Tumgik
#they used more tiny repetitions within scenes which i think is cool)
Video
youtube
not exactly flashy but it is pretty fast, like, 2-4 clips per second
inspiration (in music, style, theme even, accidentally, i basically copied the whole thing)
so i melted all the words in my thasmissy fic, added yazs sexual awakening and whipped it until it formed peaks, carefully folded in the doctor’s childhood trauma, added a pinch of missys whole situation with clara, poured it all into my video editor and i baked it for two weeks at whatever temperature my laptops processor gets when i run premiere. this is the result, entitled: With The Power Of The Kuleshov Effect I Can Make Thasmin Kiss
the story of this fic is that yaz and 13 travelling after revolution at some point run into missy because lo and behold one of missys doctor-catching traps actually works and she has successfully lured in a doctor. too bad it’s the wrong one.
when 13 realises this is missy circa s9, pre-vault times, she gets it into her pretty little traumatised head that if she reforms this missy, then the doctor falls doesnt happen, the master doesnt happen, gallifrey doesnt happen, she can get her friend back and undo the destruction of gallifrey, and maybe even unknow the things shes learnt about the timeless child
obviously this is 1) incredible ‘your control freakiness is making you disrespect your friends’ autonomies and also is gonna get you all hurt’ behaviour, and 2) a very bad idea because rewriting not just your own personal timeline but also the master’s and also yaz’s (and bill’s and nardole’s, like a ‘how many of your friends can you hurt at once’ bingo and shes winning) is gonna result in some very unsustainable and very painful paradoxes. which she cant tell yaz or missy about because they’d get rightfully mad for starters and also because neither of them know Anything about s10. so 13 is like ‘im gonna quietly suffer as i try to rewrite the last century and a half of my life’ in some clara-like mindset of “i am owed”
she doesnt deserve it but she is owed. she wants these people in her life. and shes sick of losing. so shes just gonna take what she wants.
so vault times 2.0, which is actually 1.0 for missy and shes not actually in a vault shes just hanging out with them in the tardis, basically skipping the first 70 years of the vault times bc she proves herself in the first chapter by stepping in front of yaz as shes about to get shot (was this on purpose? nobody’s sure). the doctor is still as distant as they were during the vault times. for reasons of traumatised and also it hurts to rewrite your timeline so shes Not Feeling Great and ALSO because cant accidentally let missy know what shes doing if they touch and she reads her mind.
thats whats happening, but thats not actually what the fic is about. because we’re in yaz’s pov. she has no idea about all of the doctor’s great life choices until the end when it explodes in all their faces. so what the fic is actually about is yaz having realised shes in love with the doctor but not knowing what that means, and by lack of any help from the doctor to figure out what it means, she turns to the only other person available, who is also in love with the doctor so thats great, but it’s the worst love you can imagine so thats less great. nothing good comes of any of this.
im not sure i will finish this fic but since making this video i got less stuck on it so i have hope. needs a lot of editing though so we’ll see. in the meantime have the film adaptation.
it’s about the stuff that gets stuck in our body that we cant touch, it’s about the intermingling of pleasure and pain, desire and disgust, it’s about the crossed wires and situations where youre not sure you can leave but also not sure you want to and whats the chicken and whats the egg there. it’s about unravelling ourselves like timelines unravel, with lots of blood and guts and ghosts, not pretty and not painless and not knowing what we’ll be at the end of it. it’s about all the things we havent told ourselves.
there are two versions, one with dialogue one without, because i think i managed to convey the story with just images very well, i did it with dialogue too, as well as with them combined. and i think you can see different things when the dialogue is off. like really appreciate the kuleshov in certain moments you know? i just like both versions so you get them both. bon appétit
youtube
editor’s commentary 1: intro
editor’s commentary 2: shame
editor’s commentary 3: the gay part
4.1 repeated clips: stake & snake
#I AM SO PROUD OF THIS ONE#i realised such new depths of what putting two images next to each other can Really do! like!#i watch videos that i think are great sometimes for inspiration but i cant really like. dissect what exactly works so well about them?#im not super good at that. i just watch them and hope to pick up the vibes recreate them intuitively later#(this video’s inspiration had a very distinctive style thats easy to copy though. i didnt entirely.#they used more tiny repetitions within scenes which i think is cool)#but one thing i can identify is match cuts bc theyre like the easiest thing to identify. theyre very easy to see happen. and they look cool!#so i look for them when im making videos too. there are a few in this one. like yaz missy and 13 all turning to their right our left at 0:46#or like in the ‘on my command’ video where i matched yaz and 13 walking down the atropos stairs. that creates meaning too#but what i really really learned with this video is that the most meaning is created in CONTRAST#the bigger the difference the more meaning springs up between two shots#like in the first 20 seconds. the difference in emotion between each shot is really what creates the meaning there i think#it’s like. 13: dont leave. yaz+13:happy. 13: youre not leaving? 13: dont ask me questions i dont want to answer. 13: youre not leaving?#13: DONT ask me questions i dont want to answer. yaz: i want more time with you. 13: dont leave me. yaz: frustrated.#13: anticipating disappointing.#it’s the interplay between those shots that creates SO MUCH MEANING. it’s not about matching them. emotionally or visually#(although i think matching visually but contrasting emotionally might be super potent? should try that sometime)#it’s about the difference. the further apart two moments lie the more meaning springs up between them when you connect them#i guess this is like rule 1 in any art that definition lies in contrast but i had a lot of fun learning that with this video#and IM SO GLAD I FINISHED IT#im so so happy with it#and if i start having ideas again someone spritz me with a water bottle like a naughty cat asjdkhjgh#i cant do this again (i say while already having started the next video in my head rip)#also let me know if theres interest in a directors commentary?#or editors commentary i guess technically?#i could probably talk for ages about all the meaning and Intentions i stuffed into this video#but idk if that'd be interesting or if everyone would just be like 'yeah. DUH. we can See That'#so idk let me know if that would be interesting. no promises tho. maybe i have nothing more to say about it all. maybe ive said it all#thasmissy
66 notes · View notes
teeterarting · 3 years
Text
here's a list of things i love about PSMD for no reason other than i think it deserves appreciation (spoilers)
the hero gets adopted by a nuzleaf. Hero, a young child that doesn't know why they were brought into this world, attacked by beheeyem, scared and alone, finds someone that takes them under his wing and gives them a home. it's really sweet that once Nuzleaf brings them to the Village, Hero's not alone anymore.
yes it was all a trick, he deceived you. but being betrayed by your father figure hits so much harder. it's much more personal, especially when both Hero and Partner are kids. and when Nuzleaf goes through all that ordeal in the post game, then gets accepted back into the village?? And his little speech to Hero????? it's heartbreaking and incredibly touching at the same time
everything is just so cute!!!! you go to school with your new friendo and you're friends with the schoolkids, and you make the trip to school every morning taking in the scenery, the smell of dew and fresh grass, and the sun on your face... and you take classes about Mystery Dungeon mechanics, and principal Simipour is a big BRO, the school nurse Audino is super kind and helpful... and you get to play with your pokemon friendos in summer vacation, and explore a dungeon with 'em... AND your bond with your Partner begins to form, getting stronger and stronger from then on. PSMD's beginning arc is so warm and pleasant, it's like reliving childhood memories all over again, when things were happier and you didn't have to worry about how cruel the world is. this story section's one purpose is to get the player used to the game's mechanics, as well as foreshadowing. unfortunately most of the school kids get forgotten later on, but I still love this part for everything it is, even if unintentional.
it's not just the beginning that's cute. PSMD'S ENTIRE WORLD IS ADORABLE. It's just filled with life every town you go. there are a bunch of pokemon locals and they all have interesting things to say, in the main story and the post-game. there's a point where their comments get repetitive, but that's bound to happen in any PMD game. Even then, the days are never the same. one morning you wake up and the Lively Town locals are exercising, then the next they're having singing lessons, and then they're practicing martial arts. and you get to connect with (or recruit) some of them just by.... chatting!!! Sitting next to that big ol' venusaur and sharing stories, laughing and having fun. it's good stuff.
Sometimes you find travelling pokemon in dungeons and it's jsut the coolest thing. Imagine you're exploring a dungeon, then your Connection Orb notifies you there's a fellow explorer in the floor. First thing you do is try to find them, and when you do - oh dang a travelling Archeops!!!! And then they just,,,, exchange their experiences and thoughts on exploration and how hard it is to fend off those enemies and the cool treasure they found the other day (the game calls it "[Team Name] and [Traveller pokemon] compared notes"). then the traveller heals you, fills your belly and restores your PP. and they go on their way. idk man it's such a cute interaction. explorers chatting, empathizing and helping each other, bc their job is not an easy one...
PSMD Partner is the most developed Partner in any PMD game yet. They start off as this naive, hyperactive kiddo, then stuff happens, and worse stuff happens, and you get to see how they grow and change and by the end they're a different person than they were before (in more than one way ...). It's just so nice to be by their side, from the beginning to the bitter end, and watch their growth. in contrast, Hero is a little unbalanced in that their backstory is not explored as much, and their personality is kind of a blank - probs meant to be vague so the player can be in their shoes. to me this just gives you the opportunity to shape their character however you want, so you can have tons of different hero/pardner dynamics.
