
Visuals: The camera pulls back to view the entire rock formation. The still rising sun shines only on the top half of right-facing stones. Long spindly tree trunks grow from the top left, out of sight. Long grass waves on the ground below. An alpaca-like vicuña raises its head from the long grass, facing the light. In the branches of the trees above, various birds perch facing left.
Audio: The vocalist makes a mysterious sound that begins as a harsh sound between her teeth and ends as a whisper. It echoes in the background.
(“Chwah-ah…”)
Visuals: The camera turns back to the village. Golden light casts diagonally across the brown roofs and tan buildings. The silhouette of a small bird flies toward the center of town.
Audio: The vocalist makes the sound again, then pulls the whisper up into a harsh repeated rasp from the back of her throat.
(“Chwah-ah qwah-qw-qw-qw-qw-qwah-qwah-qwah”)
Visuals: Down in between the one-story houses, the bird flutters down. Long shadows lay across a passage leading toward a door on the side of a building. We see the shadow of the woman land in the soft dirt path where the bird’s would have. She heads toward the door at a walking pace.
Audio: The call returns to a whisper. The vocalist clicks her throat in a short series of hollow sounds, nearly like the creaking of wood.
(“Qwk-qwk-qwk-qwk-qwk, qwk qwk qwk qwk”)
Visuals: As she opens the door to enter the purple interior light of the house, we see that she’s back in her green dress, but now her shawl is red. The sun glints in her hair. Before she goes inside, she looks back and winks at the camera with a smile. Then, she slowly pulls the door behind her until it’s shut.
Audio: The vocalist lets out her breath entirely as the accompanying music trickles into silence.
(“Haaa…”)
Visuals: The screen is black for a few seconds.
Audio: The high whistling call of a green manakin can be heard over the rustling of forest trees. The call’s tone is raised at the end, like it’s asking a question.
(“Twee?… Twee?… Twee?… Twee?”)
Visuals: The end card appears. Yellow and green lettering and a border lay on a black background. The text reads: Yma Sumac. Peruvian soprano and composer. October 13th 1922 until November 1st 2008. Biographical and reference info in description. Chuncho, 1953. Written by Moises Vivanco. Capitol Records, Universal Music Publishing Group. Carlie Hughes. Tumblr @rainbowchewynuggets. www.carliehughes.com. End ID]
INDEX
73 notes · View notes
rallamajoop · 3 months
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I recently found your blog while working on some things for a Heisenberg fic, and I love it! It made me think more about this HC that I have about Urias and Heisenberg. Since you have a lot of posts that talk about the game files and things like that, I wanted to ask your informed opinion on this if that's alright?
My HC is that Urias is actually Heisenberg's father--not just due to the fact that the concept art and character models look too similar to be a coincidence (in my opinion; I'd also like to add that I've never found anything that confirms or denies (or even refrences) this anywhere online, so if I'm missing something, feel free to let me know!).
I always imagined Heisenberg being close to his father, who likely was the one to teach him everything he knows in terms of engineering (I almost wonder if his name could be Karl Heisenberg Jr., his father being closer in reference to the physicist he's based on than Heisenberg himself. I hope that made sense-).
I imagine Miranda took his father first, whose experimentation results were close to what she was looking for, but no cigar (pun intended), so her next best bet was to hop down the family tree to his son--which yielded much more promising results--giving us the Heisenberg we know and love.
This would definitely explain why Heisenberg is much closer to the lycans than any other character, and why he's able to wrangle them so easily, because he's related to one--even if the consciousness of that relationship is long gone.
I'm so sorry if I came off as weird or anything, your blog just really kind of livened-up my HC and my fic ideas in general, and honestly makes me feelnreally confident about it and wanted to know your thoughts. Thank you! :)
Honestly, my initial kneejerk reaction to this one was “Jeebus, doesn’t the guy have enough dads already?” But on a second thought, heck, maybe there’s actually something to this idea…
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The info we get on the possible Heisenberg family from the notes from the concept art is all over the place, and concepts for Heisenberg’s father are the worst offenders. Sturm was supposed to be his real father, Heisenberg’s monster form was supposed to be his father’s, the village leader was supposed to be his father... I assume these were different ideas from different phases (or one was a step-dad?) but sheesh, how many dads does one guy need?
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Meanwhile, the one thing we do learn about Urias (apart from the fact he seems to part of some extended Urias family) is that he was supposed to be the village’s leader at some point… but that’s where this whole thing might just get interesting. Because if Heisenberg’s father was meant to be the village leader, and Urias was also supposed to be the village leader… could there have been a point in development where both were true at once, and Heisenberg’s father was going to be Urias? (I mean, as well as the village leader, presumably.)
I mean, they’re both beard-y, grey-haired dudes with a love for giant hammers and long coats. It’s not for nothing that so many fans came out of the early previews for this game assuming Urias was just Heisenberg in lycan form. Those concept pics of Heisenberg's father in a trenchcoat with a shock of grey hair aren't a million miles from Urias' design either.
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There's some plausibility to the idea of Miranda experimenting on members of the same family too, especially if they've got cause to claim descent from one of the four founders. I speculated as much myself about what might have happened to the rest of the Beneviento family in my post on her background. Heisenberg specifically strikes me as more the sort of guy who probably wasn't born in the village, given he names his monsters in German, mocks the very idea of his lordship (more on that here), and is clearly the least brainwashed member of the family. But that's interpretation ‒ there's nothing truly definitive either way.
You'd have a harder time squaring 'an engineer who taught Karl all he knew' with Urias' role as the village leader, though ‒ I have trouble picturing anywhere as superstitious, isolated and backward as the village being led by someone with that much 'outsider' knowledge to pass onto his son. RE has certainly tried to sell us on wilder things, but it doesn't really click for me.
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As for Heisenberg's affinity for lycans, that's more debatable. He certainly seems to be commanding them at the start of the game (just to really cement all those lycan!Heisenberg theories!) but past that point, any lycan associations dry up very quickly. There are no lycans to be found anywhere in the factory ‒ just soldats, and moroi wearing mind-control visors (called ‘haulers’, but they’re obviously just new versions of the creatures you meet in Donna’s domain). Why bother putting visors on skinny zombie creatures if he could command lycans without them? Doesn’t really seem like Heisenberg’s ability to control lycans goes far beyond ‘stop’ and ‘go’.
True, Heisenberg does leave his Rose-flask in a stronghold full of lycans. But he also sends Ethan to that stronghold, where he has to fight and kill Urias himself. The idea that Heisenberg was ever close to his lycan-dad is going to be hard to square with how casually he sends someone to kill Urias, or how pleased he seems that Ethan succeeded. In Heisenberg’s mind, lycans are nothing so much as they’re expendable – Urias included.
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So as far as the finished game goes, I think it’s probably reaching to suggest that Urias (of the extended Urias clan) is related to Heisenberg, who so casually throws him in Ethan’s way as a test. But the possibility that maybe Urias was going to be a Heisenberg at some point in development is a better explanation for the fact the Urias-clan are so big into hammers and trenchcoats than any other explanation I’ve heard yet. It’s certainly no crazier than so many other headcanons I’ve heard around this game.
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But speaking of the Urias-clan, let's cover the other Uriasi you can find around the game. Urias Strajer (the bigger version of Urias with the mace that Chris fights near the megamycete) is supposedly Urias' older brother ‒ something the concept art wants you to know so badly it's mentioned on pictures of both of them. So if you still want one of them to be Heisenberg's father, the other is presumably his uncle. Heck, maybe Strajer could be Heisenberg's father, and Urias could be the uncle he never liked very much (despite his excellent taste in hammers), if you want to explain Heisenberg's lacking reaction to Urias' death. Some of the game files for Strajer are labeled 'village elder', which also points some kind of connection. Chock up some more evidence of Miranda experimenting on members of the same family too!
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The two axe-wielding optional bosses you can fight in the sawmill and over Claudia's grave are apparently Uriases too ‒ Urias Drac, specifically, though you'd only know that from RE.net, where you can see stats for how many of them you've killed in Mercenaries mode. Personally, I only realised they were supposed to be lycans at all because you can one-shot them with the magnum if you unlock the 'special customisation' that 'does extra damage against lycans' ("extra" apparently means "10x" in special-customisation land). But presumably they're based on the same unused design from the concept art of this one 'lycan' out walking his varcolacs too.
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Are these Uriasi too part of the greater Urias-family? Who knows ‒ that one's up to you. Their bodies, with that swollen weak point on the back, do match the model for Urias Strajer (shown below). In fact, I'm pretty sure all the Uriases use the same base model, just with different clothes, armour and hair. So there's some shared DNA in there somewhere (even if only in the sense that recycling a good model saves so many hours of development time).
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The name 'Urias' is apparently a term for giant in Romanian, which checks out. Strajer, meanwhile, apparently translates as 'guardian' or 'sentinel', which tracks with the fact Strajer's job is to guard the megamycete. 'Drac', meanwhile, seems to be the same word you might know from Dracul (dragon or devil) or Dracula (son of the above) ‒ though I am also amused that google translate tried to tell me 'urias drac' means 'huge fuck'. 'Giant demon' may be more on the money for that one. Either way, all this etymology does strongly suggest that 'Urias' is more a description than an actual family name. Which is somewhat reassuring, because nothing I've read about Romania suggests they put surnames first.
Probably just to annoy me, personally (because I absolutely will overthink this shit now you've got me started), one of the models used for regular-vanilla-Urias is randomly called 'Gregorio', a name that shows up nowhere else in the game. There is a Grigori ‒ he's that old guy who gave Ethan his first handgun before the lycans dragged him away.
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I really do not think we're supposed to take it that Urias is a lycanised Grigori, though ‒ that's rather too big a transformation in not nearly enough time. Otherwise, 'Gregorio' is neither Romanian or German (like both 'Karl' and 'Heisenberg' are) ‒ it's Italian or Spanish, which is just confusing. One of the four founders (more on them here) did have a vaguely similar name ‒ Guglielmo ‒ but I don't think that's really close enough to mean much either. 'Gregorio' could be the name of a developer who worked on the file once, for all I know.
So where does that leave us? Honestly, nowhere very exciting. None of the evidence of this greater Urias family was actually in the playable game (notes on concept art and names you have to find on an unrelated website are very tenuous canon at best). Still, Urias and Urias Strajer are similar enough that it's reasonable to assume they must have some sort of relationship. So take all this as you will (or not at all).
