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Napoleonville [Chapter 6: The House Of Salt And Scales]
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Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.
Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, infidelity, Evangelical Christians, kids, parenthood, Willis Warning, (Mis)Adventures With Aegon, Targ family dysfunction, bodily injury, blood, alligators, ANGST!!!
Word Count: 7.5k.
Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.
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“Did you hear that Willis is single again?”
Ugh. “Yes, Mama. I heard. You told me already.” You linger in the doorway with a white bakery box in your hands: your mother’s favorite, grasshopper pie, straight out of the 1960s. She allegedly ate through two a week when she was pregnant with you. Cadi has already dashed inside and made herself at home; she’s probably jamming the movie she got from Blockbuster—Predator, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Amir recommended it—into the VHS player. “You told me, Willis told me, all his deputies told me, Cadi told me, my mailman told me, the checkout ladies at the Piggly Wiggly told me, literally every resident of Napoleonville has informed me in no uncertain terms that Willis is single again. And I could not possibly care less.”
Your mother sighs and presses a hand to her forehead, wounded and incredulous, like she’s just watched a 60 Minutes segments about a tsunami or a genocide. “I just don’t understand it. In my day, people married for life.”
You glance back longingly at your Chevy Celebrity. “Yeah. I know they did.”
“When your father, and God rest his soul, when he was young, he was a hellion,” your mother says, as if you don’t remember it, as if you weren’t there. “He’d get his paycheck every Friday and stay out all night with his buddies, sometimes he didn’t come home the whole weekend. I’d lay into him when he finally showed, I’d say, ‘Rene, how on earth am I supposed to put dinner on the table if I don’t have any fish in the icebox?!’ Once he punched a hole in the kitchen wall and I had to cover it up with a picture of President Eisenhower! And I never even thought about leaving. How could I have done that to you? Forcing you to grow up in a broken home? Mothers and fathers living apart, whoever heard of such a thing? It’s unnatural.”
You’re brainstorming recipes to distract yourself. Caramel pretzel cookies. Banana chiffon pie. Cheese Danish cupcakes with diced cherries and a hint of vanilla. “Everyone draws their own lines, Mama.”
“But it’s not just about you,” she implores, her eyes shimmering with sympathy she never had for other women. You remember what she said on the rare occasions you confided in her about your frustrations with Willis: Of course a man isn’t going to want you bothering him with your feelings when he’s had a hard day at work. Of course a man—after you’ve had his baby, after you almost died to do it—is going to be crossing off days on the calendar until you can have sex again. He keeps a roof over your head and he never hits you, what more could you ask for? “What about Cadi? What if she grows up thinking that her marriage vows don’t mean anything? It’s the foundation of society, marriage. If that goes, everything goes.”
It’s the foundation of a lot of coercion and unfairness and misery, that’s for sure. “I wouldn’t want Cadi to stay in a situation that makes her unhappy. Would you?”
Your mother throws her hands up, like you’ve told her you’re converting to communism and catching the next flight to the USSR. “Life isn’t just about happiness, sweetheart! It’s about commitment, it’s about responsibility! If everyone did what they wanted all the time, no one would stay married!”
“Maybe that speaks to the value of marriage as an institution.”
“And morality is already falling apart in this country,” your mother continues, ignoring you. That’s what she does when she can’t refute facts, logic, evidence. “Young people living together, women having babies with two or three different men, people doing drugs, people on Welfare, people shooting and stabbing each other, sex shops everywhere, naughty magazines at gas stations, men wanting to marry other men—”
“Okay, Mama. I really have to go now.”
“Alright, I’ll shut up. I will, I will, I swear.” She makes peace with a brisk kiss to your cheek like a stamp on an envelope. “Enjoy a nice quiet night to yourself. Do you have any plans?”
Well, Mama, I’m trying to resist the temptation to call my engaged dominant oil tycoon not-boyfriend and tell him to come over for kinky adulterous sex. “Not really. I’ll probably take a bubble bath and then watch something Cadi would think is boring, like 20/20.” You hand over the bakery box, and your mother’s face lights up.
“Grasshopper pie?!”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. You know it’s hard for me to make it myself anymore. This rheumatoid arthritis, it’s got me all twisted up.” She nods down to where her fingers grip the box, knobby and increasingly useless.