The music is rlly flippin' good. Some of the tracks are recycled from previous entries, but when they go original??? it's a blast!!! "Echoes of the Mystical Forest" is one of my favorites in all four entries, it has no right being so amazing for a random dungeon. "Time to Set Out" makes me cry immediately (also i think it would be a better fit for the parting ways scene at the end...). Don't even get me started on "Second Dark Matter Battle", it has everything an epic climax needs and MORE. the Partner remix????? absolute genius
speaking of which, Dark Matter ITSELF,, is freaking amazing. Its actions were foreshadowed in the very beginning, though they were not blatant through the game. i do think they could have done a better job at showing the pokemon's negativity raising in the world, as well as negative feelings in the characters... but it's not like Gates did a good job at it, either (outside of cutscenes, all the locals in Post Town are incredibly nice to you and fights didn't "break out often". it's like the game tells you the world is a dark place, but what it shows in gameplay doesn't add up). so i'll cut them some slack. Still, I find Dark Matter a more compelling villain than the Bittercold for several reasons. it is sentient. its speech is a jumbled amount of voices all talking at the same time - the anguished voices of the world. It actually concocted a plan to hurl the planet into the Sun, using pawns like Nuzleaf and Yveltal to do its dirty job. in the Voidlands, Hero and Partner discover its past, and how it'll come back after defeat, like a cycle. when Partner accepts Dark Matter, they accept negative feelings as something everyone has within themselves. Most of all, the fact that Dark Matter is a manifestation of negative feelings doesn't make it just a generic threat, a final obstacle to be defeated so the world can be saved. It makes Dark Matter - negativity itself - a natural part of the world, the yin to its yang. and that's why I LOVE IT SO MUCH DANG IT EVEN THANKS PARTNER FOR THEIR ACCEPTANCE
The fact that Dark Matter can possess pokemon that have "even the smallest amount of darkness in their hearts". it makes me think of Mr. Nuzleaf and what he might have gone through in the past to make him so easy to be controlled. Did he hold a grudge against someone?? Did he commit a crime?? Had Nuzleaf always been malicious???? And if so, is this why he shows so much remorse in the post-game??????? because he had always been this vile fiend and then he met this small kid and got attached, but still carried on with his evil actions because his malice was still stronger than the positive feelings and Dark Matter's hold on him intensified?????? I don't know!!!! and as much as i wish the game could have given us that sweet mr. Nuzleaf backstory, it's pretty fun to have freedom to come up with your own version.
Everything about Super's climax is just phenomenal. Every single flippin' legendary is there to help you. Arceus is in the game. MEWTWO IS THERE. and when things are looking hopeless, they really seem hopeless. First the Tree of Life is dying, then your allies get turned into stone and sent to hell The Voidlands, Arceus gets turned into stone, the entire world is stone (except for several mon' that are still safe and holding onto hope, but they're so few). Your Harmony Scarves stop working and you and your Partner are back to your feeble, basic stage forms. You are bordering exhaustion, you have no Emeras, it's just you and your Partner against an eldritch abomination that's killing the life on the entire planet like a parasite, devouring all hope. but you still fight back. Given how adults in the game always discourage the village children from going adventuring, that they cannot do this or that because they're so little and fragile, it's awesome how Hero and Partner beat Dark Matter as tiny kids.
PSMD is not a flawless game. in fact there's plenty of things that hold it back and i even mentioned some... but it's still full of love put into it and it resonates w me more than PMD Explorers of T/D/S and Gates to Infinity (Rescue Team is a close second). its my all-time favorite PMD game.
302 notes · View notes
entishramblings · 3 years
Text
The Color of Periwinkle [Legolas X Aragorn]
Tumblr media
A.N: the first part of this fic is 100% completely utterly platonic (no matter what)....the rest of it, however, you may decide for yourself
Request: anon — May I request a one-shot where Legolas is sleeping (recovering from an injury and is in Imladris) and Aragorn is sitting next to him, watching over him and like braiding a strand of his hair??? tooth rotting fluff please!!! Thank you xoxo
and
anon — Aloha! can i request a legolas x argorn oneshot where Aragorn is braiding flowers into legolas's hair? FLuff please!!! Love your previous works! keep it up<3
Pairing: Legolas X Aragorn
Summary: The three times Aragorn braids Legolas’s hair
Word Count: 2,075
Warnings: angst, fluff, cuteness, some wounds/injury
(gif not mine)
MASTERLIST | AO3
The Woodland Prince had come to Rivendell to deliver a message from his father and opted to stay for a couple days. Hence, the elf currently stood upon a long winding balcony letting his gaze linger amongst the breeze of Imaldris, for it had been long since he last visited.
It was quite pleasant; he never got much time to observe the beauty of nature when he was at Mirkwood. Therefore, Legolas let his senses become captivated by his surroundings. His vision was ensnared with the purple, red, and orange leaves that were just beginning to fall from the swaying trees. His nose was engrossed in the fresh air that had started to cool as the colors of the sun begun to fade. And his ears were preoccupied by the hushed breaths and faint giggles of a child.
A soft smirk tugged at Legolas’s lips for the child was indeed not aware that Legolas knew of his presence. But, how could the Mirkwood Prince not be conscious of the little spying creature? After all, elves had quite incredible abilities.
Once the the next muffled laugh sounded, Legolas finally turned his head to look; and it was then when he caught the gaze of the curious eyes observing him from behind the corner of a wall.
The elf couldn’t withhold the urge to play with the little one, for it was quite obvious that is what the child wanted and, quite frankly, it was adorable. Besides, it had been some time since there were children running around the Woodland Realm.
Legolas moved from his spot and poked his head around the side of the stone—only to startle the human.
Human?
Quite strange.
The soft smile and gentle gaze of the Mirkwood Prince seemed to assure the child that he was in no danger for he did not back away.
“What is your name, little one?”
Inquiring eyes they were, pooled with the silver of shining metal and periwinkle buds, as they gazed upon the blonde Prince. Yet the child did not speak so Legolas opted to do so.
“I am Legolas. I come from the Woodlands to visit with Elrond.”
The dark haired boy’s expression changed at the mention of Elrond, clearly recognizing the person they spoke of. This common figure among them seemed to initiate trust within him for he spoke, all worries left behind. “Estel is what they call me.”
Legolas smiled in response before speaking, “Won’t you walk with me, Estel? Perhaps we might come across Elrond; he is quite fun to play pranks upon.”
Estel grinned at his sentence. “How would you know he is fun to trick?”
The Mirkwood Prince glanced down at the boy with a raised brow and spoke with a teasing tone. “Because I was the one who used to do it!”
Surprising the elf so, Estel reached up and took his hand. The two began to stroll around the paths of Imaldris, talking of the various escapades and antics that they had let loose upon the Lord of Rivendell.
By the time the pair of pranksters had made it inside, the clouds in the sky had been replaced with twinkling stars.
Legolas chose to sit on the floor by the fire in the library, for he supposed the little human might be cold. And indeed Estel joined him.
The intrusive little hands of the boy reached for Legolas’s hair.
“May I braid it?” He asked. “Arwen has been teaching me!”
A light chuckled left the Mirkwood Prince’s lips for he could not hold it back. “I suppose you may, but do not tangle it for I cannot face Elrond with a bird’s nest of hair....again.”
Estel released a bright laugh at the elf’s words and begun to weave the golden strands together.
It was after a long plait was completed, resembling that of a fish’s tail, that Lord Elrond stumbled upon the pair. Yet, he could not bring himself to force the boy to go to sleep for the scene before him was just too pure.
......
Over the years, Legolas had visited Rivendell often—often for an elf that is. Sometimes Estel was there and other times he was not. However, the child had grown up of sorts. Now, a man with stubble and a ranger with blade he had become. Strong and lean—built with muscles and hours of training.
Estel had still remained close with Legolas. The elf was one of the first ones he told of his true heritage and they spent much time together. The Mirkwood Prince would come with him on various scouting missions and even taught him how to use a bow. However, it was not always as easy. It was clear to the elf that Estel finding out his true heritage and what happen to his kin took a toll. He became quite reckless. He would dive into fight after fight, abandoning logic and discipline. But Legolas would keep a careful eye on him; yet his gaze could not always be spared from his royal duties. It was one of these times that the young dunedain was too rash.
Legolas had been making his way to Rivendell and, quite frankly, it was only luck that he stumbled across the bloodied plane when he did. A scouting trip appeared to have gone terribly wrong. Bodies of orcs and rangers alike littered the grass—staining the forest floor with death. Among all of the carnage, stood one man with a sword of red.
“Aragorn?” Legolas called out in worry as he dismounted his horse.
The man’s head snapped in the direction of the voice. “Legolas?” He called out in surprise.
The elf, quick on his feet, made his way to the center. “What happened?”
Aragorn shook his head in response.
Legolas clenched his jaw, “Did you move in too quickly? Did you scout ahead in advance? Did you—“
The man cut him off with a sharp irritated tone, “Enough! Do not chastise me.”
The elf breathed hot air from his nose, “Aragorn, men have died.”
“You think I do not know that?!” His rough voice grated out.
Legolas sighed, “I am just—“
The elf stopped speaking and whipped his head around as his elvish ears picked up the sound of a plucking bow. The following whistling of an arrow did not escape his attention either. Instead, it showed him the target.
Estel.
Legolas jumped forward just as the sharpened weapon was to thud into Aragorn’s chest. Rather than finding a home in the ranger’s heart, it buried itself into the elf’s shoulder.
“Legolas!” Aragorn hollered.
But it was too late.
The elf cried out as pain ruptured through his arm.
Another arrow came whizzing at the two, yet it just missed them.
“We must go!” Aragorn yelled as he pulled Legolas back to his horse.
As the elf struggled to climb upon the steed, Aragorn grasped his friend’s bow and let loose a couple arrows in the direction from which they came.
Curse words tumbled from his lips as it seemed he had not met his mark for more came back to him.
Hopping up behind the elf, he urged the horse to make hast.
They were quick to escape immediate death but that was not a solution, for as they went Legolas’s breath was labored and he seemed the slump against the man behind him.