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whomadewaffles · 2 months
Text
Some pjhazel incorrect quotes I've been saving for awhile...I feel like with how starved for content shippers of these two are right now, keeping these to myself would be a crime. I'm SO sorry for not citing sources. I wasn’t originally planning to post these, and finding them retroactively is like.. impossible.
Pjhazel is the focus, but others are included as side characters. So if you don't ship them, then just scroll on by and go about your day, please!
Also, for a heads up that will apply to all 3 parts: expect bad language and sex references cos obviously.
Oh, and this is part 1 of 3, even if it is the longest part
Long post under the cut!
_______
Josie: You slept with Hazel? OUR Hazel? Callahan??
Pj: I didn't know what else to do! She had those big, sad eyes. I couldn't help it.
Josie: ...sure, sounds like you had no other choice.
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Pj: I love saying 'fuck me' because it can either be sexual or sarcastic and those are two things that describe me perfectly.
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Hazel, jumping out of pj's closet: BOO!
Pj:
Hazel:
Pj:
Hazel: *makes the patented Hazel callahan sad face*
Pj: Ahh! Oh my god! You scared me!
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Hazel: TERRIBLE NEWS!
Pj: Did you disarm the bomb?
Hazel: If I disarmed it, would I come running in here and shout, TERRIBLE NEWS!?
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Pj: hazel, you are such a nerdy little dork, you can't pull any girl.
Hazel * has been crushing on her since they met*: okay. that's fine.
*2 years later*
Hazel: so what did you say? Repeat that again.
Pj: 🤡
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Pj: It has come to my attention, that I have some unresolved feelings or resentment toward my father.
Therapist: a little late, but I’m happy you’ve taken this first step. Now you can start looking to overcome that.
Pj: Already done. I’ve found a full proof solution…I’m going to ignore it. Completely and utterly.
Pj: just like my dad did me.
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Pj: the secret to being impulsive successfully is being faster than the consequences of your actions. you can't let them catch you or its all over
Annie: is that why everytime Hazel even looks at you since you kissed her you run away like a little bitch?
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Pj *trying everything she can to kiss hazel again without just admitting she likes her like a normal healthy person*: Hey, are you aware that kissing reduces stress?
Hazel: Okay.
Pj:
Hazel:
Pj: Hey, you look stressed. Like, really stressed. Just wanted to let you know.
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Hazel: It’s not that I don’t trust pj, I just... don’t trust her impulse control
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Hazel: None of you might remember this, but there was a time when PJ considered herself out of my league.
Hazel: Oh, how the mighty have fallen (into my arms)
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Hazel *trying to teach her girlfriend how to take better notes in class*: to make it easier, you should always highlight the important things
*later*
Annie: Hazel, why are you covered in different colored highlighter?
Hazel: don't ask
Pj: she's important! okay!?
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Hazel: I'm freaking out, How do I make our first date really romantic?
Stella-Rebecca: Be mysterious.
Hazel: Okay!
*later, while on a date with pj* 
Pj: So where are we going?
Hazel: None of your fucking business.
Pj *is shocked and a little turned on* 😳
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Pj: Yeah, I lost the ability to give a shit at a very young age. It was a very tragic accident. Never recovered
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Pj: *on the phone with josie* I can’t talk right now, I’m doing hot girl shit.
Josie: You’re pulling Oreos apart and shaving off the frosting to make a mega Oreo, aren’t you?
Pj: Maybe.
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Pj: I love you.
Hazel: I thought I annoyed you?
Pj: You do annoy me. You annoy me more than I ever thought possible, but I want to spend every irritating moment with you.
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Pj: Im tired
Hazel: You should come to the gym with me! We could make it a date and exercising gives you energy!
Pj: Yeah, the same energy you need to go to the gym
Pj: Sounds like a pyramid scheme to me
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Pj *texting*: I'm showering
Hazel *texting back*: oh nice, send a pic of you're hair in a giant spike lmao!
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Pj: rest assured, rational me and impulsive me are having a fucking smackdown 24/7 100% of the time
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Hazel: Please, this is the 4th time its happened, I'm begging you go to a doctor.
Pj: I'm sorry is this OUR broken nose? Stay out of it.
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Pj: I asked Hazel out.
Britney: Oh, I’m sorry.
Pj: Why?
Brittney: Well, I assume she said no.
Pj: No, she said yes.
Brittney: Really? Then I’m sorry for her.
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Pj: Shout out to my girlfriend who just randomly decided to eat my chapstick.
Hazel: WHY WOULD THEY MAKE IT COTTON-CANDY FLAVORED IF IT WASN'T MEANT TO BE EATEN?!
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Pj: You're annoying.
Hazel *in her head*: Enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst with happy ending, 300k+ words
------
Pj: I win
Hazel: I am literally pinning you down
Pj: I know
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Hazel: So sorry for making you fall in love with me because of my autistic swag and kissable lips.
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Pj: *Drinking a bottle of water*
Josie: Since when do you carry water? I've known you my whole life and you never do that.
Pj: Hazel freaked out ‘cause I told her I never drink water
Pj: Now she’s making me drink 8 glasses a day
Pj: It’s like, there’s water in soda, coffee, the little pools of water on pizza…
Isabel: …That’s grease
Pj: Well it’s wet isn’t it!
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Hazel: You're in love with me?
Pj: Unless you're not in love with me. Then I take it back, because, you know... I'm cool.
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Pj: You are an absolute fucking dork.
Hazel *singing*: Yeah, but I'm your dork!
Pj *happy sigh*: Yeah, you're my dork.
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Pj: I'm a very good liar.
Josie: Yesterday, I asked if you were missing  hazel while she was gone, and you said "no" right before bursting into tears.
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hydrajones · 8 months
Text
As promised to no one but myself, here's a quick rundown of my mom's epic Utena theories/reactions as of the end of the Student Council Saga (and ep 13 b/c recap)
-I don't remember anything specific for the first 3 episodes, other than general anger at Saionji and deciding Nanami was a brat. My bad-
-*at start of show* "Okay, mom, pay attention to the opening since it has clues" "Okay!" *episode 4* "Wait, is that the bratty sister in the opening?" "...you just noticed that?" "Oh hush, you know I never pay attention to openings"
-I don't remember exactly what she said, but she quickly realized that Miki REALLY wants to get reconnected with his sister and his 1st crush is getting all mixed in it
-also she officially finds Nanami funny, says she "acts more like a 10 year old" then a 12 year old
-spent the entire Tsuwabuki into episode absolutely funny/shocking. Spent the whole time laughing and gasping
-figures out the lesbian Juri plot twist immediately
-also spent the entire curry episode laughing and lightly concerned over how determind the elephants were
-*about Touga* "He is so not her prince!" <- repeated with more frustration everytime Utena thinks that
-*in episode 9* "I almost feel bad for Saionji..." *he slaps Anthy again* "Nevermind"
-"Well, the girl is Utena but Touga isn't the prince from the opening..?" "Yeah, Saionji just doesn't know about that, and the show is trying to confuse us" "I knew it!"
-*episode 10* "Did... did she kill the cat?" "Yeah" "...WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?!?" "Lots of things"
-*after episode 11* "Just because Anthy HAD to agree with everything Utena said doesn't mean she would have disagreed with her. While Anthy is never truely herself, I think she could be as close to "herself" as possible when she was with Utena, even if she didn't mean to"
-*episode 12 opening sequence* "Okay, so that's Utena's real prince opening his eyes. He's connected to the weird upside down castle and Anthy somehow. The whole "crack the world's shell" thing is probably actually about waking him up, but does the student council know that?" "...maybe!" "You've seen this twice" "I'm trying not to spoil anything!"
-Spent all of episode 12 agreeing with Wakaba
-*when Juri gives Utena the sword* "oh I know her! She's the girl duelist who was in love with the girl" "Yep, and they had that whole love triangle" "Which could have been solved if she just communicated with her crush" "none of the characters communicate" "I KNOW! It's very frustrating!"
-"Just because Touga has the sword of Dios doesn't mean he has Dio's power. Dio's might just give his power to Utena anyways" *later in the duel* "called it! Also is he like... a ghost??"
-"Okay mom, this is the recap episode, but it does have important lore" *after the first flashback* "I think this might be a recap!" (teasing me)
-"So I was right about the prince needing to be reawakened, but they aren't explaing anything else. Also who's the suspicious man talking to him?"
-*in the next episode preview* "...Why does Anthy's brother have the same silhouette as the suspicious man??"
Overall, she's getting the main duelist down pretty good. She's still the most confused about Nanami and Touga. She's technically right about her "Dios" theories, but also technically wrong because AKIO. Also completely unaware of the Anthy twist, but having pretty good opinions about her so far.
Please note she does not know anyone's names besides Anthy and Utena. I paraphrased so it would be easy to tell what she's talking about. She consistantly refers to chacers as "(personality trait/design characteristic) (gender)" (ie. "Bratty sister" or "green hair boy").
We did get to episode 14, but imma put all that into a different post. Hopefully I'll remember to update my drafts every week next time so I don't forget as much!
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dp-marvel94 · 1 year
Text
Face to Face- Chapter 54
Summary: When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s back to normal now. But why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny remember a life that wasn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul? Or: Trying to cure himself of his powers one month after the accident, Danny accidentally splits himself but neither his ghost nor his human half know that that is what they did
First -> Last -> Next
Word Count: 7,517
Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net
Note: Finally! The much awaited (for me at least XD) concert chapter! This is probably the most self indulgent thing I have ever written. 😅😳
Seriously though, I put so much time and thought into this love letter to my two favorite things: Danny Phantom and Christian rock. 😂 I hope ya'll enjoy it just a fraction of the amount I did writing it.
(And on a serious note. A warning for some minor religious references and discussion here- the name of Jesus in a reverent context, a character asks another if they would like to be prayed for. I wrote a very long post on Tumblr going to more detail on some of these and my reasons for including them. See the link in the end note.)
Excitement grew, buzzing in Danny’s chest as everyone piled into the GEV. Even Jazz.
The boy raised a brow at his sister. “I figured you’d wanna stay home and read about the psychology of troubled teens or something.”
The red-head rolled her eyes at the comment. She shook her head. “Spike is going. He’s really into the metal scene and I thought going myself might be informative.”
Dad glanced back. “Is that your boyfriend, Jazzirencess?”
Jazz blushed. “We’re just friends, Dad.”
The parents exchanged looks, saying nothing else on the topic. Instead the conversation shifted, back towards the subject of the concert.
“Danny, sweetie. Who are we seeing again?”