“When’s your next appointment?”
“I’ve got one in…oh…about three weeks, I think. I’d have to check my daybook. All the way over in New Orleans with some specialist that Dr. Cormier recommended.”
“Okay. Want me to go with you?”
“Yes, that’d be fine.” It would be more than fine; she wants you to go, though she won’t say it. You aren’t sure if she doesn’t want to impose or doesn’t want to admit how reliant she’s becoming upon you, like growing up in reverse.
“Mawmaw!” Cadi shouts from inside the house. “Hurry up! I want to watch Predator!”
“You quit your hollering, I’ll be right there!” Then your mother looks to you and offers one last piece of very unsolicited advice. “Just be kind to Willis, alright? Give him a chance. I don’t think he’ll ever find a woman he likes as much as you. That’s what everyone says.”
“Mama, he has no idea who I am.” And he’s not interested either.
“Sure he does. You’re the mother of his child, and you always will be. Maybe you’ll find your way back to each other.”
“I’ll think about it.” You definitely won’t. “Goodnight, Mama.”
“So long.” She shuffles into the house, and once she’s shut the door you hear her muffled voice: “Arcadia, come on over here and help me slice up this pie…”
You drive home with the windows down and blasting St. Elmo’s Fire. There’s still an hour or two of sunlight left; the world is painted in gold and blood orange, the soybeans, the sugarcane, the grass growing tall and wild, the Spanish moss swinging from the trees, the earth ripening as its revolution hurtles towards the apex of summer. Cadi is out of school until August. Amir will be announcing his looming departure to San Francisco. Aemond will be getting married.
The adolescent alligator that Aemond is so afraid of is in the far corner of the front yard, basking in the last of the daylight. You walk into your room, flop down on the bed, lie there staring longingly at the pink phone on your nightstand. You reach to pick it up, then stop yourself. Aemond hasn’t fucked you, hasn’t kissed you, has rarely touched you at all since you found out about Christabel. But he stops by your house and invites you to his; he stitches himself into your life like someone somewhere once sutured his face back together.
I can’t. It’s wrong. He’s engaged.
Aemond doesn’t know you’re home alone. It’s Friday, and usually Cadi would be here with you until tomorrow morning.
Maybe it’s not really cheating until he’s married. I mean, if Aemond and Christabel aren’t sleeping together, if they almost never see each other…is it even a real relationship?
Wistful thinking, yes, denial, yes; but with each passing minute your resolve not to pick up the phone weakens.
We don’t have much longer until the wedding. Our time is slipping away.
He’s a robber baron. He’s arrogant, he’s delusional.
And I want him. I still do, and I can’t stop.
The phone rings. You sit up, startled. It’s not Aemond, you tell yourself so you won’t be disappointed when it isn’t him. But it is.
“Hi,” Aemond says; he sounds out of breath. “I’m really sorry to bother you.”
“No, it’s okay, Cadi is actually having a sleepover with my mom. They’re watching Predator. My mom has no idea what it’s about, she’ll be clutching that Bible she got signed by Jerry Falwell a little extra hard tonight. What’s up?”
“This is going to sound random, but…you haven’t seen Aegon, have you? He hasn’t shown up at your house, he hasn’t called? You don’t know where he is?”
Aegon? Why would I know anything about what Aegon’s doing right now? “Um, no…?”
A long exhale, a lull that’s full of dread.
“Aemond, what’s going on?”
“He and my father got into it a few hours ago. They were screaming at each other, kicking furniture over, which isn’t all that unusual, honestly. But then Aegon ran away.”
“Wait, like, he’s gone…?”
“He stormed out the back door, went down to the lake, and then headed north into the trees. And I assumed he’d be back by now, but it’s getting dark and he’s not here. He never came home. His Porsche is still sitting in the driveway.” There is a pause. “I think he’s out there.”
“Out where?”
“In the woods,” Aemond says, shellshocked, terrified. “In the bayou.”
Your eyes dart to the window; the golden daylight is dwindling. “Aemond, he can’t be alone in the bayou. It’s dangerous. He could die. There aren’t just alligators, there are wild boars, cottonmouths, copperheads, snapping turtles, brown recluses, fire ants, I don’t think there are any black bears this far south but it’s always possible, he could drown, he could get trapped in quicksand, you cannot let Aegon spend the night out there.”