As concern pooled in his mind, Estel spoke. “What is wrong, Legolas?”
The elf shook his head and hissed out one word, “Poison.”
By the time they thundered into Rivendell, Legolas was unconscious. Healers rushed to them instantly and pulled the elf away from the sorrow-ridden Ranger.
Time slowed for Estel as worry edged its way into his heart. There was no doubt in his mind that this was his fault for Legolas was right. He had been too reckless—too rash—and the elf had paid for it.
When dusk settled into the sky, Lord Elrond finally came for the pacing man.
The dark haired elf placed a hand upon Aragorn’s shoulder as he spoke. “He will be all right, Estel. I was able to pull the poison from his blood. He just needs rest.”
Relief washed over the ranger as the words registered in his mind, for if anything had happened to his dear friend he would surely be lost to grief.
“May—may I see him?” Aragorn uttered quietly.
Elrond nodded and guided the man to the room where Legolas’s unconscious form laid.
The elf was still, frozen like the icy lakes of winter. His porcelain face was pale as clammy sweat sleeked his brow—giving his skin a periwinkle tint. His lips were parted and eyelids closed. If it was not for his bare chest rising and falling gently, Aragorn would have thought him dead.
The Ranger slowly shuffled forward until he was at the side of the bed. The white dressing upon Legolas’s shoulder was wrapped firmly around the wound with only slight red seeping through. It did not look bad, but Aragorn knew that the wound itself hadn’t been fatal—it was the poison.
He sat upon the mattress as Elrond left him alone with his thoughts.
It was then when Aragorn could not help himself, for his shaking hand reached towards the blonde locks that sprayed out amongst the sheets. Slowly, he took a small section and began to plait it together. The repetitive notion seemed to calm his anxieties so he continued until the golden locks were filled with a bunch of tiny braids. They were a bit out of place, but Aragorn was no expert. He only knew he felt better when his hands were busy and upon the elf.
......
Nowadays, Aragorn was the chieftain of the dunedain. He had grown up much, one would say. No longer was he hotheaded and rash; instead, his recklessness was replaced with caution and deliberately contemplated decisions. A good change indeed. Yet with his responsibilities and Legolas’s princely duties, it was not likely for the two to be in the same place at the same time. So, it was merely by chance that they were both visiting Rivendell during the same season.
Many elves were wandering the Rivendell meadows and gardens for the spring’s breeze was gentle and freeing. Legolas, who spent his days in darkened corridors and the dreadful shadows of Mirkwood’s sickness, was certainly one of these elves.
The blonde prince rested on his back with the green grass and vibrant flowers whispering upon his skin. He let his eyelids flutter closed as the warmth of the sun spread within his chest and the scent of honey and jasmine filled his nostrils. His heart felt at peace.
“You’re father would not approve of wasting time like this,” A voice stated smugly from above.
Legolas cracked a smile for he recognized the tone immediately. “What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”
The Ranger sat down next to the elf and let his forearms rest upon his knees. Aragorn seemed to also let the serenity of nature settle over him as he plucked at the various colored buds sprouting below him.
“So strange that such a small thing could be so beautiful and intricate,” He murmured under his breath as he examined the vein-like shapes within the petals.
Legolas sat up and carefully removed the flower from his friend’s grasp. “You are quite correct.” He paused for a moment as he examined the light periwinkle floral leaf, “You know, this color reminds me of your eyes.”
Aragorn let out a deep chuckle as he took the flower back from the elf.
A long moment passed as the two enjoyed the gentle lull of nature.
Surprising the Mirkwood Prince, Estel reached forward and let his fingers slip through one of Legolas’s blonde locks. The elf sent him a side glance of slight confusion but did not stop the man. The Ranger scooted behind his friend and began to plait his hair once again, weaving the small flowers into it as he went.
Aragorn spoke softly, “You know, this color goes well with your hair.”
Legolas smirked, “Is that your way of saying that my hair goes with your eyes?”
The Ranger rolled his grey orbs and tugged slightly on the elf’s blonde locks, “Is that your way of saying so?”
The elf shrugged as he tried to hide his grin.
The two sat there, in the meadows of Imaldris, for they both felt at peace wrapped in the color of periwinkle.
.....
Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust @elvish-sky @red-riding
If you wanna be on a taglist just lmk!
104 notes · View notes
ambitionsource · 3 years
Text
S2 Rewatch - Maggie’s Take [ 207 ]
oh honey we’ve got a big storm coming...
Favorite scene
We’re getting to the point now in the season where all these questions become a million times harder to answer. All the scenes have an oomph to them. All the characters are at their richest. All the performances go off. So forgive me for cheating and giving multiple answers from here on out most likely. So in 207, three answers jump to mind. 1) The sequence where Farkle is having his true meltdown, before “Santa Fe.” From a writing standpoint, I remember I was really proud with how that scene turned out. It was a fun challenge, trying to capture that anxiety and panic and loss of reality. A fun fact that you may or may not know is that nearly all of the lines of dialogue said by the hallucinated characters are repetitions or variations on dialogue that has actually already been said in the show, meant to highlight how Farkle’s brain has taken these (usually offhand) comments and held onto them obsessively and in some cases even warped them into something more antagonistic than they were. Then there was the pattern of tying the sentiments together into one overarching monologue of sorts, repeating that thematic word over and over, “enough.” It was just so fun to write, and I’m really happy with how it came together. 2) The Dylan, Lucas, and Asher argument in the booth. Ooh, buddy. This was a true turning point, both for the narrative and for Asher and Dylan as characters. To me, that is the scene where they rise from supporting characters to mains, and in some ways it’s a long time coming. I love how it highlights the imperfections at play between that trio, and the way that Lucas and Asher know exactly how to get at one another, but nothing gets me more than Dylan’s “HEY” and stepping in between them. How Dylan snapping seems to be what pulls Lucas out of his anger, and how Dylan’s anger only lasts seconds before it shifts into like shock / concern... ugh I love him. I love them! Definitely a standout scene, even back when I first wrote it, but even more so now that Dylan and Asher have such larger roles in the third season. 3) The unintentional coming out scene between Riley and Charlie. The whole thing is just rich with tension, like I love the moment where Charlie is like you can’t tell anyone you can’t -- and she just interrupts him and it goes dead silent until she’s emphatically like I would never tell anyone... like chills, bro. Chills. And the relief that comes from Riley finally understanding why he’s been acting the way he has... so good. The follow up to this choice is the Zay and Charlie scene at the end where the freedom of someone knowing seems to allow him the strength to kiss Zay in their studio... I love them. I love it all. Whew. 
Favorite performance
It’s getting hard... it’s getting tough to choose... like “Santa Fe” is up there because of the raw emotion of it and what it represents for Farkle and his arc. “Loser” is great too, mainly in concept, as we have Dasher acting as Lucas’s subconscious mind essentially and all of the cool choices in the production of the number. But I think I will have to go with “Waving Through A Window,” as that is such a standout performance in my opinion. It delivers emotionally, it has a cool flow and concept, there’s snow... whenever it comes on AMBITION shuffle I’m like oh yeah. Now we’re talking. And I love the visual of Isadora being stuck on the acting block / courtyard table, always inches from falling off the ledge but managing to avoid disaster. It’s just a really cool visual in my head. So that’s the top for me I think.
Favorite character (within context of the episode)
I literally can’t choose. I don’t know what to say. I think I’ll say maybe Charlie and Zay? Both in their storyline together as well as individuals. They’ve both got great solos (“Consideration” and “Exhale”), Charlie has his devolution emotionally and Zay finally (righteously) snaps at Angela. They find refuge, in Riley and Harper and of course each other. There are standout moments throughout the episode for their relationship -- holding hands at the top in the studio, Charlie hugging Zay in the hallway to comfort him and telling him it’s okay, the fraught moment of Charlie snapping at Zay about being at his locker which feels like a tiny unintentional step back, Charlie’s frazzled kiss on the cheek in public, the ending scene with another handhold and the softest kiss... ugh I love them. They were at a peak this episode, which makes sense considering what’s about to come...
Favorite line(s)
“You know what, you’ve got a lot to think about. Let me just get out of your hair. Best of luck with this next phase in your life, sir. Save a little social security for the rest of us provided climate change doesn’t kill us first!” --Lucas James Friar, to Eric
“I mean, but what am I going to do instead? Follow in the footsteps of my mom? I won’t survive veterinary school, Mister E. And you can only cure lung cancer once!” --Darby Winters
“Might be nice to help combat the impending danger of climate change and issues with renewable resources by studying environmental sciences or maybe aeronautical space engineering in pursuit of space materials that could be used as new energy sources. Ooh, or a rodeo clown!” --Dave Williams
“Actually, I’m near-sighted. But I wear contacts.” --Dylan Orlando, in response to Eric asking if his future plan is “short-sighted”
“I looked into “space cowboy,” but as it turns out you need a degree in aerospace engineering as well as a license to boy cows, and that seems like a lot of work. So then I thought, well, if I don’t have the capacity to work, what else is there in this capitalistic hell we call society? Sure, I could probably enter myself in human cage fights and scrap to death for spare change, but I think that would hurt after a while and to be honest, I think I’d feel a bit like a piece of meat if I took up that mantle. Who would I be fighting to impress? The bourgeoisie? Hard pass. But after some deep, probing soul-searching, I finally hit the one. Trophy husband. Now, I know what you’re thinking. To accomplish such a grand ambition, I’d have to get someone to like me. And that’s a pretty hefty task, believe me I know, but I’ve devised a work around. This is, as Dave would say, galaxy-brained thinking, Mister E. I’m going to put an ad on Craigslist.” --Lucas James Friar
“It’s easy to say you believe in someone. Showing up for them is a different story.” --Zay Babineaux
“We’re friends, Lucas. We care about you. Asher wasn’t lying about that. And when you decide you want to do something about this, we’ll be there. When you need us... we’re going to be there for you. No matter what.” --Dylan Orlando
“I don’t know if this will make you feel better or worse, but the truth is it all comes down to endurance. How long you can take it, how long you can stick it out until it ends up being your shot. The true test of who lives the dream is who hangs on… and who gives up.” --Harper Burgess
An underrated moment
There are so many it would be so hard for me to pick one if I thought about it too hard, so I’m gonna go with my gut. My favorite mini moment in the episode is during the end montage, when Dylan climbs in the window to comfort Asher. There’s a lot of small details I like about it that occur just within like 30 seconds -- Asher’s routine with crushing up his anxieties (a thing elaborated on in Cruel Summer), how commonplace it is for Dylan to climb in the window, and how he jumps into comfort mode and they both fall into that without any words at all. I just love it. And I can picture the way Dylan kisses his cheek and then his shoulder and then rests his head against him so perfectly... I adore them. They are angels.