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Less than ten minutes later, the group arrived at the park. Dad pulled into a parking spot and turned the vehicle off. The teens were out almost before the van even stopped and practically run across the grass.
There was the stage, set up the field where Sam, Tucker, and his two halves had played frisbee golf on Thursday. Danny stopped a dozen feet away, just staring for a long moment. Not even four days ago he’d fought a dragon here. Signs of the struggle still mard the area: patches of dead grass, a few fallen trees, and –Danny winced at the sight– the destroyed bathrooms, bared off the caution tape. A row of Port-a-Potties has been set up in their stead.
The sound of a guitar broke through Danny’s thoughts. “Feels like I'm stuck. Going nowhere fast.” An older teenage girl was singing while playing. “My life is on the line. I'm running out of time.” The instrument suddenly cut off. Then her voice pitched down, speaking normally. “I’m gonna need more guitar in my ears.” A few more strums. “Perfect.” She glanced over at another teen, holding a bass. “Maggie?”
Beside Danny, Tucker leaned in, right next to his ear. “They’re sound checking!” The half ghost could practically hear the stars in his friend’s eyes. 
“We’re listening to GFM sound check!” Danny felt just as giddy.
More strumming instruments, banging on the drums, growling and yelling into the mic. “Mic check! One, two, three! Can you hear me?!” 
“Yeah!” Woah!” The few people already gathering in front of the stage yelled an affirmative.
“Sounds good, CJ.” The bassist backed up from the mic, leaving her instrument on a stand. “Let’s get dinner.”
“Pizza!” There was a cheer from the drum set.
The other two band members, all sisters if Danny remembered, left the stage, now empty of people. 
Sam tugged on her friends’ arms. “Let’s scope out merch.”
The three hurried over to the merch tables, the group clustered under a tent. First GFM’s merch table, all black and pink and green. Shirts and tank tops. A jersey and hoodie. Wristbands and stickers. Pins. Even a skateboard- with cupcakes and a cheerleader in a black and pink cheer outfit with fishnets.
“I want one of everything.” The goth gushed. 
Next Relent’s table- black cloth covered the table, displaying fewer options but no less enticing.
Danny eyed one particular shirt. 
Tucker pointed. “Dude, check it.” The shirt showed a typical, if spooky, bed-sheet ghost, the scene complete with the band name, fire, lightning, and little bats.
“I’m so tempted.” The half ghost grinned.
Then Protest’s. A huge banner with the band’s logo hung on a frame, shirts displayed around it. In front of that was a table with posters, cds, stickers, and other offerings. A man with long brown hair and an upper arm tattoo was hanging up one last jacket.
“That’s a sick zip-up.” Tucker commented.
The man turned around…. He looked vaguely familiar. “Thanks man. My bro designed it.” He pointed to another man, a few tables down who was talking to some other people. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m-” He held out his hand to Tucker, only to be interrupted.
“Joshua Bramlett!” 
The four turned, only to see-
“Grandma?!” Sam’s eyes crinkled in disbelief of the old woman zooming across the path in her electric wheelchair.
The man’s (presumably Joshua) eyes lit up behind his glasses. “Miss Ida!” He stepped around the group, bending over to hug the woman as her chair stopped. “How have you been?!”
The trio of teens stared, confused. “What is happening right now?” Danny asked.
Meanwhile, the bearded man and Sam’s grandma chatted. “These old joints are acting up. But I wasn’t going to miss seeing you boys for the world.” She patted his hand. “You have to meet my granddaughter.”
Grandma Ida wheeled forward, the man walking back to the trio with her. “This is Sam.” The old woman introduced.
“I’m Josh.” The man offered his hand with a smile.
“Sam.” The goth nodded, accepting the gesture.
“Tucker.”
“Danny.”
Two more hand shakes were given. 
Josh then lowered his hands, putting them in his pockets. “Have you ever seen us before?”
“Us?” Danny raised a brow and the man motioned to the banner. “Oh.” The boy blushed. “You're in the band.” That really should have been obvious; hadn’t he seen him on the flier for this very show?
Josh chuckled, giving a shrug. “I sing for The Protest.” The words were so casual, “Are you excited for the show?” and the question eager and genuinely interested.
The half ghost instinctively felt himself relaxing. “Yeah! We’ve been talking about this for weeks.”
“Me and the boys will be sure to put on a good one for you.” He chuckled, before pointing back at the stage. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got more set up to do. I’d love to talk to you guys more after.”
Sure enough, Josh turned and walked away. The three teens stopped, watching for a long moment.
“He seems nice.” Tucker commented.
“That young man’s one of the sweetest, most genuine people you’ll ever meet.” Grandma Ida nodded, eyes twinkling with her smile. 
“Who you’ve apparently met before?” Sam frowned down, hands on her hips. “You know the Protest’s lead singer. How come you haven’t taken me to see them before?”
The old woman just shrugged, a mischievous look flickering across her face. Then her eyes lit up, gaze flickering to something near the stage. “Is that Marco Pera I see?!” She called out. “Don’t you run off now! Come talk to Grandma Ida.” The old woman wheeled off, leaving the three teens behind.
The goth lowered her hands to her sides, mouth open. “Unbelievable.”
Danny tugged her arm, diverting her attention. “Come on. There’s another table.”
Sam turned back. Her brow furrowed. “I thought there were only three bands playing.”
Tucker shrugged, leading his friends to the table. Sure enough, there was more merch displayed. 
“They have everything.” Danny’s eyes widened. Bags, CDs, posters, stickers, and pins were typical fare. But there were shirts in just about every color, not just black or gray. Keychains and coasters. Wristbands too. Even jewelry, bracelets that looked like they were made of leather.
“You should get that one, Sam.” Tucker pointed teasingly at a pink leather bracelet with the band’s name.
The goth rolled her eyes, giving the technogeek a punch on the arm. 
“Hey!” Tucker protested. 
Sam ignored him, instead reading the writing on the banner behind the table. “Chaotic Resemblance. Who are these guys anyway? They’re not on the flier.”
“We got added last minute.” A blond man, late twenties with a lip ring, looked up from his phone, putting the device in his pocket. “We’re good friends with the guys in the Protest and playin’ a few hours away tomorrow.” The man shrugged. He had an odd accent Danny couldn’t quite place. “Figured we could swing by.”
“Cool.” Danny said with a slight smile. He had no idea who this band was but the prospect of hearing cool, new music was always exciting.
Briefly, names were exchanged; the man’s name was Travis, yet another lead singer. He asked the trio if they’d heard of any of the other bands playing today and who they were excited to see.
“GFM.” Sam’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve been following their vlog for like a year now. The music kicks ass. And their music videos! I love the one for SMILE.” She stopped, blushing in seeming embarrassment from the rant. “So, yeah. I’m excited.”
Travis laughed, expression open and kind, before asking Tucker and Danny the same question. The technogeek mentioned reading a review of The Protest’s new ep on a music website he liked and listening to the songs a bunch. And Danny…
“Relent’s super cool. Sam introduced them to me, since they’re on that same label GFM used to be on.” He blushed, cheeks scrunching up with his smile. “I’ve listened to the new cd like a hundred times. Especially Ghost and Heavy.” Just a hint of sadness brushed his mind at the thought of that second one. “I… really like those songs.”
“You’ve gotta learn the words, right.” Tucker elbowed him playfully. 
The halfa just felt more embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well uh…”
“Don’t be embarrassed.” Travis leaned forward, a conspiratory twinkle in his eye. “Let me tell you a secret. We love it when fans know the words.”
“Really?” Danny asked hesitantly.
“Yep.” The man nodded. “So you better sing really loud for those guys.” The half ghost nodded eagerly. Then, suddenly strumming sounded from the stage. Travis’ head jerked in the direction. “Oh, we’re sound checking. I have to go. It was great talking to you.”
Again, the trio watched him go. And Danny’s shoulder untensed. He felt better, embarrassment and lingering sadness gone. He knew all the words to Heavy because, well… he’d listened… and cried through the song many times. It’s not like anyone could blame him, right? The last two months had been the hardest of his life. But he’d gotten through it. He’d learned and he’d grown. And that song had been a tiny part of that.
Shaking the thought away, the trio of friends returned to their spot near the front. On the way they passed Danny’s mom and dad, both seated in their camping chairs with what looked like a few other parents. Jazz and a teen with black spiky hair and a nose ring stood on the other side of the stage, a little ways back.
The trio stood in front of the stage, excitement building as the band checked their sound. Minutes later, the musicians walked off, leaving the stage bare and ready. Music crackled to life on the speakers. Pre Recorded but familiar, fast paced and energetic, from bands Danny recognized. Anticipation grew.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The shadows were lengthening now, the golden light of late afternoon bathing the scene. The wind blew gently, not too hot or too cold. And the crowd gathered, people packing closer together near the stage. The half ghost’s heart fluttered with excitement. The show must be starting soon…
A cheer rang out around him. The boy looked up.
“Who’s ready to rock?!” It was an older man, maybe ten years older than his dad, bald but with a big, wispy beard and tattoos in a biker jacket. “I’ve always wanted to say that.” He chuckled. “I’m Dave. I’ve been volunteering with Guardians of the Children for ten years now. We’re so excited to have all of you guys here today. ‘Specially these awesome bands on the Gotta Rock ‘em all Tour.” 
Another cheer rose up and Dave clapped. “Yeah! Give it up for these dudes.”
“Woo!!” Danny yelled, voice joining his friends.
More clapping and cheering… slowly the sound died down.
The older man pointed. “Later, one of my buddies is goin’ to tell you all about what we Guardians do. But now… are you ready to have your faces melted!?”
“Yeah!” “Woo!” “Yeah!” The half ghost caught a glimpse of Sam, her fists already in the sky. Tucker, mouth open to yell.
“Our first band wasn’t originally planned to be here. They’re on their own tour now but makin’ a special trip to see us. I love these guys. If you’re in my generation, you’re in for a treat.” Dave’s eyes sparkled knowingly. “Give it up for… Chaotic Resemblance!”
To cheers, the band sauntered onto stage, one by one. The drums pounded, cymbals clashing. Then the bass, an easy strum. The guitar, with a flourish and…
“How are we doing, Amity Park?!” Travis ran onto stage, now in a jean vest with studs and hair unbound.
The first song started, unfamiliar words fast. The guitars slung notes, fast and driving. The singer’s voice rose, high and resonating, with a twang. 
Danny bobbed his head, a smile growing as he listened. The sound tickled his ears. This was cool! Not his typical style for sure. Maybe it was closer to something he’d heard his parents listening to…? 