“I don’t know what to do.” You’re not used to hearing this in Aemond’s voice: the panic, the vulnerability. “No one else seems worried. They said he disappears all the time, and that’s true. They’re convinced he’s found his way to a strip club or a Waffle House or something and will drag himself home eventually. No one will listen to me. My father has forbidden me from getting anyone else involved. He doesn’t want gossip getting around town and overshadowing the new rig project or…you know. The wedding thing. My wedding. And I can go over his head, sure, I can make calls, but when investigators show up here to start searching my father is just going to tell them to leave. How is it even possible to find Aegon? At night in a fucking swamp? Is anyone going to be willing to go out there before morning? Do I need people with bloodhounds or a helicopter?”
No way, you think as soon as the idea hits you. But it’s the right thing to do. It’s the only thing to do. “I can think of someone who knows their way around the bayou.”
~~~~~~~~~~
It’s just after 7 p.m. when Willis arrives to pick you up: grinning smugly, mullet fluffed, Plymouth Gran Fury hauling his brand new 20-foot jon boat. He’s dressed for night fishing in boots, camo-colored waders, and a grey hoodie with SHERIFF printed across the front in black letters. You climb into the passenger seat wearing sneakers, denim shorts, and a blue raincoat over your Pepsi t-shirt. You haven’t been fishing since you were married to Willis, and you’ve never missed it. It’s a grisly business: hooks through lips, hooks through eyeballs, hooks swallowed and tangled up in some doomed creature’s guts.
Aemond is waiting at the mouth of the Targaryens’ driveway, just out of sight of the mansion they call The Last Desire. He gets in the back seat and sits there testily with his arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line, glaring out the window as an indistinct blur of primeval vegetation passes by outside. He has on his Marlboro jacket, light-wash jeans, and Adidas sneakers. You hope he doesn’t ruin them; although you suppose he can always buy more. He could buy a hundred more, a thousand more, and it wouldn’t make a difference. You can’t fathom what it’s like to live that way. It seems to conflict with all the laws of man and nature.
Aemond speaks grudgingly to Willis, a quick flat statement that invites no conversation. He didn’t call Willis to explain the situation, you did. You’re afraid to leave them alone with each other. You aren’t sure who would be more likely to end up a corpse decomposing in the muddy silt at the bottom of Lake Verret. “Thank you for agreeing to help with this.”
Willis chuckles warmly, either oblivious to Aemond’s prickliness or unbothered by it. “Bien sur! It’s my job, son. We’ll hunt your brother down.” Then he glances over at you, smirking, prying. “So, sugar…how’d you two make each other’s acquaintance?”
“Amir and I baked the cakes for his engagement party.”
“Engagement party, huh?” Willis looks at Aemond in the rearview mirror. “You gettin’ married?”
Aemond is still staring out the window. “Obviously.”
“So you ain’t single?”
“Legally, I am in fact single until the day the marriage license is signed.”
Willis returns his attention to you. “So he ain’t the petit ami you’ve been so secretive about.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, Willis. I really can’t be more clear than that.”
“Oh, I know you got one. I know all your looks, sugar. Some days you come ‘round my office lookin’ lovesick, like you’re just a-floatin’ on a cloud. Other days you’re real mean, like you don’t want me takin’ none of your time, like you got somebody more important to spend it on. And then sometimes you just look…” He smiles, mischievous. “Well, how can I put it? Satisfied. The cat who ate the canary. And I recall exactly what that looks like on you. It’s been a while, sure. But I remember.”
From the back seat, Aemond sighs irritably. You say to Willis: “Can we please focus on finding Aegon?”
“Sois calme, sois calme. That’s why I’m here. We’ll be in the water in ten minutes.”
There is no more discussion; the only sound is the radio, Holding Out For A Hero by Bonnie Tyler. Willis turns onto a winding dirt road that leads to a boat launch about a mile from the Targaryens’ property. He spins his Plymouth Gran Fury around and backs it down the concrete ramp towards the rippling, slow-moving currents of Lake Verret. It’s difficult to see from the driver’s seat—most people would have someone get out to guide them—but Willis knows the way by heart. He’s been on boats since before he could walk; Willis’ daddy knew the bayou, and his daddy knew the bayou, and his daddy did too, all the way back to before the Louisiana Purchase. Your family are newer arrivals (relatively speaking), having only been in Napoleonville for about 100 years and keeping mostly to the town. You remember your 11th grade science teacher saying once that alligators have been around since before the dinosaurs went extinct. Maybe that’s what Willis is: a relic of a distant time and species, afflicted with a cunning ruggedness that won’t allow his kind to go extinct.