First impression vs your reread impression
Obviously, even when I wrote this last year it felt major. Because it is. This is the turning point episode, literally and narratively. It’s smack in the middle, and from here I knew everything was going to be bigger and more, especially since we pulled the (metaphorical) trigger with Farkle. We knew that was a narrative risk, but we felt strongly about it, and we took every method we thought possible to set it up well, be cautious about it to y’all (with trigger warnings and hotlines, etc.), and then follow through on it in a way that balanced realism with care and attention. I think we managed to pull it off, but it was a great relief that you all reacted so well to it (in terms of the narrative, not like joyously LMAO) and trusted us to carry it forward. That kind of trust in a writer means a lot, and that’s what I’ll always remember when I think about this episode. Thankfully, we all survived it, and now here we are on the cusp of S3. Insane. And now onto 208... the storm is here...
3 notes · View notes
purplenarwhal19 · 4 years
Text
COSMIC DANCER
so, here’s a v short story I wrote for class about the importance of exploration. two of the songs that are excerpted in my story I found through @basic-banshee ‘s fanfic Rebel Rebel which is one the best (probably the best) fanfics ever.
Also I don’t know how to do the cutoff thingy so it’s gonna be a long post 🤷‍♀️ so sorry
....
enjoy, I guess? 💕
COSMIC DANCER
Over the radio, a gentle guitar played, followed by T. Rex’s smooth and repetitive lyrics. I sighed, bliss. We were driving on a California road in our rusty tour bus. Sitting in our narrow duffel bag with my costars, with bemused smiles plastered across our faces. Cool air conditioning blew a soft breeze. We listened to beautiful, alternative music, an epic soundtrack for our journey. This was the life of a performer. A true actress.
It was the summer of 1971. I was an actress and dancer on the television and stage show, Desi Dance. We were a children’s show that taught people all about India’s rich culture and history. Dance, art, poetry, music, and food offered just a peek into Indian tradition. We had been performing and touring for six years, but it felt like we started the show yesterday.
“I danced myself right out the womb
Is it strange to dance so soon?”(1)
The guitar solo came into full sound with the backing vocals. It created a powerful feeling that filled my whole body with true hope and strength.
All my life I had danced. It was my escape, my passion, and my love. It felt like that was what I was made for. Reading also brought escape, when the pressure of being an actress became too much. Reciting poetry for my castmates or singing a song that was stuck in my head was so relaxing and freeing. The lyrics are what spoke to me about music, and while I had quite a large vocabulary, there were often times when I didn’t know what a word meant.
“Beraham, what is a womb?” I questioned the boy next to me, clad in loose fitting turquoise pants with gold embroidery.
“I don’t know, Shrishti,” Beraham said plainly.
Beraham and I both sat there, still enjoying it, yet dumbfounded. Curiosity, a crimson rash that we needed to itch, in that unreachable spot on your back. This infection spread throughout the whole cast, leaving all of us with that same itch.
Maybe I could ask my movement director when we get to the venue… I thought as I drifted off, wrapped up in the comfort of music and friendship.
The year was 1973. In the dressing room, now with a smaller cast, we were practicing lines and getting ready to film. I had been groomed with brushes, painted with makeup and had been dressed in the most gorgeous fabrics. My lengha was brilliant magenta with intricate canary yellow details, and paired with a simple sequinned pearly white top. I loved these days, dressing up, feeling beautiful like a royal queen.
To the left of me, a record player played a Paul Simon favourite, setting our moods to the upbeat song.
“The mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away
Oh, the mother and child reunion
Is only a moment away”(2)
A familiar feeling of confusion washed over me. Why is the reunion so important? Why were the mother and child separated? Who are they?
Who is my mother?
Where is she?
Everyone has a mother. Our director, our manager, our movement director, the children in the audience; everyone except me and my fellow actors.
Everyone except me.
I tried to close my perfectly designed eyes, to block out the image of my unfortunate life, but my body refused to listen to my command. Blinking wasn’t even in my control.
I felt so overwhelmed. I had no identity. Who am I? This was a question from too deep in my heart for me to bear.
It was too much. I wanted to leave, I had to get up. I willed my thin, stick-like legs to stand up, pushing, using all the strength I had, just to leave the room.
Nothing happened.
I tried again, hoping for something, some sign of my own independence.
Nothing.
My body wasn’t mine. My will, myself, I could not control it. My life wasn’t mine.
I looked around at my colleagues, chatting, laughing, and totally unaware of their inability to be free. Bound to our employers who dictate and orchestrate our every move.
“Oh, little darling of mine
I can’t for the life of me
Remember a sadder day
I know they say let it be
But it just don’t work out that way”(2)
Paul Simon was right, I still can’t remember a sadder day than that one. My life had changed forever.
As years passed, I began to feel emptier and emptier, resenting my profession, and hating my life. Those years also happened to be our most successful, as a show. The success changed everything. Our bosses got sloppy; high on the fame, as well as their drugs of choice.
Most notably, Arjun, our stage director, became addicted to heroin. It was a horrid sight to witness him become a shell of the person he used to be. It reminded me exactly of that sad, sad Velvet Underground song.
“Heroin, be the death of me
Heroin, it’s my wife and it’s my life
Because a mainline into my vein
Leads to a center in my head
And then I’m better off than dead”(3)
It broke my heart to see him like this. I couldn’t understand how he could inject a toxin into his body by choice. How he could slowly kill himself one high after another.
By then, I had realized that I wasn’t human. I was something else, like them, yet different; stronger, yet weaker.
I spoke with my closest companions, Beraham, Jaidev, and Mitali. They were as confused as I was the day I realized I entered this world without anyone, without a mother. They too began life motherless.
The directors, started our show with shining faces, and now were graying and worn out. We kept the same expressions over the years, never seeing a wrinkle appear, never feeling an ache or pain, never feeling or looking our age.
We hadn’t aged in the past 20 years. We were to be used, like the puppets we were, forever.
“What can we do?” Mitali questioned, urgency overtaking her usual calm nature.
“Nothing,” Jaidev said. “It’s hopeless…”
“I want you to know deep in the cell of my heart
I really want to go
There is another world… a better world
Well, there must be…”(4)
I felt like the Smiths were reading my mind; I wanted another world, a better world, and I hoped with all my heart and soul that there would be one.
This was the lowest depth of our depression. We considered “ending it all”, whatever that meant.
Most of the time our directors listened to nonsense music filled with empty, happy thoughts that had less meaning than my life. When we listened to the melancholy music of Miles Davis, Billie Holiday and Chet Baker, that our bosses listened to so rarely, it felt reassuring: someone else suffered as we did.
Determined to solve this problem, I decided to speak with the director about our conditions. I had heard the humans refer to us as “puppets”, inanimate objects who could only recite lines, made only of felt, and paint. This sounded as bad as any slur that I’d heard before. They pushed and shoved us around, threw us in crowded duffel bags. This had to stop. We needed to break away from the chains the humans bound us in.
“Today we will close our show with an excerpt from Keralan poet, Kamala Surayya. “I am sinner, I am saint— I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” I paused, taking a moment to think of the right words.
“I cannot read the words of a woman who has lived and loved, while I am kept here, held captive by you humans!” I angrily burst, far less eloquent than I had imagined, emotion overtaking my composed mask.
My face turned a deep scarlet shade of red, reminiscent of tamaatar; something that had never happened before. The camera people, directors, and executives stood in place, too shocked to move or speak, the puppet that they had manipulated for so many years had finally taken control and spoken back.
Divya, a camera person, pale and shocked, stuttered, “W-what is happening?” She glanced around nervously at the other people in the room to see if they saw the same thing.
“Divya, you aren’t hallucinating. This is very real. My costars and I are conscious beings; we may not be able to move like you humans, but we deserve the same treatment as you. We have thoughts and feelings, hopes and dreams. The way you speak about us is degrading. The way you touch and move us is disrespectful. We deserve respect and our thoughts and opinions are as valid as yours,” I spoke with a dignified tone. “The cast and I would like to have a meeting with all of you to discuss our treatment.”
Wide eyed, the crew, obediently agreed and took us to our cramped dressing room. The room was painted a pale yellow with a cheap elephant decal on the wall that was torn and peeling on the edges. This tiny room barely housed all thirteen of us cast members. With all of the behind the scenes crew in our room, we were packed in tight, like sardines in a tin.
“We have called this meeting today to negotiate our rights and responsibilities within this community,” Mitali serenely began. “Our citizenship within our show needs to include us as full members with equal rights and consideration. We understand that your use of us has immense benefits for you, with few benefits for us.”