A hint of a bridge. The guitar solo. On stage, hair flew. The song swept up. 
Around the half ghost, the crowd was swept up with it. Danny’s heart beat faster, hair flopping on his forehead with his movement.
The chorus, on final time…. 
“It's time we break!” Travis half-sung, half-yelled.  “The identity crisis toda-ay!” The note held out, long high and reverberating. Instruments clashed, one finally flurry of head-banging. 
With a final shout, the sound died…. And the crowd cheered.
“Yeah!!” The halfa clapped, the motion big and exuberant.
One voice rose above the rest. “Woah! Radical, dudes!”
Danny looked back, cheeks bright red. That was his dad, hands up and grinning like a mad man.
On stage, Travis chuckled, pointing. “Thank you, sir.”
The half ghost face palmed….
The show rolled on, embarrassment long forgotten. 
“We’ve got one last song!” The singer started. “Thanks for having us.” A cheer from the crowd. The guitars started shredding. “We love you guys. God bless.” A final yell. “Let’s start a riot!”
Travis pumped the air with a fist. “Hey! Hey! Hey!”
Soon the crowd was copying….
Jumping. Hair slinging. Figuring out what to do during the song was natural, the crowd moving as one. 
“This is the Riot Anthem!” 
“Riot! Riot!” The boy’s heart pumped, grinning.
“Our final call to action!”
“Riot! Riot!” He shouted, fist punching the sky…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The set ended but the show went on, Relent playing next, just as the sun was starting to set.
“What you're about to see is not for free. No, I ain't got time for apologies!” Danny spat the words to the much loved song. “I'm a south boy killa. No scope headshot winner.” Screaming. “I can feel something staring at me!”
Bouncing, the half ghost’s spirit soared.
But the next song was Heavy. “I wrote this song based on my wife’s story. She’s been through so much. So many horrible, painful things. But she’s come out victorious.” The singer’s eyes flicking over the crowd. “So I hope her story helps people. I hope it helps you remember you’re not alone. And it helps you find the strength to break the silence and talk about the things that aren’t talked about enough.”
The drums pounded, slow and steady. The emotional words rang out. “I cannot take the pressure. This feels like forever…”
Danny sang along, vision threatening to blur…. 
The singer fisted the mic, eyes closed. “Look what you did to my soul. Look at the size of the hole.” He lamented. Tears collected in the corners of the half ghost’s eyes.  “Why do I, why do I, why do I feel so heavy?”
The song trickled to a stop and Danny’s heart squeezed. He whipped the tears away….
One final Relent song. The music pounded. Danny jumped and head-banged, excitement returning. His head swung at the bridge, the best part of the song. He sung. “Time’s up! What! What! What! Welcome to the-”
A puff of cold air. Danny stumbled to a stop, looking side to side. His eyes caught on… he blinked. A young man with sandy blond hair, a leather jacket. Was that… the motorcycle ghost he saw in the Zone?
Nervous curiosity squirmed in Danny’s gut as the set ended with a bang. The instruments pounded as the people cheered. With waves, the band left the stage.
The half ghost glanced back, his eyes meeting the other ghost’s. The biker raised an eyebrow. Danny turned back to the front, biting his lip. He should probably go talk to the guy. There was a little time before GFM started.
He tapped on Sam’s shoulder who turned as he leaned closer. “Save my spot. Be back soon.” The goth’s brow furrowed for just a second. Then Danny muttered. “Ghost.” He vaguely motioned with his head.
With no more discussion, he ran off, weaving through the crowd. Sure enough… there was the biker ghost. Johnny? That was what the green haired woman he’d been with before had called him, right? Quickly, Danny approached, half a dozen questions buzzing in his head. But what came out of his mouth…
“You should put that thing out.” His eyes narrowed at the death stick in Johnny’s hand. “Don’t you know cigarettes can kill you?”
The older ghost burst out laughing. “Shit, kid.” He dropped the cigarette, the object disappearing into mist as it fell. “How can you even see me?”
“You’re standing right in front of me.” The halfa raised a brow, arms crossed.
“I’m invisible.” He rolled his eyes like it was obvious. “You a medium or something?”
“A medium? What-” 
“Shit, I’ve seen you before.” The biker interrupted, snapping his finger. “You look like that twelve year old who was looking for his Mama.”
“I’m fourteen!” Danny bared his teeth. A cold feeling flickered in his eyes, green light swirling in them. 
“Holy….” The other ghost’s eyes widened. “I thought you were the live twin to your dead bro. But… holy f-king hell….” He pointed. “You’re a halfa.”
Said halfa dropped his arms. “What… How?… I just flashed my eyes and knew it like that?”
“I felt it, now that I’m actually lookin’ at ya…” Somehow, Johnny’s eyes widened more. “How come I didn’t feel it before?”
Danny blushed. “That’s complicated…” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?” The question was curious, just a hint of suspicion. 
“Watching a show.” He motioned to the stage, matter-of-fact. “Me and Kitten stumbled on a natural portal. Thought we’d have a bit of fun.” He leaned forward, voice lowering. “She’s good about knowing how long one’s gonna be open. Said we’ve got ‘til midnight.”
Danny’s brow furrowed. So that was apparently a thing…? But he didn’t ask. Instead he looked side-to-side…. “Where is she?”
“Snooping around backstage.” The other ghost grinned, mischievously, a hint of sharp teeth flashing.
New suspiciousness flashed in his eyes. A desire flickered- to get the thermos and catch the two ghosts before anything happened. But…. the boy sighed. Johnny was just standing here, watching the show like any other concert goer. He sounded like he was enjoying the music. Maybe Danny could hope….
Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Can you at least try not to cause trouble?”
“Trouble?” The man laughed. “We won’t do nothing too bad.” He winked. “Besides, I’m digging these guys… and girls?” His eyes widened slightly, set on something behind. Probably GFM getting on stage. He shook his head, expression just a bit more genuine. “Believe me, the last thing I want is to stop the party.”
At that, Danny sighed. Behind him, cheers started. “Great. I’ll be near the front. Have fun.” He started turning to leave. “And really, don’t try anything. My parents are ghost hunters after all.” He pointed a thumb to the two Fentons adults, standing in front of their chairs. “You saw that big gun my Mom had in the Realms? She knows how to use it. And…” He flashed his eyes. “My folks aren’t the only ones’ armed.”
For a second, Johnny’s face paled, nervousness flickering across it. Then he smirked, summoning another cigarette with a flick of his fingers. “Alright, kid.” Burgeoning respect shone in those eyes. “See you ‘round.”
Danny ran back to the front, pushing through the crowd. In front of him, pink-colored smoke still shot up from the stage. He arrived at his spot just as Maggie ran on stage. 
“What is up Amity? I need you all to make some noise for me tonight!” Arms spread, head back, the teen brought the mic to her mouth and growled….
“Don’t tell me to! Don’t tell me to! SMILE.” A guttural yell. 
Hair flying. The crowd chanted around him. “S.M.I.L.E. Why don’t you smile for me?”
His feet pounded, his heart pounded, sweat running down his back. Beside him, Sam spat the words; he could almost hear her growling along. Tucker banged his head, glasses hanging on for dear life. Even so, his friends’ faces shone with gleeful happiness.
The second verse swung around, the chorus again. Danny’s mind filled up with the words, the rhythm. No room for anything more than the sheer exuberance.
The guitar and bass cut off, drums pounding the beat. “Okay, everyone settle down. Boys and girls, are you ready?” The guitarist, CJ, more chanted than sung.
The crowd clapped and yelled, hands in the air.
“LuLu, are you ready?” Pointing at the drummer. “I know I’m ready!” With a grin. “Maggie, are you ready?” Voice pitched up, a performatively raised brow. “Maggie?”
A pause. The audience held their breath, gripped with anticipation and...
“Go!” A growl from said teen. The breakdown hit.
And the crowd lost it. Jumping. Headbanging. Pushing and shoving. Moshing. The horde jolted. Someone ran past Danny. And…. they were circling?! The half ghost grinned manically. 
“Jack!”
His ears twitched at the cry. A look back, eyes widened. And… Danny just about felt his soul leave his body. His Dad… his dad was in the circle pit. A flash of worry. But the man was keeping up no problem, sure on his feet. 
Danny chuckled, turning back to the front as the last chorus started. His voice joined the rest. At least his dad was having fun….
“Anyone want cupcakes?!” Maggie yelled.
This was it, the last song! And there they were: clear plastic containers with neon-frosted confections. The famed cupcakes!
“Misery loves company, I bet you're fun at parties.” Cupcakes flew. “Chasing after all the things you think will make you happy.” Instinctively, Danny ducked. “You've been played so many times, you'd make the perfect barbie.” The sugary goodness rained down. “Pretend your life's a fairytale, the story's getting boring….”  The guitar sped up, fingers flying across the cords.
Adrenaline rushed through his veins, heart pounding a mile a minute. He sang his lungs out. “I don’t need your fantasy!” 
Beside him, Sam’s eyes shone with passion, a balled fist to the sky. “'Cause I'm gonna say, gonna say what I wanna say…” 
A cupcake nailed her in the shoulder, pink icing smearing across her shirt and face. Danny laughed, pointing. The shocked look on her face!
“…my voice. You can't take it away!”
Something chocolate brown and blue flew at his face. The half ghost flailed to catch and… 
“You can’t!”
Blue icing coated his hands. He dropped the cupcake…
“You can’t! You can’t!”
Right into Tucker’s hands. The technogeek smirked, taking a huge bite. 
Danny lost it, bursting out laughing. Mind, body, heart, and soul wrapped up, caught up in the moment. Just him and the beat. The stickiness on his hands. His grinning, screaming, laughing friends. The press of the crowd around him. The words pouring out of his mouth. 
“This is my life, my voice. You can't take it away!”
His core sang, buzzing inside him. This. This right here. It was amazing, incredible, perfect. The feeling almost euphoric. 
This is awesome! The words were more yelled in his head than thought. An almost physical thing, like throwing the idea with his mind to-
“Misery loves company, I bet you're fun at parties.” Sam’s jump sent her careening into him. “Chasing after all the things you think will make you happy!” She’s never looked so happy to be wearing pink.
The breakdown. Tucker’s flailing arm jolted his side, icing smeared around the technogeek’s  mouth.
“Now, you’ll see… I don’t need your fantasy!” With bared teeth, head raised to the sky, Danny had never felt so alive….