When the trailer is mostly underwater, Willis gets out of the car to unhook the straps that keep the boat moored to it. You go outside to help and Aemond follows, though he doesn’t know what to do. He’s never handled a boat this size and it shows; perhaps a yacht would be more his speed. He stands aside and watches, frowning, hands buried in the pockets of his Marlboro jacket. His lack of expertise riles him. He’s not used to being the incapable one. He hates not having control.
Willis already has a tow rope tied to a metal handle at the bow of the jon boat; he lifts it out and gives the free end to Aemond. “Hold onto that, will ya? Don’t let her get away.”
“Sure,” Aemond replies ungenerously. Willis returns to his Plymouth Gran Fury to finish backing the trailer into the lake until the boat floats. Standing on the shore together, you and Aemond stare at each other, unable to speak honestly, unable to decide what you’d say even if you could.
The jon boat bobs in the water, and you show Aemond how to pull it away from the trailer using the tow rope. Willis drives the trailer back onto dry land, parks his car in a flat area near the boat launch, and then joins you and Aemond by the water’s edge. He walks to where the boat is floating just to the right side of the concrete ramp and, with some difficulty, clambers inside as the boat rocks under his weight. Then he stands in the middle of it and gestures for you to approach. “Let’s get goin’, sugar.”
You take Willis’ hands when he reaches for you and let him help you into the jon boat. When you stumble over a bench seat, he steadies you with a hand on your waist, familiar but in no way erotic; not for you, at least. Still, from where he is standing on the lakeshore with the tow rope, Aemond glowers venomously.
“Your turn, son,” Willis calls to him, winking. “And I promise not to get too sweet with ya.”
But Aemond doesn’t need any assistance to board the vessel. He has long limbs, good balance, and an ironclad determination not to let Willis see him falter. Aemond sits at the bow of the boat. You claim a spot in the middle. Willis takes a seat at the stern, starts the outboard motor, and guides the boat into the treacherous swampland that lurks like a stalking animal at the edges of Lake Verret.
In the bayou, the water is sluggish, currentless, thick with vivid green salvinia and duckweed. Towering bald cypress trees grow out of the opaque depths and are adorned with greyish, anemic bundles of Spanish moss like spiderwebs. Mangrove trees with their myriad of semi-submerged roots are sanctuaries for catfish, turtles, baby alligators. Larger gators—as big as the female that lives in your yard, and some up to seven or eight feet—prowl with only their nostrils and ancient yellow eyes peeking out from under the water. Great blue herons tiptoe along the shallow shoreline and stab at fish that unknowingly flit between their long skeletal legs. Cicadas shriek in the trees so loudly they almost drown out the hum of the boat’s motor. When the last of the daylight vanishes, Willis tells Aemond to turn on the spotlight mounted to the bow, and the water becomes a soupy, greenish, primordial witch’s brew beneath its glow. Aemond lights a cigarette and puffs on it as he ponders this alien corner of the world that he’s found himself in.
Willis has a number of items stowed on the flat aluminum floor of the boat, you notice now: nets, paddles in case the motor fails, bottles of water, ropes, fishing poles, flashlights, hunting knives, a few sturdy wooden walking sticks. He’s wearing his sheriff’s pistol on a belt fastened over his waders. This makes you uneasy, though you can’t recall ever seeing him use it. It seems wrong to be able to end a life with so little effort.
“Aegon!” Aemond shouts from the bow, using a flashlight to look to the sides of the boat where the spotlight’s luminescence doesn’t shine so brightly. You grab your own flashlight to help him search. “Aegon! Where are you?!”
There’s something burning in your nose and throat as you lean over the side of the boat to peer into the shadowy wilderness. Salt, you realize, but that doesn’t make any sense. Lake Verret is a freshwater lake. You turn towards where Willis is steering the boat with the rumbling gas-powered motor. “Do you smell that?”