“You make significant profits from our labor. Your wage is even plentiful enough for you, Arjun, to fund your addiction.” Jaidev scoffed.
With a quivering chin, Arjun begged, “What can we do to fix our mistakes?”
Beraham blustered, “ We want a change in your behaviour!”
“We cannot move on our own, so we expect help and kindness. When you have moved us in the past, even just five minutes ago, you throw around our bodies, like the inanimate objects you believe us to be. We want to go outside and see the world. We want more space in our dressing room, and we expect some real answers about who and what we are,” I demanded.
Afters some discussions we learned that we were the descendants of Saraswati, the Goddess of wisdom and art. The movement directors, who were called “puppeteers”, had no idea that we could do more than just read prepared lines, until we had all travelled to America. This was too far away from the Pundita, that had given them the divine puppets that we were. They could not receive guidance. They had no idea as to what we were capable of, or how to teach us.
That Pundita was my mother.  Her name was Tavni, and I was given a picture of her.
She had a golden, caramel complexion, with large eyes and hazel pupils. She had a smile that lit up a whole room and round, rosy cheeks.
I noticed the similarities in our appearances, the way she had crafted me to look so much like her.
I had found my identity.
Learning all of this information brought a new sensation to my eyes; something burning and prickly, and a wet droplet traveling down my cheek. I was crying! This feeling brought a warm emotion of relief, of content and of closure.
Soon after these discoveries, I realized that I loved my job. Even though the past years had been rough, this was what I was meant to do. If conditions improved, I would truly be happy.
I was going to do what my mother created me for. Dancing and performing, bringing India to the whole world and teaching about our glorious culture. I would do just that.
“I danced myself into the tomb
I danced myself into the tomb
Is it strange to dance so soon?
I danced myself into the tomb…”(1)
THE END
~
SONGS REFERENCED:
(1) Cosmic Dancer, T. Rex, 1971
(2) Mother and Child Reunion, Paul Simon, 1972
(3) Heroin, The Velvet Underground, 1967
(4) Asleep, The Smiths, 1987
4 notes · View notes
imagine-knb · 6 years
Text
Homecoming [Kagami Taiga]
Wrote this one last year I think. Honestly not one of my favorites ;;;;; Also, as a side note, the rest of the things that will be posted were before I switched to using “____” as the name placeholder, so sorry if it’s a little weird seeing “[Name]” instead, but there’s just too many for me to go and fix @_@
A shrill sound echoed through the small apartment, the mechanical noise repeating itself every few seconds with an incessant beep. It was loud enough to be heard throughout all the rooms, alerting anyone in the vicinity of the paper thin walls to hear it. A few decibels beneath that noise, the sound of a sizzling frying pan could be heard. Smoke and steam billowed from the searing metal, the former being the cause for the repetitive whine of the fire alarm. From another room, rushed footsteps followed by a heavy thud and loud cursing resounded.
“Damn it,” Kagami growled the curse, reciting it over and over again as he reached for the fire alarm. “Damn it. Damn it!” Fingers fumbled around with the tiny machine for only a few seconds before finally finding the button that would turn it off. Pressing down, the shrill beeping came to a halt and the tall red head could once again hear himself think.
Replacing the fire alarm back onto the wall, Kagami turned his attention to the frying pan on his stove where the onions he had placed inside were quickly becoming akin to charcoal. He quickly stepped over to it, removing it from the heat completely and turning off the stove to avoid any more incidents. Looking at the now ruined vegetables, Kagami clicked his tongue before muttering, “I was only gone for a minute.”
He set the unsalvageable pan of onions on an oven mitt where he would allow it to cool down before placing it in the sink. It sank into the mitt heavily, the metal bottom rounded and dented from a few moments of misuse. The sound of scorching metal meeting chilled water was still fresh in his memories, reminding him of every moment that caused the cookware to bend out of shape. Of course, it hadn’t been his fault; he knew better than to put hot metal under the flow of water.
Grabbing the plate with his still warm burger from off the kitchen counter, the tall man slowly sulked his way over to the place he deemed the living room. He would have to deal with eating his food without any grilled onions to accompany his meal.
He sat on the left side of the couch, one hand holding onto his plate of food while the other switched on his television with the remote that had been sitting nearby. After a few moments of channel surfing, Kagami started to feel a bit awkward with the empty space occupying the right half of his couch. He shifted in his seat, placing his legs on the other half of the couch so that he could lounge on it. Content with his efficient use of space, Kagami went back to changing television stations until he was finally satisfied with something to watch.
There was a movie on, Kagami noted as he took a large bite out of his burger. Chewing slowly, he watched the characters interact with each other. After five minutes, it had become apparent to him that the movie was a romance—though it took the main characters suddenly making out with each other for him to realize. Feeling a knot form in his stomach, Kagami reached for the remote and quickly shut off the television. Once again, the apartment was silent.
With nothing better to do, Kagami once again felt the need to look around at his surroundings. Taking more bites out of his burger, he observed the subtle differences that had come to his apartment over the past few years. Though the color of the walls had remained the same, they were more heavily decorated, framed pictures of special moments and posters pinned up in random places. An entire bookshelf took up part of the wall space, filled to the brim with books that Kagami neither heard of nor read.
Kagami had finished his burger while he was distracted by the room. Setting his plate on the floor and closing his eyes, he leaned back into the couch as he imagined the bedroom where he lay in bed every night. He had traded his single mattress in for a queen sized bed a year ago, finally able to afford the larger mattress, and the wooden frame took up quite a bit of floor space. The desk he had in his room had to be moved to the opposite wall, facing away from the window. There were two chairs resting near it and Kagami would often prop his feet up on the second chair, pretending he was in a hammock as he lazed some days away.
It was true that, within the years after graduating high school, the apartment had gotten fuller with the introduction of more furniture and decorations, but Kagami couldn’t help but feel as if it was still empty.
The red head had just started dozing off when a familiar sound started resonating throughout the apartment. At first, through the haze of sleep, Kagami thought it was the sound of his fire alarm going off again. Sitting up in a panic, he looked around for the source of the offending noise, but soon realized that his original thought had been false. The noise wasn’t from the fire alarm.
Feeling around his person, he searched for the only other thing that could be making the incessant ringing. He pulled a cellphone from his pocket, flipping it open and placing the speaker against his ear impatiently. “Hello?”
He was met with silence for a few seconds, though there was clearly another person on the line—he could hear them breathing. Feeling his patience waning, the brash young adult was just about to give his caller a piece of his mind when a quiet and formal, “Kagami-kun” was heard.
“Kuroko?” Kagami asked, confusion laden in his voice as he tried to understand his friend. “What the hell? Why are you calling?”
“Other than work, you haven’t gone out of your apartment for a while,” Kuroko stated calmly, almost as if he were speaking to one of his students. “Let’s go play some basketball. For old time’s sake.”
Kagami hesitated in answering. It was true that he hadn’t been out of his home for recreational purposes in a while and the apartment was started to feel a tad suffocating despite its emptiness. Drawing in a breath, Kagami said, “Sure. When should I meet you?”
“Right now,” Kuroko said hastily. “I’m already outside.” The soft-spoken male ended the call promptly, leaving Kagami no time to retort at Kuroko’s bad timing.
Growling out some offensive curses, Kagami stood from his seat on the couch, the sore muscles in his back protesting as he did so. He stretched a bit before heading for his front door, ignoring his dirty plate that he had left on the floor beside the couch. His socked feet dragged along the wooden floor, making no sound as he made his way to the entrance. If Kuroko wanted to play right at that moment, he would have to deal with Kagami being dressed in only a wife beater and sweatpants.
Grabbing his keys off the new veranda near his front door, the tall red head swiftly and expertly pulled on his sneakers before opening the door to his residence. He set his gaze to the outside world, a semi-bored expression creating a mask on his face. The sunlight danced through the sky, bouncing off cars that were driving on the road and causing some glare to hit his eyes. With a scowl, Kagami turned to close the door behind him, locking it so ensure no intruders would make house in his apartment.
“Where you going, Taiga?”
Despite being turned away from the voice—which had caught him completely off guard—Kagami instantly recognized its owner. Fearing that it was a dream, he stopped himself from turning fully around. Instead, he went for a retort to the voice, but soon found that his own voice box was unwilling to cooperate. A thick lump had lodged itself in his throat, making it hard for him to breathe let alone speak. He would have to turn and face the person.
Taking a tentative step, he shifted the one-hundred and eighty degrees to face the person of interest. The first thing he noticed was the dark black boots he had watched walk away from him only months ago. Accompanying them were different shades of green, the camouflage doing little to meld the person into the off white walls of the surrounding buildings. There were patches on the left breast of their uniform top, their last name neatly embroidered with gold stitches.
“Taiga.”
At the call of his name, he dared a look at the person’s face. Familiar eyes and a warm smile met his gaze and, blinking back the tears that threatened to form in his eyes, he rushed forward. Strong arms encircled his waste, returning the squeezing hug that Kagami was giving the person. Despite having not shed any tears, the red head could feel a rawness in his throat as he repeated their name like a mantra. He buried his nose into the crook of their neck, inhaling their scent with a shuddering breath. He could already feel the creeping blush forming on his cheeks and neck, embarrassed by his current public display of affection, but not caring in the least as he engulfed the one person he had been deprived of for so long.
“[Name],” he gasped, pushing them away at arm’s length for only a moment before instantly pulling them back in for a hug. “You’re home.”
[Name]’s body was shaking in his arms and soft sobs escaped their lips. Kagami could feel fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, threatening to never let go. “Yes, I’m home,” [Name] answered through their crying. He could feel them nod against his chest, their laugh evident in their voice despite the tears that were surely running down their face.