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The set ended with a bang, the clashing of instruments as people cheered. The three sisters left the stage. The previous soundtrack started again, so much quieter than the live music. The half ghost almost felt the crowd breath out, decompress as one of the Guardian of the Children volunteers came up to speak. The mass of people shifted, the space for moshing filling in as some snuck closer to the front and others left. Jazz and Spike drifted closer, standing right beside Danny and his friends.
Danny took a breath, whipping his sweaty forehead.
His sister laughed, giving him a knowing look.
The boy raised a brow. “I’ve got icing on my face now, don’t I?”
“Yep.” Jazz’s tone was full of teasing.
“You want some?” With a grin, the little brother swiped for her.
“Danny!” The older teen shrieked, jumping away.
“Come on! Let me give you a high five!” He reached again.
Jazz weaved, dodging. “No!”
“Come on!” Danny got her right in her face.
“Ew! It’s sticky!” The girl fished in her bag, pulling on a sleeve of wet wipes. Frustiously, she whipped at the blue frosting. “Here, you heathen.” She shoved the package at her brother.
The boy rolled his eyes but obliged, whipping his hands. It did feel nice to get the sticky feeling off them. 
A sudden screeching sound through the mic brought Danny’s attention back to the speaker. 
The older man speaking smiled sheepishly. “Got too close to the mic there. As I was saying…”
What was the man saying? Danny should probably pay attention…
The boy shuffled foot to foot, watching, listening. He was getting tired from standing here so long. And thirsty. He’d sung, and screamed, and sweated a lot. He glanced back, wanting to go get some water. But his coveted spot…
Another screech. Danny’s gaze jolted back, focus returned. The mic was giving the guy problems, huh? He watched the stage, the lights  slowly brightening in the growing darkness. It was well past sunset now. A flicker of movement below the stage caught Danny’s attention. Some thing darted by, dark and strangely formless. That was weird… 
A few more minutes and the volunteer finished speaking, leaving the stage. The soundtrack returned as the lights on the stage dimmed.
Danny’s insides fluttered, anticipation rising again. He was still tired, previous emotional high lessened. But the last band was about to come on soon! The headliner!
Beside him, Tucker shook with excitement. “Oh, man. This is gonna be awesome.”
Danny nodded. The lights shifted, spot lighting the drums. And…
“Make some noise, Amity!” Josh ran on stage, jumping. “I wanna see you on your feet!”
The music rumbled and the crowd obeyed. A roar from the background track. Josh fisted the mic and growled. “I caught you like the monster hiding under my bed. Now I’m gonna rip you right out of my head! Like a baseball to the side of the face, I’ll make you disappear without a trace.” Heads bobbed, hands raised. “The match is in my hand… The match is in my hand!” The crowd shook, starting to jump. “You’re just a paper!”
A deafening pop and sound and lights died.
“A paper tiger!” The last yelled words sounded, only audible because of how close Danny was to the stage. 
For a few more seconds, the crowd continued jumping, the band still trying to play as Josh sang without amplification . “Nothing more than a… silver tongued… liar?” 
But the movement stalled, fizzling out. The half ghost stumbled to a stop, brow furrowing in confusion. Around him the crowd started to murmur.
On stage, the guitarist closest to the trio, short cropped hair and bare faced in a tank top, stummed, no sound coming through the speaker. His head turned toward the others already gathering around the drum set. “Did we just lose power?”
The drummer shrugged. One of the lights flashed on, randomly swiveling on its display. The spotlight shone right in the short haired musician’s face. “Woah!” He closed his eyes, head jerking away. The sound echoed out. The man blinked. “Hey, the mic’s back.”
More strumming attempts. Josh tried his mic again, lowering it with a confused look. The drummer motioned to something on the laptop set up beside the kit.
The guitarist turned his attention back to the audience. “Well, that’s how you know it’s live and we’re not just playing over a recording.” He laughed, strumming his guitar and making a face. “Anyone want to hear a joke?”
Under the stage something black flickered again. Danny titled his head, brow furrowed.
“What's a vampire's favorite kind of candy?” He gave a pause for effect, murmurs of question coming from the audience. Then… "A sucker."
Around him, people chuckled lightly, several groaning at the bad joke. On stage, the man continued. “There’s more where that came from. What do….”
The words drifted over Danny’s head, unable to keep his attention. Instead, his focus was on a… weird, unnaturally dark shadow. It undulated, half-slinging-half-crawling in the recesses under the stage. 
Another electric pop. The lights swiveled.
Danny almost swore he heard laughter….
The half ghost’s head turned side to side, looking. Was… no one else really seeing this?
The creature…. The ghost (it must be another ghost, with the way his ghost sense was swirling in his throat) chuckled again, static echoing through the speakers.
A few people winced, covering their ears. “Okay, okay, no more dad jokes.”
Somehow no one was seeing the ghost. How? Other people had been able to see the Lunch Lady and Dora. Wait…. It must have been the partial invisibility like Sidney showed him. But why…
“Hey!” The word was hissed, just a hint of ghostly echo. 
Danny’s head jerked, looking for the source of the noise. His gaze scanned the crowd. For just a second, his eyes met his mother’s, her brow wrinkled in concern as she stood up. 
Then… his gaze met a wavering, ethereal figure. Johnny…
“Cut it out!” The ghostly man hissed. He drifted forward, unseen by the crowd even as he literally, intangibly floated through them. 
Danny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’m not doing anything.” He muttered hotly, earning a confused look from Tucker.
The biker ghost “What? No, not-” Another crackle cut off the word, the man covering his ears. His eyes narrowed, fixing on….
The strange embodiment of darkness. 
Oh. Danny realized 
“Cut it out, Shadow.” The man complained. “I’m actually enjoying this. Go make a kid drop their ice cream or something.”
Danny raised a brow at that last part but Johnny waved him off, attention still on the shadow.
“I’ll bring out the flashlight, man. Just you keep it up and see.” The other ghost threatened.
The living (unliving? undead?) shadow seemed to deflate. With something like a sigh, it zipped off.
The lights came back on. “Hey!” Several positive shouts came from the stage. 
“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Danny picked up the words, from the other guitarist and unamplified.
The half ghost turned his attention back to Johnny. “What was that about?” He asked quietly.
The man shrugged. “There’s a reason they call me Unlucky Johnny 13.” He motioned, waving in the general direction the shadow had gone. “Thing’s got a mind of its own.”
That… answered no questions. But the other ghost ignored Danny’s confused look, instead lifting a hand. “There you are Kitty.” His eyes lit up and in a blink, he disappeared, materializing at the green-haired woman’s side seconds later.
Danny just blinked, taking in what had just happened. That was… something.
“...feel like my ears are burning. They’re talking about me, aren’t they?” The words drew the half ghost’s attention back. The guitarist pointed his thumb at his bandmates. “I’m being voted out of the band, aren’t I?” The look was falsely aghast. “This’ll be my last show with the Protest, guys. It’s been fun.”
What the heck had he missed?
Just then, his mom tapped on his shoulder.
Danny turned jerkily, surprised. “When did you get here?”
The woman’s brow furrowed in concern. “You had a strange look on your face. Is everything alright sweetie? ”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” His eyes flickered to the two ghosts standing at the edge of the crowd. The halfa’s voice lowered, stepping closer to the woman. “There’s two ghosts, the biker couple we saw in the Realms. And this weird shadow ghost that was messing with the sound. The dude, Johnny, yelled at it to stop and it flew off somewhere.”
His mom looked in the direction his gaze had flickered. “I can’t see them.”
“I don’t think anyone else can either. Just me.” The boy shrugged. “It’s a ghost thing.”
“What are they doing?” She asked.
“Just watching the show. Johnny said they came through a natural portal and wanted to have some fun.”
Her forehead wrinkled in worry at the statement. “A natural portal again?”
“We’re good to go!” The crowd cheering interrupted Danny’s response. Josh’s words echoed. “Let’s start this again.” 
“We can talk later.” Danny had to raise his voice to be heard. Accepting a nod in response, he turned back to the front.
The band was walking off the stage, only to return moments later to cheers. 
The instruments pounded. The singer held the mic to his mouth and… “I caught you like the monster hiding under my bed….”
The song started again and Danny jumped, previous confusion and worry quickly forgotten.
“You’re just a paper! A paper tiger! Nothing more than a silver tongued liar! Paper! Paper Tiger! Incinerated by my new found fire!”
The crowd jumped and screamed. Song after song, excitement built.
Josh sang. “You may feel a change but don't be afraid.” 
“The transformation has just begun!” The short-haired guitarist quipped with a grin, pointing at the audience….
The words half-chanted. “In the freak show. In the freak show. In the freak show.” Hands flailed, shoulders shook as Danny and his friends danced.
 “Your mind will be blown away! Hey!” Each word punctuated by a fist to the sky. “Hey! Hey!” 
“Welcome to the Freakshow!” Second chorus ending, the crowd reached a fever pitch.
His heart beating in time with the music, Danny head-banged. His hair flung, dripping with sweat.
Something square and silver at the edge of his vision. Head turned, brow furrowed. His mom had her phone out, lens facing him. 
The boy snorted. Sore neck bobbing faster, he stuck out his tongue at her….
In the small break before the next song… “You’re supposed to take pictures of the band, not me!” Danny laughed…
The set forgaged on. Shredding guitars, pounding drums, screamed words. The songs were incredible. And the message in between…
“If you leave here tonight with one thing, know that you are loved so much. Do you guys understand me?” Murmurs of agreement. “So much. You have no idea.” Josh’s eyes were wide and earnest, so much conviction behind the words. “After we’re done playing tonight, we will be over at the merch tent. Please come talk to us. You are looking at four sinners so we don’t have all the answers, I promise you that. We don’t. We would love to hear your story. We’d love to pray with you. We’d love to talk with you. That’s why we’re here. That’s why all of these bands are here, why we drove hundreds of miles to be here today. To share the hope that we have in Jesus. We love you guys so so much. Come hang out with us. We’ve got a few more for you….”
Danny’s heart squeezed, something deep in him touched by the words. He didn’t know about all of this, but that offer… to be heard, to be listened to. There were plenty of things he couldn’t say but…
Another song started. By now, the almost euphoric excitement had smoothed, lessened, morphed into a more quiet, heartfelt joy. Even still, the words sent goose bumps over the half ghost’s arm.
“This is the time for life revolution
Setting a course to reclaim the broken.
We look to find those lost in the night.
Following hearts that lead like a compass
Fire will rise and we let it guide us.”
The singer leaned over the crowd and the half ghost sang, his soul pouring into each syllable. “Despite the pain, we’ll stay unbroken.” 