“Yup. Sure do.”
“But…how…?”
“One of the rigs mighta hit a salt dome while they were drillin’, I figure,” Willis says. “There’s been talk for years that we got salt domes under the lake. But that don’t stop these oil companies.” He stares meaningfully at Aemond. Aemond glances back, rather abashed. “And ya know what that means. If the water turns brackish, most of the fish’ll die. And who’s got to live with that for generations to come? Not the Targaryens or the Rockefellers, that’s for sure.”
Aemond resumes shouting for his wayward eldest brother. A dark snake, perhaps six feet long, slithers down the length of the boat through the murky water. “Aegon! Aegon!”
“What did he and Viserys argue about?” you ask.
Aemond is cagy. “It’s…kind of personal.”
“Personal like he got a stripper pregnant or personal like he murdered someone in a drunken hit-and-run?”
“Neither. But closer to the first option.” Then he roars into the darkness: “Aegon!”
“Maybe the bon a rien already found his way back home,” Willis says. “Maybe—”
And then there is an echo through the bayou, faint but vaguely human, a ghost, a phantom. “Aegon!” Aemond shouts back. “Where are you?!” Willis cuts the boat engine so you can hear the reply.
Faintly, very faintly, his disembodied voice drifts out of the trees. “Over here! Help me! Quickly! Seriously, really really quickly!!”
“Keep talking!” Aemond yells. Willis is listening intently, trying to pinpoint a direction. His thick, dark eyebrows are knit together in concentration that is rare for him.
Barely audible over the screams of the cicadas: “What the fuck am I supposed to say?! Just get over here and save me!”
“We’re trying to figure out where your voice is coming from, so don’t stop talking!”
“Help me! Come help me!! Right now!! My arms are getting tired!!”
“What? What are you doing with your arms?!”
“I got him,” Willis says. He restarts the motor and steers the boat down a narrow corridor of the swamp. The path is only about ten yards wide and bordered by mangrove trees with nests of exposed, labyrinthian roots. The water is probably relatively shallow: five feet, ten feet, just deep enough for secrets. The breeze is cool and wet, almost chilly. On the shore, you spy a snapping turtle the size of a golden retriever. Its long prehistoric claws are coated with mud and green blades of marsh grass. It ogles you as if to say: What are you doing here? You don’t belong here. This is where the dinosaurs that survived the asteroid live.
“Aegon?” Aemond calls.
“Here! Over here! I can see you, I see the lights! Oh my God, I’m not gonna die! Thank you Jesus!”
Aemond laughs in relief. “I didn’t think you two knew each other.”
“Shut up and save me, you muppet!”
And then you see Aegon—the spotlight hits him, he is illuminated in a stark white glow—and your stomach plummets, your blood goes cold. In an alcove of the bayou, right where the water meets the shore, Aegon is up in a bald cypress tree. He’s about five feet off the ground and standing on top of a branch just thick enough to hold his weight. It’s too narrow to balance comfortably on; he is hugging the trunk to ensure he doesn’t fall, and a fall would be catastrophic. Sprawled on the muck surrounding the base of the tree are a plethora of alligators, all approximately ten feet in length. That’s big enough to be lethal humans. That would be big enough to kill a bear, a horse, a shark. When the spotlight shines on them, the gators begin to squirm and hiss, glaring with soulless reptilian wrath at the boat. Willis shuts off the motor, and the boat bobs placidly.
“Oh, fuck,” Aemond says.
“Yeah, exactly!” Aegon pitches back. He’s wearing an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and tiny turquoise blue shorts. He is barefoot. “So what’s the plan?! By the way, hey, cake lady.”
“Hi, Aegon.”
Aemond says: “How the hell did you get up there?”
“I was pissed off about the dad thing and I was walking for a long time, then I realized I was probably in the wrong neighborhood for someone with two legs and no desire to get eaten. I tried to find my way back but then these pig-looking things started chasing me and I freaked out and climbed up here to hide until they left. But as the sun went down, alligators started showing up. And the more time went by, the more alligators there were. And that’s the whole story, can you get me down now?!”
Aemond asks Willis, petrified: “How do we get him down?”