The honk of a car’s horn caught both their attentions and, wiping the tears and fluids that had escaped their eyes and noses, they both looked out towards the street. Kagami noticed a familiar blue eyed former teammate in the driver’s seat of a car. Kuroko waved briefly, flashing the pair a small smile before driving away from the scene. Kagami twitched a bit, thinking about how that sneaky bastard had once again pulled the wool over his eyes.
But for good reason.
Returning his gaze back to his lover, Kagami gave them a gentle smile. He picked up the heavy suitcase they had carried with them, nodding his head towards their front door. Understanding his gesture, [Name] unlocked and opened the door, waltzing in before Kagami. Watching them prance through the rooms as if they hadn’t left at all, the former high school basketball player felt as if his home wasn’t so empty anymore.
In fact, it was perfect once again.
45 notes · View notes
foruneyti · 6 years
Note
As much as I want to ask about 48, I’ll restrain myself and ask for 49 instead.
Haha good call, I wouldn’t have been able to answer 48 truthfully (or at all). 49. Writing advice.Of course advice is only a guideline, and it is different for everyone, but I will start with some basics that I think will help almost anyone out: 1. Read a lot, build a vocabulary. The bigger your vocabulary the more interesting and accurate scenes you can write. It doesn’t mean you should use difficult words for every small thing, of course; it just means that you won’t be stuck with words such as sad, happy, and angry. Someone who has lost a loved one isn’t just ‘sad’, after all. They are devastated, full of sorrow; their heart is shattered and they will mourn for perhaps a very long time - just ‘sad’ won’t cover the intensity of their emotions. 2. Make sure your grammar and spelling are correct; practice if necessary. Incorrect spelling and confusing grammar can often throw a reader from the scene you have put them in. You want them to forget the outside world, to forget that they are reading something instead of seeing it happen; and mistakes can pull them from the story and back into reality. Always check your writing after you’ve written it, before you upload it, and preferably twice after uploading it. It is okay if typos slip through your fingers every once in a while, things like that just happen. 
3. (And this is one I see quite often)  Do not use more than three successive periods (ellipsis). More than the standard three can greatly disrupt the flow of the story and makes it seem unprofessional, especially when done multiple times in the same chapter. Please, just use three; and even then, use them sparsely. 4. That doesn’t mean you can’t use other punctuation marks, however. Use dashes ( - ) semicolons ( ; ) and colons ( : ) to influence the length of your sentences. Know when they should/can be used and try not to use too many of the same in rapid succession, but look closely at how your writing flows and adjust it with these if necessary. 5. Make sure your reading flows like music. This is one I personally find one of the most important ones. Switch between longer and shorter sentences, don’t only use tiny ones or extremely long ones as it becomes repetitive and annoying to read. For example: I was walking through the woods. It was dark. There was no one else outside. The cold made me shiver. I pulled my cloak further around my body. My shoulders kept shaking. I hated the cold.While the scene may be well-described with observations, actions, and feelings, it isn’t very nice to read. Try to mix it up with a few longer sentences.  - Then here are a few of my personal ones. - 6. Don’t only use actions to write your scene. He did this, she did that, then that happened - sure, all that happens is clear, but it isn’t interesting. Describe the environment, or the weather, or the clothes they were wearing, or what they looked like, or /how/  they did it. And, if you’re writing from a perspective that allows for feelings, use them! Let the reader know how they were feeling, let them know their thoughts and their fears and their hopes. This of course depends on the scene itself. If it should be fast paced, keep the environmental descriptions to a minimum and focus on actions, feelings, and perhaps thoughts. 
7. In my opinion, you can use ‘said’. You can also use others like ‘sighed’ and ‘groaned’ if you want. In any case, don’t use them too often, and especially not after every spoken sentence. I personally like to avoid them all together and instead describe the look in their eyes or the badly hidden sarcasm lacing their words; how they moved a hand through their hair in exasperation or how they clenched their fists so tight their nails left crescent moons in the palm of their hands. 
8.Don’t say they are angry but describe it; describe how their eyes grew dark and their shoulders locked, how their fingers curled into fists as the urge to punch someone rose within them. Convey their emotion, try to let the reader feel the same. My personal fave is to try and make my readers cry when the main character does so as well  -   this is tricky and a bit difficult sometimes, but it gives a much more intense experience. So don’t just let the character cry, but describe the actions and feelings and maybe even use similes! 9.  Pick your words with care, especially if you need to foreshadow stuff or if you need to be secretive about things still to come. 
10. If you’re not sure about the flow of your story, read it aloud to yourself - this also helps with taking out the typos and finding weird sentences. 11. Find a place you can write without distractions. I personally like it best to write when I am completely alone and the only sound is either the rain tapping on my window or the music I have in the background. I prefer to write on a laptop, but when inspiration strikes and I haven’t got it with me I write in the notes of my phone. 12. Install a program on your phone in which you can write stuff. I write in a program simply called ‘notes’, as I mentioned above. This way you can always write when you feel like it! 13. Edit your writing until you feel like it is as good as it will get. 14. I don’t believe in Mary Sues as almost all female characters will be called a Mary Sue at least once, but there are a few things I must ask of you to avoid: 1. Talking and acting like a very, very stubborn teenager. A stubborn character can be fun, but don’t let them go against everything and everyone just because they can or because they don’t feel like complying. Even teenagers have a sense of duty sometimes, or realise it is smarter to just go along; and not all teenagers were stubborn rebels. And even stubborn rebels have feelings. 3. Worthless or not being able to do anything themselves. (underpowered?)Every person has their skills and worth. If they need another character to do everything for them, every reader will get fed up with the character. And if they truly can’t do anything, let them hate it, or let there be consquences. Don’t let them wallow in self-pity for too long, either. 2. Overpowered. And even if they are overpowered, let there be consequences. Let their powers drain their energy until they almost die, let them have vulnerabilities. Make it hard for them. They have cool and dangerous powers that can defeat any enemy? Make their family afraid of them, make no one dare to go near them. Let them struggle with keeping it under control (but avoid the wallowing in self-pity without taking action). Let them lose it all, and show how they suddenly need to adjust to a life without all that power. Let someone accept them for who they are, until they become a victim of the powers, too. I can’t stress it enough: consequences. 15. Check whether things are possible. Fifteen stabwounds to the chest? No, unless they aren’t human or overpowered or have some special gift or object that allows them to survive it. Being hit by lightning? They can definitely survive! It just adds more realism to your writing. 16. If you’re writing a multi-fic, it is really useful to have a separate document with a timeline and the trivia you need to remember. Everything that could be important: names of villagers and their professions, specific powers, titles, the amount of money a character possesses, things that happened in their past and have had a great impact; things like that. 17. Know your characters. Know everything about them. Let them grow throughout your story, too! I think I could go on for a long, long time; but this should be enough to help you out! If you have any specific questions, for example about world building or character design or character building, feel free to send an ask! 
12 notes · View notes
Quote
Natural supplies predominate in wabi sabi properties: paper, aged real wood, linens, cottons, etc. Look for whatever celebrates the markings of time, weather conditions, and the consequences of loving use. In other words look for things with history on their surfaces.I am definitely attracted to the tenets of wabi sabi, and if you gone around my residence you would find subtle evidence of my fascination with the marks of energy, wood, and organic materials like cotton and linen.But you would also find pristine, light, goblet and leather. For me combining new and old can be a affirmation that probably gives more attention to the very poor objects and what they mean.I find spaces that have obviously blended the up to date with the outdated and authentic incredibly interesting, and I believe about them as approaching wabi sabi rather than totally embracing it.Related Images with Living in Small Spaces – Ideas from Paris House by Christian PottgiesserInterior Design – Smart Small Space Decorating Ideas YouTubeDeciding on the best artwork for you entry can establish a welcoming scene for your home.When I have the option, I always choose art first and then create a place around it instead of buy art to match a space. It's the performer in me, you will need a center point in an area that doesn't provide an architectural one, and art is your almost all versatile choice.I developed this small space several years ago, but it continues to be on trend right now. Below are a few elements to think about before making an art purchase for any space, however in particular small places where you numerous just have one piece of art22 Small Homes Featuring Modern Interior Design and Comfortable Small SpacesThis contained front entry is really a narrow space with a high ceiling. The bench is usually low and dim and was to the right of the door. The table likewise dark was to the left of the entranceway.Always choose work that mimics the form of the area you are filling up.In a smaller space I normally use one artwork rather than an array of smaller bits, but that's personal inclination. The vertical orientation of this painting facilitates bridge the space between the minimal bench again and the great ceiling. The vertical collections of the trees and shrubs also helps transfer the eye up.The width in the painting is approximately 2/3 with the bench width. That is always an excellent proportion.17 Ideas For Decorating Small Apartments Tiny Spaces Tiny Houses Homes Studio apartment ColourThe walls certainly are a cool blue gray and were area of the original colour scheme of the house. Cool colours within an entry with little lighting can lead into a depressing space. One of the better ways to shift a visually cool area to an inviting one would be to choose work which has very warm colorings. There's also nothing beats nature's colours to warm a space.RepetitionOnce I chose the art for any focal point on this space, I relocated the colour around in the pillow and think about on the opposite wall. Also be aware the repetition with the diamonds through the bench back again to the orange pillow and the lower crystal vase. The vertical traces inside the tree trunks may also be reinforced within the tall, sparse floral agreement and the light fixture. Actually the verticals in the entranceway frame are undertaking their aspect in repetition.IDEAS for Small Living Spaces Pastel, Small living spaces and Living roomsContrastThat's where your room will sink or swim. Every place needs comparison or will be boring. Contrast produces layers/depth and facilitates mover your attention around a space. The dark woods in this particular space stand out against the mild walls. The light flower, dish, lamp shade and trim work stand out against the walls along with the darker wood.Subject matterChoose images you connect with and just forget about what everybody else thinks. If a work doesn't speak to you why take the time to have it?Finding just the right artwork is always a challenge, but in my mind the proper piece could make a whole place sing.
http://myhomedreamshome.blogspot.com/2019/07/living-in-small-spaces-ideas-from-paris.html
0 notes
terryblount · 5 years
Text
God Eater 3 Review: Low Effort Manic Monster Munchin’
I’d never played a God Eater before this third entry. I’d seen them on Steam, but they were all low-quality handheld console ports. Yuck! Finally, with God Eater 3, we have an entry developed for PC claiming high-quality visuals, fast-paced combat, and a serious story!