Each voice ringing in harmony, brown eyes and blue eyes met. Something in Danny’s chest fluttered, breathless and awed. He could never describe the feeling, not completely.  But when gazes met… belief resonated. Both meant every single word….
To cheers, the set ended. The lights dimmed as people started walking away. And for a long moment, Danny stood in front of the stage, eyes wide and heart light. That amazed feeling stirred…
“We need to get a picture!” Jazz’s hand on his shoulder drew him out of himself.
“Yeah. Go for it.” The boy smiled, letting his sister put her arm around him. 
The pair took a selfie, each with matching grins. The red-head lowered the phone. And Danny finally registered his friends and family hovering around him.
“That first band was so good!” His dad gushed. “They’re just like that band I was in in college! Good ol’ Skunk Punks! But they’ve got much better hair. And better lyrics.”
“Your strengths are in things other than lyrical composition, dear.” His mom graciously didn’t speak on the hair comment. 
Sam pulled him and Tucker across the grass. “We need to get pictures with everyone! And merch! I want one of like everything.”
“Yes! I need the GFM snapback. Their set was so good!” The technogeek laughed, pointing at the icing staining her shirt. “They got you to wear pink. And.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m the only one who didn’t get icing on them
The goth rolled her eyes but then a mischievous look passed her face. “That’s what you think.” 
“What are you- Hey!”
She swiped a glob of crusting icing from her shirt and shoved it at him. “Ha!”
“Not my beret! Sam, how could you!?”
Danny just laughed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Everyone bought merch. The Relent Ghost shirt and a wristband for GFM and The Protest for Danny. For Sam, the pink and black skateboard, a delightfully cute and creepy pink, green, and black shirt, and a bunch of CDs. (“Who even buys CDs anymore? You can just stream that.” Tucker wrinkled his nose. The goth pulled his hand down over his face. “I want to actually support the bands I like, Tucker. Spotify doesn’t deserve a cent.) The technogeek proceeded to buy his own CD and his coveted snapback.
Danny’s parents even got in on the action. Dad apparently bought a Chaotic Resemblance shirt for everyone in the family. And the famed pink leather bracelet.
Pictures were taken with every band. 
“A silly one next!” Noses were scrunched up in ridiculous expressions. Two members of the Protest pretended to be punching each other. Danny laughed more still.
Words were exchanged, excited ones about the show….
“Awesome set!” Each GFM member was offered a high five.
More casual ones, about school and interests. (Unsurprisingly Josh and co were very personable.)
“Yeah. I just started ninth grade. It’s going pretty well.” “What’s your favorite subject?” “Science. I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut…”
And somber ones.
The last band Danny got to speak to was Relent. His heart twisted, words lingering heavy on it. You should say something, a voice in him, not audible but very much present, whispered. The ghost boy listened.
“The last few months have been… really hard for me, for a bunch of reasons. But… I’ve listened to your song, Heavy a bunch of times. And it’s really helped me. Like… uhh… when I couldn’t sleep and just wanted to cry. And… yeah. I’ve listened to it alot and all your other songs so…. Thanks for writing them and putting them out. And… uh… thanks for being here tonight.”
Danny looked down, nervousness flopping his stomach.
“That’s why we write songs and tour.” The lead singer (In their introduction, Danny learned his name was Miggy.) “Like I said on stage, I hope that our songs help people. Thanks for telling me, man.” His expression softened, earnest. “Do you mind if I pray for you?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Danny’s friends and family walked back towards the GEV, the boy lingered for just a moment to look over the field. For just a second, three ghostly figures flickered into existence. Kitty and Johnny, the black shadow curled at the man’s feet, floated in front of the stage, unseen by all except the half ghost. The man nodded in his direction, lifting a cigarette-gripping hand. The green-haired woman waved.
Danny returned the gesture, lips quirking as the couple disappeared. He had a feeling he’d be seeing them again.
With the ghosts gone, the boy turned his attention back to the activity across the field. The bands were still active, packing up instruments and putting them in the vans and buses. Soon enough the stage would be torn down as well, leaving no evidence of the concert that had been here. 
Even so, the half ghost’s heavy heart felt lightened. He felt better after talking to Miggy; that had been good for him. The boy sighed. This had been an incredible night. 
Sam bumped his shoulder. “Come on. Tucker asked and your dad said he’s taking us to Nasty Burger for shakes.”
It looked like the night wasn’t over yet.
Everyone piled into the GEV and his dad pulled out, leaving the almost empty parking lot. A few minutes later found the trio sitting at a picnic table outside the restaurant, each nursing their own shake.
Chatter batted back and forth, jokes and memories. The three looked through the pictures that had been taken.
“That’s a good one! You got him mid-head bang.” Tucker pointed while he and Danny leaned over Sam’s phone, admiring a picture of Josh Bramlett with his hair spread in a halo above him.
“I love this one.” The goth swiped. This photo was of GFM’s drummer, an excited grin plastered on her face.
“Drummer pics are so hard to get! That’s awesome.” Danny congratulated.
The conversation continued on, milkshakes almost finished and… 
The half ghost sighed. “Thanks guys for being there.” 
That got him strange looks. “Dude, of course we were going to come to the show with you.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I…” Danny shook his head. He wasn’t exactly sure what prompted this line of thinking but… “I mean…. Thanks for being here for me. With the accident and then splitting myself. I know it’s been hard and you’ve been the best friends I could ask for.” He’d told them as much at Sam’s that day, when they’d convinced Phantom to talk to Fenton about re-fusing and his denial of his death. And even before that…
He blushed. “You guys are the ones who convinced Phantom me to stop denying we were the same person. You guys… you saw me.. You knew me even when I didn’t know myself. So…” He bit his lip. “Thanks for sticking with me,” There in the Hot Topic dressing room, after his ghost self had flown off… “even when I was a jerk to you guys.” 
His friends’ expressions softened. “You really don’t have to thank us, Danny. That’s what friends are for.” Sam said.
“Yeah.” Tucker smiled. “We’re your friends. Of course we’ll stick by you. You’d do the same for us.”
Danny sighed, shaking his head. “Like I said, you guys are the best.”
His best friends both reacted out. An awkward group hug… the table in the middle had just their arms touching each other, heads close together. But Danny closed his eyes, heart warm.
This really had been the best day.
End note: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it. :) As always, feel free to let me know what you liked.
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tessa-quayle · 10 months
Text
a Last of Us x Lasso masterlist
this is @jomiddlemarch​'s list.  i’m the annoying friend who will create a masterlist of a fanfic series you’ve written for The Last of Us (TV) and Ted Lasso.  sorry not sorry.  however, i will genuinely apologize for the amateur-hour board i assembled.
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@jomiddlemarch has written for multiple fandoms - she has 800+ works on AO3. she writes great fics as quickly as i make myself coffee every morning.  like how and what the fuck.  (yes I'm also the roy kent of every friend group).  she’s fucking brilliant and I felt compelled to catalog.
this loose fit crossover series reads a bit better on her AO3.  
summary: angsty slow-burn romance between Joel Miller and Grace Yang (OFC), Jackson’s town physician.  Ted Lasso AU crossover with Ted and Beard.  Ellie, Maria, Tommy are here.  In this house we love Tess.  Other original characters include Lauren (Grace’s friend) and Kian (Grace’s partner while she was at the Seattle QZ).  Set between seasons 1 and 2.  Ted bakes, Beard philosophizes.  Joel and Grace mostly banter and occasionally get down and dirty.  Ellie is Ellie.
main pairing: Joel Miller x Grace (OFC)
ratings: mostly teen or mature (3 fics are slightly explicit)
warnings/notes: grief, mourning, trauma, sexual tension, post-apocalyptic domestic life, medical stuff, mentions of food, references to music and books, oral sex and rough sex (slightly explicit), fluff, coffee shop AU (i know, but trust me it works), airport AU, one fic alludes to miscarriage, profanity 
loose (head)canon for the OFC: Grace is stubborn, weary, does no harm but takes no shit.  Firefly-adjacent during her time in the Seattle QZ.  She’d finished her medical training at the time of the outbreak, so she’d be in her 40s in Wyoming.  (I initially chose Constance Wu as a visual stand-in cause she has a great resting bitch face, IRL she hails from Virginia, and I thought that Southern connection would be nice for Texan Joel Miller but out of chaos changed my mind and opted for Canadian actress Grace Park as a face-claim - same name a coincidence - since she’s older, about the same age as Pedro, and who among us didn’t love her in Battlestar Galactica?  So say we all)
word counts: range from 1.5K-3K
links to the vignettes/chapters below the cut - some of the AO3 stories are accessible if you’re a registered user.  these do not need to be read in order. 
my happiness depends on you - AO3 -  Grace and Joel search for supplies
that might as well be the first sign of the apocalypse - AO3 Tumblr - intro to Ted and Beard in the Jackson universe
your voice is soft like summer rain - AO3 - postcoital angst
y’all know it tastes like garbage? - AO3 - Tumblr - @jomiddlemarch​ hits it out of the park with Ted’s voice in this fic - all the fucking kudos for this one 
good French cooking cannot be produced by a zombie cook - AO3 - Tumblr - Ellie cooks for Joel and Grace, chaos ensues 
but I could never love again - AO3 - Joel and Grace in a bathtub
I walk the line - AO3 - Tumblr - Joel and Grace in the wilderness 
you turned my whole world upside down - AO3 - Tumblr - Joel, Grace, and Ellie banter over beverages
what I like to call making muffins of us - AO3 - Tumblr - the coffee shop AU in which Tess conspires with Grace
turn and face the strange changes - AO3 - Tumblr - Beard speaks, and a fun and respectful nod to a brilliant fic by @laiqualaurelote​
kindness and lies are worth a thousand truths - AO3 - Tumblr - Grace fixes Joel’s dislocated shoulder.  They miss Ted and Beard’s trivia night. 
where might I be, if I were not here? - AO3 - Tumblr - Joel takes care of Grace, hurt/comfort with a side of oh-wait-the-one-bed trope
because you saw me when I was invisible - AO3 - Tumblr - no outbreak hospital AU, Joel and Grace fake-date 
it is love, not reason, that is stronger than death - AO3 - Tumblr - tfw fucking is a coping mechanism for grief (smut)
but ah, united, what reverse we have! - AO3 - Tumblr - fluff and grumpiness - Joel, Grace, Beard, and Ted play charades
and there’s no way back to where we’ve been - AO3 - Tumblr - airport AU - pre and post outbreak.  Did Joel and Grace run into one another during another lifetime? 
only true things even when she wasn’t quite sure what was true - AO3 - Tumblr - oral sex (get it, Grace) (smut)
on the cold earth under the cold sky - AO3 - Tumblr - illness and sadness.  Joel is a kind partner.  Quick mention of Sarah’s mom.
time, doing this to me, may alter too - AO3- Tumblr - when two middle aged folks engage in shower sex - tw: low back pain (smut) 
there are shadows because there are hills - AO3 - Tumblr - bittersweet angst, probably the most authentic and cathartic read you’ll have on this hellsite about these heavy topics (miscarriage, life shit).  Ellie asks Grace questions.  Grace doesn’t tell Joel.
but simply an irrevocable condition - AO3 - Tumblr - domestic lowkeyness with the whole gang: Joel, Grace, Ellie, Tommy, Maria, Ted, Beard
they do become more real - AO3 - Joel as a dad.  Comforting Ellie, referencing Sarah's mom.