Willis surveys the scene for a moment, thinking. “Alright. Here’s what I reckon. We can toss him one end of a rope and he can tie it to the branch above him, right at the base where it’s real thick. Then we’ll hold the other end of the rope, and he can kinda shimmy on down it into the boat.”
Aegon says: “But what if right before I get to the boat, when I’m like four feet above the water, an alligator jumps out and bites me?”
“They don’t usually do that,” Willis replies.
“Usually?!”
“Look, we don’t have a lot of options,” Aemond tells his brother. “We can do the rope plan now, or we can leave you here, backtrack all the way to the boat launch, get the car, get some help, and hope they magically have a better solution for you. Or you can wait up there until morning to see if the alligators leave. You pick.”
“Isn’t that the hick sheriff guy? Can’t he shoot them?”
“Gators got brains ‘bout the size of a walnut, son,” Willis says. “And if I don’t hit ‘em where it counts, I’m just gonna make them angrier. That ain’t good for any of us.”
“Okay,” Aegon concedes. “Throw me a rope.”
Willis grabs one from the bottom of the jon boat, hands an end to Aemond, and tosses the other to Aegon. It takes the eldest Targaryen boy four attempts to catch it; the rope keeps falling and smacking the hissing alligators in the face before Willis lugs it back to the boat to try again. Once he finally obtains the rope, Aegon knots it—double, triple, quadruple—around where the branch above him, just barely within reach if he stretches as far as he can, meets the massive trunk of the bald cypress tree. Willis tells Aemond: “Now ya gotta hold the rope real tight. No slack at all, or it’ll dip and he’ll end up in a gator’s lap.”
“Yeah, Aemond!” Aegon says, his voice shaky. “No slack!”
“Got it.” Aemond loops his end of the rope around his waist, makes a knot, and then grips it with both hands and tugs it until it forms a straight diagonal line from the tree to the boat.
“Ya sure you wanna do that?” Willia says softly, nodding to Aemond’s waist. “If somethin’ goes wrong and he ends up in the water, you’ll be goin’ in with him.”
“I’m sure.”
“Alrighty.” Willis grabs one of the heavy wooden walking sticks from the aluminum floor of the boat. “If a gator tries to cause a problem, I’ll whack ‘em good. Don’t let ‘em get their jaws ‘round ya, not an arm or a leg or nothin’. If they get ahold of ya, they’ll roll and rip your bones right outta the sockets.”
“Awesome,” Aegon says from the tree. “I’m so glad you told me that. Yeah. Great. Any more super helpful alligator trivia, Sasquatch?”
“Yes sir. If one chomps down on ya, poke it in the eye with your fingers. A whack to the snout or a poke to the eye is the best way outta a gator’s mouth.”
Aegon gulps and clutches the rope, steeling himself.
“What should I do?” you ask Willis. “Should I get a stick too—?”
“Nothin’. You don’t do nothin’. You just sit down right in the middle and keep the boat steady. And if your petit ami starts goin’ overboard, maybe try to snatch him. But don’t ya fall in. Ya don’t want to be in that water. If there are gators above the water, there are gators below too. I guarantee it.”
You sit in the precise middle of the boat, using your weight to reinforce the vessel’s center of gravity as Aemond and Willis stand at opposing ends. Right before Aegon begins his descent, Aemond snags your attention. He makes a motion with one hand, a slicing, a prohibition. Don’t do anything insane, he means. Don’t risk trying to drag me back into the boat if I start going over.
“Whenever ya ready, bon a rien,” Willis says. And no one else but you knows that what he’s calling Aegon is a good-for-nothing.
Aegon begins scurrying down the length of the rope, rapidly closing the distance between himself and the bobbing jon boat. He passes above the hissing gators congregating at the base of the bald cypress tree and then over the water, where there are ripples that multiply out from epicenters and flashes of movement just beneath the surface but no homicidal alligator activity. When Aegon nears the boat, Willis seizes him and helps him into it; and then Aegon ruptures into hysterical giggles.
“I almost died, can you believe that?” he asks Aemond, who is untying the rope from his waist and beaming, the first real smile you’ve seen from him tonight. “Because I ran away from Viserys?! What an idiotic way to go. I’ll never let that bastard convince me to off myself. I gotta outlive him. I gotta do Jello shots on that motherfucker’s grave someday.”