As someone who put 100+ hours into Monster Hunter World last year, I loved the idea of getting another dose of monster hunting fun, but does God Eater 3 deliver? Absolutely on the combat side; not really on the ‘everything else’ side. Let’s dive in.
Last Gen Called; It Wants Its Visuals Back
Let’s begin with the bad. God Eater 3 looks and feels like a last-gen game. I could have sworn this was a port from a 2012 or so PS3 game because it feels like the developers accidentally built the game for last-gen hardware specs.
Some scenes have decent graphics in still images, but the in-game details are quite poor.
This low fidelity feeling is especially unfortunate considering the series’ chief competitor delivered a next-gen visual showcase with 2018’s Monster Hunter World. Whoops!
Outdated & Repetitive Content
Apart from lacking visuals, the game’s content feels outdated, too. There’s only a handful of actual game environments. These are nothing more than glorified arenas without any creative twists or clever layouts. Again, this feels so much like the developers thought they were working with PS3 era memory limitations and crafted functional but boringly basic level designs.
Yes, this is an entire arena…a couple hallways and rooms.
God Eater 3 reminds me of Dragon Age 2. Anyone remember that game? It had a handful of lame arenas you’d play over and over again on a supposedly epic quest. God Eater 3 is exactly like this.
Time and time again the game will excitedly exclaim, “Look, an epic battle awaits!” What actually loads is the same exact arena you’ve played 20+ times. Seriously? Low effort!
This location is pretty cool…but I’ve seen it dozens and dozens of times.
Attempted Grand Story; Totally Tiny Presentation
The same lack of developer effort goes for the story. The game, to its credit, attempts to tell a proper story, with ups and downs, character growth, and emotional weightiness. The game even delves into some quite dark subject matters like human rights, indentured servitude, and outright slavery.
Everybody get in their places and pose for the camera, please!
I do think at the core of God Eater 3 is an appealing story of friendship and freedom that’s worth hearing out. Sure, the dialogue is all very basic and there’s no true exploration of the game’s serious themes. But at least there’s an attempt to build a logical, thought-provoking story and world. Kudos for that.
Sadly, God Eater 3 succumbs to the all-too-common low-budget storytelling pitfalls of tell, tell, tell and show basically nothing. The game ostensibly plays out across a fictional version of Europe, but it feels like a film shot in just a few set locations.
It’s almost laughable how many scenes involve your team standing dramatically across the same backdrops over and over despite supposedly traveling to all these grand locales.
There’s a big world map for the story, but there’s actually very few in-game environments.
This lack of quality presentation kills much of the story’s momentum. If you tell me there’s an epic battle before me, you need to show me an epic battle. If you say something really matters, you’d better not totally forget about it fifteen seconds after the cutscene ends. It feels…low effort!
Here’s a nice tea time cutscene. Too bad these events don’t get expanded upon…
Despite my misgivings, by the end I did care about the story and had grown fond of my ragtag group of former prisoners and oppressed people. I genuinely cared about building a future filled with freedom and peace for my friends. Moreover, the game’s got a very strong ending and nice epilogue.
Only one with the power to resonate may pilot this ship. Thankfully, I can resonate…engage!
The Gameplay Flow
This is the flow of the entire game: load into the tiny mission hub, listen to serious talk, accept an important mission, manage your gear, warp to a tiny arena, engage in a manic brawl, get your loot, maybe see a cutscene, and then get dumped ingloriously back at the tiny mission hub to repeat. It’s not terrible… just simplistic.
Ash Crawler Chrysanthemum: Home, Sweet Home
In regard to the mission hub, most of the between-mission gameplay takes place on your own mobile base, known as an Ash Crawler. There’s real Mass Effect vibes in how you can walk around and explore your crew’s living spaces, talking with them about recent events.
However, the quality of Mass Effect isn’t present. Most of the crew banter is very basic and not voiced, and there’s not much payoff for exploring your tiny base. Low effort base design, basically.
Chatting with some of my crew, discussing philosophy.
Even more unfortunately, often the game forces you to talk to specific people at your base before you can proceed on your next story mission. It would have been nice to have some marker telling you where they’re at instead of wandering around until you find them. A minor annoyance, though, since your base is quite small.
Hyper-Combat Mania!
So far I’ve given you a bunch of reasons to not play God Eater 3, but now it’s time to get to the game’s saving grace. Yes, God Eater 3 redeems itself thanks to its wild and epic combat!
I told you the combat is manic! See me doing some crazy flip while lights flash everywhere?!
Battles in God Eater 3 have a chaotic ultra-frenzied fever dream feel to them. Yes indeed, this game has brilliantly mad fighting. So fast, so furious. Monster Hunter World looks like a slow-motion creaking antique compared to God Eater 3’s hip, stylish, and light-speed stabby-slashy-crushy mayhem!
God Eater 3 versus Monster Hunter World feels very much like Sonic versus Mario from back in the day. On one side you have the meticulously polished Mario and Monster Hunter, but what Sonic and God Eater lack in quality they make up for with a cool and confident “gotta go fast” attitude!
I think I’m winning…wait: is that my lightning or the enemies? Oh well, keep smashing!
God Eater 3 will have you rushing, flipping, slashing, bursting, and linking at break-neck speeds. Jump, double-jump, zoom across the screen, panic as you flip through your items while two gigantic beasties rip you to shreds. The poor camera finds itself dragged about, bewildered, and woefully inadequate, but when combat is this crazy, you just go with it!
Thanks to the incredible versatility of the combat systems, there’s an unexpectedly addicting rush from one combat encounter to the next. A large part of the appeal comes from the countless ways to improve your play and try new things to go faster and kill better next time around.
You can break parts of the monsters for loot and fun! Pretty orange monster part particles!
Combat Gear & Fancy Moves
What makes combat so diverse? Let’s start with the fact you get both a main weapon and a ranged weapon, unlike Monster Hunter World. You also get to pick a shield type. Then you get to select dozens of unique Arts. Those Arts can be augmented and leveled up. And all your gear can have Skills (the equivalent of Monster Hunter World’s Jewels) installed on them.
Naturally, you can also craft and upgrade your gear using monster parts. There’s numerous upgrade trees and paths for each weapon, just like Monster Hunter. Then there’s the four elements, allowing you to have weapons on hand for every monster murdering occasion.
You get a lot of strange loot from each mission. It’s all a bit confusing at first.
Beyond your gear itself, there’s many more combat moves than you’ll find in Monster Hunter World. You’ll be side-stepping, lunging, and performing crazy aerial combat that feels very much like the Devil may Cry series, interestingly enough.
To put it another way, if you enjoyed the freedom of movement of Monster Hunter World’s semi-flying Insect Glaive weapon (my personal weapon of choice), this is what every weapon can feel like in God Eater 3. When you can quickly fly around the combat space, why ever go back to boring attacks on your feet? Ponder that one!
Here’s one of the nicest looking locations. I enjoy zooming around and seeing the sights.
It’s All About Speed-Eating Delicious Gods!
In God Eater 3 we’re all about eating (called devouring) gods (big monsters), and I choose to believe God Eater 3 is called such because it does the god eating three times as fast as other games!
Everything is designed to get you into combat as quick as possible. You can get a mission, get in the arena, and get to fighting within a minute of loading the game, which makes this game perfect for quick-fix gaming.
Load the game up, start devouring monsters, and do it all over again as fast as possible!
What also cuts down on the tedium this genre is often know for is the removal of all that boring hunting for monsters so common in that one series…what’s it called…oh yeah, Monster Hunter. Basically, God Eater 3 serves up the monsters right in front of you, so get devouring!
The combat does have some issues. Many monsters fly about the arena at too-fast speeds with annoying area of effect attacks that often cancel your commands. The targeting system is wonky, and the camera doesn’t help much either. Sometimes combat does devolve into button mashing, but skilled players will learn how to deftly deal with even the most seemingly unbalanced encounters.
So Many Confusing Systems
Another problematic element with the game overall is the over-implementation of strangely worded gameplay systems. You’ve got Burst Arts, Burst Arts Effects, Engage Mode, Link Bursts, Acceleration Triggers, Charge/Quick/Air Devours, and a bunch more systems. It took me a good 10 to 15 hours to finally come to grips with what in the world the game was babbling on about in regard to all this.
There’s a lot of gear to equip and terms to study. (Yes, my weapon is called “King Baboon.”)
Music & Sound
There’s some standout music tracks in God Eater 3. You know the problem with them? Here’s a hint: it’s the same problem with all the content in the game. Yep, repetition. The excellent tracks get played over and over for every emotional or victorious story scene. There’s just not enough variety.
Sound design is minimal. Like most of the development, the game gives you just enough sound effects during combat to make things feel semi-powerful, but there’s almost no environmental audio touches. Cutscene audio has the basic stuff like footsteps, clinks of swords, and bangs of bullets, but that’s about it. Passable but not passionate (the effort…it was low).
One of the many short cutscenes between battles. Clinky clank!