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trainerlynda · 7 months
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Intro
Hello, I guess I should tell you about myself?
I'm Lynda! I'm 35 years old and bigender, going by she/her he/him.
Born the 31st of January.
I research legendary pokemon in my off time, chasing legends and rumors about new ones. I find them very fascinating!
//Current Arc: none at the moment!
//Finished Arc: Fool's Faller
My main team is
Espeon (He/Him).
Raichu (She/Her).
Charizard (pretty sure he's a clone 'zard...) (He/Him).
Sceptile (He/Him).
Greninja (He/They. Demi boy).
Hydreigon (She/Her)!
As for my champ team? You'll need to challenge me to find out~
I also have a Giratina named Oblivion (He/They/It).
I like calling him Blivie. I don't really use him in battle or keep him in his ball, but I can call on him when I need to. He has his own account! @oblivionthegiratina.
I'm married to @silveredfeathers, so no funny business, got it? Really not into flirty banter unless you're him... or @timetravelerpyrite, recently a boyfriend.
I guess I should put this here now since its out now...
The link above will tell you what I am.
Sometimes members of my team will steal my phone so-
⚡: Sparky (She also likes using Yellow for her text.)
🐱: Espie (He likes using Purple for his text (He doesn't like pink))
🦎: Riptor (He likes using Green for his text.
//Mini events that have happened/are happening.
//Shadow Creatures (A mini takeover event)
//Extra info under the cut.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
//Ooc. This is a sideblog! Unreality. Mod is an adult and goes by the same pronouns. All art I use is my own! I follow from @theshadowqueenofthedistortion ... Here's some of my other accounts as well!
//Link to her trainer card!
//Semi-Serious blog, I will participate in active silliness and also write serious stuff. Will sometimes touch on death, abuse and a few other things, I will tag the serious stuff with their appropriate tw/cw tags.
//No magic anons, Lyn has been through enough and I personally don't like them.
//I will not ship with anyone who isn't my BF (and myself, but that's a note for later), just for my comfort. Lyn's universe is a mix of pokemon and abunch of other things, if she goes to hang out with someone he'll likely go there with a portal.
//I am very open to crossover stuff! My character in herself is rather crossovery and his universe has dimensional travel, her world is separate from others and Giratina like screwing around with that (Palkia? Whos that? /j)
//Pokemon in his universe have human levels of sentience, however she is aware of places that have Pokemon that aren't sentient, so he won't find that odd.
//Real life animals exist along side Pokemon in her universe, like divergent evolution (not the pokemon thing, the science thing)
//I don't bite! (But my character might-)
//What the tags mean.
//Shadow Mod Speaks: Mod speaking.
Random Lynda Rambles: Lynda just saying random things, non serious tag, silliness encouraged.
//It is now Lyn Chats.
Lore Crumbs: Me sprinkling little tasty crumbs as a treat (Lynda info).
//Not used much anymore
//Mod Reference: Me and/or Zorana making references for Lyn and/or Silver.
//Shadow Art: Art by me that isn't a ref/finished.
Shifting Explorer: Closed and/or serious RP. I will also use this tag when responding seriously to something.
Espie the Espeon: For ease of finding Espie's posts.
Sparky the Dancing Rai: For ease of finding Sparky's posts.
Riptor the Great Gecko: For ease of finding Riptor's posts.
Oblivion the Distorted: For ease of finding Oblivion's posts.
Icy Apathy (Daniel): Daniel posts
Whirlpool Emotions (Jade): Jade Posts
Shocking Chaos (Crackle): Crackle Posts
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
//To do: Make a important pokemon list, make a general info background thing for Lyn (like those wiki pages for celebrities), make a public ref sheet for Lyn and her Pokemon (4/7 done), write out a public history thing for Lynda and @silveredfeathers (With help from Zorana (Silver's mod), again like those dumb wikis), get the courage to talk to other people (ongoing) /lh
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tomwambsmilk · 1 year
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Okay I need to Process before I dive into Discourse. But. Initial thoughts to come back to in more detail later:
the Colin + Logan scene is really interesting. Logan as a character is really, really interesting in this episode. There's a lot to unpack with "What is a person", and there's also a lot to unpack with his discussion of whether there's an afterlife. We know he was raised Catholic, and the way he talks about the afterlife strikes me as someone who doesn't want there to be an afterlife because he knows he's going to hell. I think things like the "roasting" scene (which had me in HYSTERICS) drive that home too. He's starting to become aware of his own rottenness, and his own mortality..... where does that leave him?
that tomshiv scene is going to kill me. the hand-holding.... they really do love each other. they really do. And I appreciate Succession making that so explicit at the begininng, before they start slinging mud. I think that's a really important foundation to lay for everything that comes next. There's a lot more to unpack but that deserves its own post.
"so this is it" is very very funny like. we've seen the trailers we know this is Not It At All
Tom being so visibly uncomfortable at the label of "disgusting brothers" is also interesting, especially since he's the one who came up with it. He seems to be in this strange space where he both wants to move on and wants to fix his marriage at the same time, and I think you can see that conflict in how he interacts with Shiv in this episode
TOGAN SO SO REAL WE FUCKING CALLED IT GUYS there will be an update to the togan fic because???????? holy shit
On a more serious note I do actual wonder if the divorce would hurt Tom's standing with Logan, NOT because Logan cares about Shiv but because he wants to use Tom to get at Shiv
the weeks ahead trailer seems to indicate tomshiv will be even more central to this season than it has been before, and that's a fascinating development I very much like. I think its thematically resonant. More on that later.
also tomgreg threesome reference..... I know that was just shiv trying to be nasty but. hmmmmmmm.
Tom also seemed genuinely mad at Greg having sex lmfao
Very disappointed the Naomi thing turned out to be business because when it happened I wrote "tomken by proxy???????" in my notes
There's a lot going on with Shiv that's very revealing but when she said "I have to look out for myself bc no one else will" so casually like that......... babygirl :( More on Shiv later.
there's a whole portion of my notes that's just variations on "GREG NOOOOOOOO" and "GREG STOPPPPPP". just thought you guys should know that.
also gregs gay dad canon reference????? they didnt forget about him guys!!!!!!!
date count: its been 3 months since the season 3 finale, and its 10 days until the election
All in all I think that was a really solid premiere. It gives us a lot of info about where everyone's at, but was genuinely engaging in its own right, which can be hard to do when you have so much exposition to throw out there. I've talked before about succession's economical storytelling and I think there were some great examples of it here which I might get into later
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cookieek · 5 months
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So, like many others I sat down to watch the recent hbomberguy video, and watching it has made me think back to about how I’ve handled my folklore inspiration for wayward.
Notably that I ended up taking heavily inspiration from the illustrations by Katarina Strömgård in Per Gustavssons (2006) ”Sägenresan” when it came to the designs for the skogsrå, Snurra, and the sjörå. (Pictured bellow, Strömgårds illustrations to the left, my sketches to the right)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I did not do this with the intent of plagiarism, I know that I mentioned getting inspired by illustrations from a folk lore book in one of my authors notes for Wayward and that I did share Strömgårds illustrations of the troll drawing that inspired snurra and the sjörå on the red shoes discord and mentioning that I used them as inspiration (I could only find me mentioning the illustration for the skogsrå on the discord server when I went looking, I had to find the actual picture from the dms with another person in the server). However I do feel that I might not have been clear enough about this inspiration, and that looking back I, possibly out of some form of laziness, did at the very least not do enough with the characters in my sketches to visually distinguish them from the designs pictured in Strömgårds work, especially when it comes to the Skogsrå.
I doubt that Strömgård will ever see this, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it, and I’m planning to edit the posts that features the characters to link to this post in order to give proper credits to the artist who was at the heart of those designs. Sägenresan and it’s illustrations has been with me since I was a child, it’s hard not to feel disappointed in myself, and I am sorry.
If you’re curious about Strömgårds work, then I recommend looking at her website (where she’s got coloured versions of some of the books illustrations for a recent web project under the same name as the book by Gustavsson!):
She also has an instagram under the handle strmgrd!
I should at this point also note that unless I was taking inspiration from stories told by my mom or just general ideas of folklore that I’ve heard while growing up, a big source for the folklore bits in wayward which I talk about in the authors notes for the chapters is Per Gustavssons (2006) “Sägenresan”, though I did not always reread the stories from it in question. And though I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned that the herbal magic in wayward was inspired by stories from a childrens flora book, I figure I should be more clear and reference to it as Bissa Falk och Lena Kallenbergs ”Barnens flora” and ”Barnens flora 2” (both of my copies of these books are missing their copyright page so I can’t say their specific release date for sure, but I do know the original editions seemed to have been published 1982 and 1983 as those are the dates given to the first editions of the work on Libris, Alex.se and worldcat (though worldcat only seemed to have the first book of the two and the edition which collects the books into one)). When I get the time I’ll try to go through the authors notes for Wayward to make sure these are given their proper credit, and I’m sorry for not doing that before. Also, when I’m already on the topic, please don’t take Edda using real life herbs in for the healing magic as health advice, and if you decide to get into herbal medicine then I beg you to be safe about it, understand it’s limits and just go to the doctor of you’re dealing with something serious. There are many quacks out there, many dangerous ideas and ‘cure-alls’ that at best doesn’t work and at worst are actively harmful. Saint john’s wort will not cure your cancer.
Finally, when I’m already here I should also mention that an notable inspiration for even considering the regency au that eventually became “A Lord and Lace” was sboochi’s Bridgerton inspired Regency au drawings. I realised I was never really open about that and that made me feel a bit scummy, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that this isn’t the fun superhero au synopsis, but when this landed in my mind I really felt like I had to say something about it. I’ll try to get the synopsis out soon, I am still sick, but it seems to be on it’s way out, I hope, either way I hopefully will have that post out sometime next week. And again, I’m sorry for my sloppy work.