Smart AI Teammates & Multiplayer
One of God Eater 3’s best features is your actually intelligent AI teammates! Perhaps the developers didn’t get the memo: AI teammates are supposed to be stupid and infuriating, duh! Yet somehow this game never once frustrated me with dumb AI. If I was downed in battle, my AI teammates would always rush to rescue me.
Throughout the entire game my companions would heal me, buff me, and help me in every single battle. They’re even powerful and capable of killing many monsters by themselves. Any Monster Hunter World player will tell you your companion AI in that game is infuriatingly stupid, so score a huge point for God Eater 3! Massive kudos to the developers!
We’re all being very serious here…meditating on how best to devour more gods.
Besides AI teammates, you are able to engage in either story-based multiplayer missions or larger 8-player “assault” missions with matchmaking (AI will fill the empty slots, thankfully). Honestly, most people will want to play this game solo since the game already features robust AI teammates. But if you’ve got a good friend to play with, that’s always fun of course!
Technical Performance
On the bright side, this game runs like a champ. It was rock solid for me, with nearly perfect framerates. This is expected given the very dated visuals and lack of complicated rendering techniques, but it’s nice all the same to have a game run very well. So kudos to the developers for delivering a quality PC game with acceptable customization options.
Difficulty & Controls
You’ll probably find the game to be pretty easy if you’re an action game aficionado. I never once in my entire playthrough wiped (had to restart a mission). You get ranked for how efficiently you complete missions, and I probably triple-S ranked (the top rank) about 75% of the missions on my first try.
Just getting another SSS rank in 5 minutes or less. It’s pretty easy, really.
Granted, I’m a serious fan of the Devil may Cry style genre that God Eater 3 borrows heavily from, but I was surprised at the ease of progression compared to Monster Hunter World. In that game I wiped many, many times, so in a way God Eater 3 was a nice change of pace. I liked being able to breeze through the game without worrying about all the micro-management of items and gear, like in most Monster Hunter games.
The game is definitely designed for a controller. The mouse movement is very sensitive, and there’s far too many weird button combinations to make keyboard usage very friendly. Even the default bindings on the controller are a bit weird. Thankfully you can rebind just about everything. I’d recommend changing the guard button to something much less obnoxious.
Dude, Where’s the Armor?!
One very lacking element in God Eater 3 is armor crafting. In fact, there is zero armor crafting. There’s zero armor at all, to be precise. There is optional cosmetic clothing crafting, but these top/bottom items are a bit boring (realistic jackets, tank tops, cargo pants). It’s like you’re shopping at some trendy shopping mall…what is this?
Do you like my raincoat and oddly-taped cargo pants? I got them on sale!
The armor department is yet another way God Eater 3 proves how woefully deficient it is compared to Monster Hunter World. Where are all the awesome looking armor sets to prove how much of an elite hunter I am? Oh…I guess the developers couldn’t be bothered to implement all that…what’s the term I’m look for here? Oh yes, low effort!
Warning: Scantily Clad Girls & Large Breasts
Yes, God Eater 3 continues the dubious anime stereotype of scantily clad girls and jiggly boobs because clearly breast physics is an important development priority over more battle locations or monster armors, right? Methinks they’re pandering to the sexualized anime crowd.
Then there’s the captain of your ship, Hilda. She’s a very strong and smart and capable woman with great voice acting and good writing. Hilda’s basically classy and awesome, but the developers gave her enormous scantily clad breasts for some reason.
Hilda is an excellent character, but her visual design egregiously clashes with her persona.
To add insult to gravity-injury, they didn’t even give her a bra…and put her in an almost bursting top. Seriously, her breasts are so large she may need breast reduction surgery. A lot of people don’t realize the very serious health problems that come along with being in the extreme end of the breast-size bell curve. Maybe God Eater 3 is trying to raise awareness of the issue? Yeah…I’m sure that’s it…
Concluding: God Eater 3’s Target Audience?
God Eater 3 is the perfect case for discounted games. The developers have chosen to give us a content-limited, low effort version of a Monster Hunter game. All told it only took a little less than 30 hours to finish every mission and obtain the highest rank gear. That’s lightning-quick compared to other games in the genre.
Besides all that, they haven’t even reached current day graphical standards. Plus they reuse the same arenas and monsters over and over. Yet they have the audacity to charge full price. Nope!
You’ll be seeing a lot of monsters up close and personal. Over and over.
However, many Monster Hunter fans will absolutely love the ultra-fast change-of-pace from the more plodding and tedious Monster Hunter World. There’s a real scrappy charm to this sort of budget monster hunting experience. It’s a bit of a palette cleanser, letting you chomp up and devour a few gods here and there before returning to the real-deal Monster Hunter World experience.
The Final God-Eating Verdict
God Eater 3 is very much a guilty pleasure sort of game. I really did love playing it, even though the whole time I fully recognized how lacking and lackluster many of the elements are. There’s fun to be had here, and the story is compelling enough that I kept dreaming of what could have been if the developers had put as much energy into this game as Capcom put into Monster Hunter World.
I just devoured this god known as Anubis. He was quite delicious. Next!
When its rival series can deliver a full-fledged modern-generation, immerse evolution of the series, God Eater 3 is simply too limited, too aging, and too stuck in the past to compete. It’s a darn shame, too, because what the genre really needs is a merging of Monster Hunter World’s quality and expansiveness with God Eater 3’s story-building and hyper-fun combat.
Once God Eater 3 goes on sale for 75% off or so, then I’d say it’s a real value and worth your time. For now, it’s probably best to avoid paying such a high price for such a low effort production.
Addictive, manic combat
Smart, helpful AI teammates
Colorful cast of characters
Comfortable mission grind
So many weapons and skills
Lengthy story, many missions
Strong ending, nice epilogue
Technically solid, runs great
A scrappy charm to it all
Very repetitive gameplay
Not enough diverse locales
Locations are basic arenas
Every mission is the same
Lacks armor crafting
Reuses enemies too often
World needs show, not tell
Outdated visuals and design
Sexualized anime stuff
Playtime: 28 hours total. Nick blazed through the main story and every optional mission in 24 hours (not nonstop!). Another 4 hours was spent farming for the best end-game gear. And that was that!
Computer Specs: Windows 10 64-bit computer using an Intel i7-3930k CPU, 32GB of memory, and a nVidia GTX 980 Ti graphics card.
Also read the God Eater 3 PC Performance Analysis.
God Eater 3 Review: Low Effort Manic Monster Munchin’ published first on https://touchgen.tumblr.com/
0 notes
Quote
Natural supplies predominate in wabi sabi properties: paper, aged real wood, linens, cottons, etc. Look for whatever celebrates the markings of time, weather conditions, and the consequences of loving use. In other words look for things with history on their surfaces.I am definitely attracted to the tenets of wabi sabi, and if you gone around my residence you would find subtle evidence of my fascination with the marks of energy, wood, and organic materials like cotton and linen.But you would also find pristine, light, goblet and leather. For me combining new and old can be a affirmation that probably gives more attention to the very poor objects and what they mean.I find spaces that have obviously blended the up to date with the outdated and authentic incredibly interesting, and I believe about them as approaching wabi sabi rather than totally embracing it.Related Images with Living in Small Spaces – Ideas from Paris House by Christian PottgiesserInterior Design – Smart Small Space Decorating Ideas YouTubeDeciding on the best artwork for you entry can establish a welcoming scene for your home.When I have the option, I always choose art first and then create a place around it instead of buy art to match a space. It's the performer in me, you will need a center point in an area that doesn't provide an architectural one, and art is your almost all versatile choice.I developed this small space several years ago, but it continues to be on trend right now. Below are a few elements to think about before making an art purchase for any space, however in particular small places where you numerous just have one piece of art22 Small Homes Featuring Modern Interior Design and Comfortable Small SpacesThis contained front entry is really a narrow space with a high ceiling. The bench is usually low and dim and was to the right of the door. The table likewise dark was to the left of the entranceway.Always choose work that mimics the form of the area you are filling up.In a smaller space I normally use one artwork rather than an array of smaller bits, but that's personal inclination. The vertical orientation of this painting facilitates bridge the space between the minimal bench again and the great ceiling. The vertical collections of the trees and shrubs also helps transfer the eye up.The width in the painting is approximately 2/3 with the bench width. That is always an excellent proportion.17 Ideas For Decorating Small Apartments Tiny Spaces Tiny Houses Homes Studio apartment ColourThe walls certainly are a cool blue gray and were area of the original colour scheme of the house. Cool colours within an entry with little lighting can lead into a depressing space. One of the better ways to shift a visually cool area to an inviting one would be to choose work which has very warm colorings. There's also nothing beats nature's colours to warm a space.RepetitionOnce I chose the art for any focal point on this space, I relocated the colour around in the pillow and think about on the opposite wall. Also be aware the repetition with the diamonds through the bench back again to the orange pillow and the lower crystal vase. The vertical traces inside the tree trunks may also be reinforced within the tall, sparse floral agreement and the light fixture. Actually the verticals in the entranceway frame are undertaking their aspect in repetition.IDEAS for Small Living Spaces Pastel, Small living spaces and Living roomsContrastThat's where your room will sink or swim. Every place needs comparison or will be boring. Contrast produces layers/depth and facilitates mover your attention around a space. The dark woods in this particular space stand out against the mild walls. The light flower, dish, lamp shade and trim work stand out against the walls along with the darker wood.Subject matterChoose images you connect with and just forget about what everybody else thinks. If a work doesn't speak to you why take the time to have it?Finding just the right artwork is always a challenge, but in my mind the proper piece could make a whole place sing.
http://myhomedreamshome.blogspot.com/2019/07/living-in-small-spaces-ideas-from-paris.html
0 notes