I hope everyone nonetheless have a good day.
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tori-artemis · 2 years
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I don't usually make posts when I'm upset about something (or like, at all) but honestly I'm just. Really sick of the Loki fandom as a whole. Like I'm just tired of all the pettiness and bullshit. And tbh it's on both ends of the Loki series/Ragnarok split. Both pros and antis.
This isn't so much a vague post as it's a vent post for me. You see, I've been having these feelings about the Loki fandom overall for months now, and I've seen certain posts from the positive side where I just want to - jump in and say something, or at least speak for myself as an ""anti"" (hate that word btw) bc the amount of generalizing I've seen that goes on over there wrt ppl who dislike the show is just - well it's fucking frustrating. Like it annoys me bc I've heard every dumb overgeneralization since the show first came out, from not wanting Loki to move on bc we're oh-so-traumatized to we're just bitter bc the show didn't go the way we wanted/our hcs of Loki weren't validated, etc.
I think one that annoyed me the most was the claim that ppl who hate/dislike Sylvie as a character do so out of misogyny. And like - maybe there's some truth there wrt how the character/actress tend to be bombarded with gendered slurs, and yes that's not cool, but I've never referred to Sylvie or Sophia as any slur. (In fact I don't even hate Sylvie - what I do hate is how the writers have set her up as a "superior" contrast to Loki, which to me seems very intentional on their part, particularly wrt the Trauma Olympics™ as in "Sylvie had it so much harder" 🙄 - but I digress). Yet I can't help but feel like I'm being lumped in the "antis are misogynists" bin every time I read any of those posts from the pro side, simply bc I dislike the way a character was utilized. The way those posts are written, the way they sound - it's very black and white, overgeneralizing an entire group of fans, there's no nuance or side notes or disclaimers of "hey - I know not all of y'all are like this, this is just about some I've encountered" - not even in the tags, nothing. And I've just wanted so badly to jump in and say: "hey, anti here and I'm not like that" but I refrain, bc I've grown so tired of all the fandom infighting and discourse that I usually don't have the energy to get into it. So when I see someone from that side of fandom jump on a post and say how they dislike being overgeneralized as a fan, and how they feel like they're being misrepresented, or condescended to... I can't help but feel kinda upset by that, ngl. Part of me just wants to say "yes it sucks, but recognize that your side (if not you yourself) does it too. Some of you folks do it too."
Like I've read posts implying/stating that antis who hate the show lack critical thinking skills - and like, look, there might be a bit of truth wrt, say, calling Sylvie an outright abuser (and even I've been a little guilty of agreeing to view her as a person with toxic traits as opposed to the enemy-to-lovers trope she clearly falls into - tho I still can't really fault myself for not being able to take that romance seriously due to how damn rushed and forced it felt - but that's besides the point). But there's just something about the way a lot of these posts are worded, like yes some posts are pretty reasonable, but others are practically dripping with condescending sentiment (for lack of better words) as if we're fucking stupid for having emotional reactions to media as opposed to critical reactions, when isn't that the point of media and art, to illicit emotions? Like yes, the story might be trying to say something (and it might epically fail in doing so, which is how I view the show overall) but it's also meant to move ppl. And if it fails to do so, or it garners an unintended reaction, or the characterization is too inconsistent or the story telling itself is rushed/filled with inconsistencies then can you really blame fans for, well, being blindsided by disappointment/their emotions as opposed to critically analyzing it? And yes I know this is a matter of opinion, but still.
(Like sometimes a story can be extremely well written overall, and very well thought out and fans will just be oblivious to, choose to ignore or even outright refuse to pick up on the symbolism within a story, or the internal motivations/conflicts within a character, or how a character progresses/character arcs in general. Sometimes fans will even completely and intentionally misread a character in their entirety, and the role they play within a story, no matter how skilled and how excellent the writing is within a piece of art. And sometimes fans will just overall fail to realize the major themes/hints that a writer carefully lays out. Yes this is a thing, and one I've been made aware of in the particular fandom that I'm about to join.)
But then there's stories that are just... lazily/half-heartedly written at best, and so I just don't understand where pro stans get off by being condescending to ppl like me who just couldn't be immersed due to all those flaws in storytelling. Especially when I didn't get enough out of it to even see where a lot of these conclusions fans seem to have drawn from it. Like there are some inconsistencies within the story itself, there are things that just don't make a whole lot of sense, there are many contradictions, I didn't just make them up. And again I know, everyone interprets media differently, but I don't really see what a lot of pro fans have taken from the series, bc I personally don't think its there. And I really don't appreciate being thought of as some kind of imbecile for not "getting it" when the media in question is, objectively... not all that great tbh. And I'm being absolutely neutral when I say that, like I'm literally not even hating here.
And like I could've easily have turned around and made a bunch of posts stating how pro fans are "stupid" for putting so much thought into a piece of media I personally find to be stupid or just lacking in general, but I haven't. Bc one: that's a shitty thing to do to ppl, and two: it wouldn't even be true bc so many ppl who I consider very intelligent have enjoyed this show, and do put a lot of thought into analyzing it, so despite me not really seeing where they're coming from I want to respect that. And look, it's not like I haven't had those presumptuous thoughts or knee jerk reactions, bc yeah I am in an echo chamber too, and I'm no saint - I'm definitely human and I've had some overgeneralized, uncharitable takes. But I recognize this about myself, I don't post that shit. Which is why I get so upset when I see so many other fans do just that.
Also there is a definite misuse of the depiction of torture, which is used to convey certain themes, and that's very unfortunate, and IMO very bad writing/storytelling. I probably would've been a little more charitable towards the series overall if the Sif-beatdown timeloop scene had been scrapped altogether like the writers seriously should've considered doing (due to the fact that torture has so many misconceptions and is grossly excused in the majority of media which has unfortunate real world consequences) and instead focus more on Loki confronting his fear of being alone, if that truly is what the intention for that scene was. Like yes, some antis might go overboard wrt the messaging within the show, but when it comes to things like the atrocious time loop scene... that's not a made up thing we just happen to pull out of nowhere, that's something the writers put in there and therefore, yeah that's pretty fucked.
Then on the other side I'll find myself liking a post from a negative series fan bc I'll agree with the overall sentiment of it, only to unlike it right after reading the tags bc they've said something like "ppl who like this show/movie/etc are stupid" or "if you ever defended or even enjoyed TR fuck you" - and like??? WTF. I understand disliking the show or whatever but why the hell would you brush over an entire group of real, actual people as "idiots" for simply liking a piece of media??? Like - do I think the show was a disjointed mess? Yeah, I do. Do I think it was poorly written? Yes. Do I even think the reasoning behind a lot of these writing decisions was really fucking stupid on the creators part (or at the very least, that they failed to convey their ideas clearly)? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean anyone who's ever enjoyed the show is stupid for doing so, and I say this as someone who does have the knee-jerk reaction to go "how could you like that show, it sucked so much!"
But like, at the end of the day I understand that ppl take different things out of media. And just bc you find something so stupid or unwatchable, doesn't mean others will, and that's okay bc ppl are different and have different tastes and IDK how ppl don't fucking get that??? Like why is this even a hot take when it's literally just a fact???
It's shit like this that makes me feel like leaving the fandom all together. Which I don't really want to do, bc despite everything wrong with fandom and despite my own personal disappointment with the latest Loki/Thor franchise installments I still really love Loki as a character, and I still want to write fic revolving him. I even still want to make friends within the Loki fandom bc that's literally why I created this blog in the first place, to befriend other Loki fans, like I could've easily stayed being a lurker within the fandom but regardless I think at this point it's farfetched to want this bc the fandom's just way too split and way too hostile and way too fucking eager to be uncharitable and condescending af. And I'm just tired. I'm just... really really tired of the pettiness, the condescending attitude a lot of fans seem to fucking have for anyone who might think differently from them.
I'm tired of the gatekeeping - on both sides. It's on both sides. Because saying "real Loki fans would never like/defend TR/the show" and "how anyone can claim to be a Loki fan if they hate him/his own show" aren't so far apart from each other, both sentiments basically say the same thing, just from polarized viewpoints.
And I wish more fans would just recognize that.
#Loki fandom negativity#I refuse to tag this as anything else bc this isn't about the show - it's the fandom#look I'm just tired guys#I've been fed up and sick of all the damn fucking pettiness#Maybe I'm being overdramatic here#But in my defense I too am in the middle of experiencing that time of the month...#(I swear this isn't so much about that particular post as it is about all the other posts and nonsense I've seen#and the disappointment I've had with fandom that's just been pent up inside of me)#I know ppl follow me who are really entrenched in the negativity side who might take offense to this#And while I'm not really trying to offend anyone here I don't really want to go on pretending that I'm not kinda upset by all the -#posts and hot takes and hate bashing of fans/folks who might've actually enjoyed the show - bc yeah I hate that damn show too#but I can't help but feel disappointed when ppl start calling folks ''idiots'' and whatnot for enjoying a piece of media#THIS IS A BOTH SIDES ISSUE AND IM FUCKING TIRED OF IT#ALL OF YOU (GENERALLY) FUCKING GATEKEEP THE FANDOM#BOTH CONDESCEND THE OTHER SIDE AND ITS. FUCKING SHITTY#NO IM NOT A MISOGYNISTIC IDIOT WHO'S INCAPABLE OF CRITICALLY ANALYZING A MEDIOCRE/SUBPAR SHOW#AND NO JUST BC I HATE THE SHOW DOESNT MEAN I WANT TO HATEBASH ANYONE WHO ENJOYED IT#PPL ARENT IDIOTS OR STUPID FOR LIKING/DISLIKING A PIECE OF MEDIA FFS#like even discussing with some friends on discord is frustrating when they say things like ''i judge ppl who like the show''#like no. stop doing that shit. dont condescend others like that#if anyone seeing this feels offended and wants to block/unfollow thats okay#ive already made another blog focusing on a completely different fandom#so im probably going to be dipping out of here soon anyway#i just wanted to get this off my chest before doing so#also i know there are some cool ppl here on both sides/in the middle but im just done#i said i wasnt going to talk about the show but then i just went and did so#loki series criticism i guess#might as well title this post 'How to lose friends and alienate loki fans'#tldr: everyone (generally) in this damn fandom is fucking petty and IM TIRED
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