“Yeah, you do,” Aemond agrees, squeezing Aegon’s shoulder.
“Goddammit,” Willis grumbles. He’s using his walking stick to jab at the water near the rear of the boat. “We’re hooked on a mangrove root or something.”
“Do you need help?” Aemond asks, headed towards him.
“Yes sir, if you’d be so kind. I don’t…I can’t see…what the hell is it stuck to?”
“The motor…? The blades of the motor?”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, you’re right. Yup. There it is. We musta drifted into it while we were preoccupied. Okay, we gotta push the boat off the root and then we can get movin’ again. Grab a stick, let’s start pushin’.”
“Should I get a stick too?” Aegon says, joining them. “I can hit stuff with sticks. I really want to get out of here…”
There’s a bit of a commotion at the back of the boat as the men try to propel it away from the mangrove tree. Willis is complaining that the water is too deep to touch the bottom with his stick. Aemond’s stick keeps slipping off the mangrove roots when he tries to get leverage. You aren’t sure what Aegon is contributing, if anything. The boat has begun to rock.
You look to the tree where Aegon had been imprisoned. The alligators are fully awake now; they are headed into the water and disappearing there, unseen, unheard, and yet all around you.
“I think we need to go now,” you say, but no one is listening to you. They’re still wrestling with the mangrove root. You rise, taking a few steps to the left to offset the boat’s listing towards the right. “Guys, we need to—”
The boat is freed from its organic jailor and lurches sharply towards the left. As the men cheer triumphantly—completely unaware of what’s happening—you are jolted off your feet and tumble backwards over the side of the boat.
The shock of hitting the water stuns you. It is cold and impossibly dark; when you open your eyes to try to find the surface, the boat, you can’t see anything. You paddle blindly. Something brushes your leg, and you scream bubbles of mute terror. You can’t breathe, you can’t think, you are picturing those ten-foot gators slinking into the water that you’re now thrashing wildly through. You swim towards what you think is the surface and strike unyielding metal—the underbelly of the boat—hard enough to put stars in your skull like the flashes of lightning bugs. You get turned around and don’t know where you are again. Something glides past your arm, and you gasp before remembering that there’s no air. Dark water—salt and silt and decomposition—surges into your lungs, your stomach, sinking you like an anchor from within. There is a whirlpool of motion around you and muffled shouting. Then something closes around your wrist.
The eyes! you think frantically. I have to poke out its eyes!
But the vice around your flesh has no teeth. It’s not a reptilian jaw, you realize now, but a human hand. It leads you and you obey.
When you break the surface, you cough bayou water from your throat and blink it out of your eyes. Willis is leaning over the side of the boat and stabbing at gators with his stick, shrieking at them in French. One lunges at him from the water, jaws snapping. Willis whips the pistol off his belt, aims it squarely between the creature’s eyes, and fires. The boom is deafening; the bleeding gator sinks into the water. Aegon is kneeling in the boat and offering his arms to help you climb up.
You look beside you. Aemond is barely keeping his head above water. “Go!” he orders you. “Get in the boat!”
With Aegon’s help, you heave yourself over the side and collapse to the aluminum floor, lungs aching, skull pounding, heart thudding mercilessly, soaked to the skin. Then you force yourself to your hands and knees to see where Aemond is.
“Aemond?!” Aegon is yelling. “Aemond, where are you?!”
He’s gone; you don’t see him in the water. You try to scream for him too, but the water still in your throat strangles you. Your hands close around the edge of the boat, and Willis grabs your raincoat to yank you backwards. “Other side!” says, pointing. “We’re gonna capsize, we need weight on the other side, go there!”
You scramble to the opposite end of the boat, sobbing now, still hacking up muddy water. Where’s Aemond?? Where is he??
Both Willis and Aegon are grasping for something. They’re shouting and stabbing into the water with their walking sticks. And then they’re hauling him into the boat: Aemond, blood pouring down the left side of his face, a gash by his temple, another on his forehead; something bit him or clawed him. He’s wearing only his jeans and a white tank top; he ripped off his Marlboro jacket before diving in after you. You don’t see his Adidas sneakers anywhere. They must have been kicked off in the water. His glass eye has been knocked out and lost in the muck. What’s left in its place is a void, gaping, pink; it’s difficult to look at, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t. It has the visceral, gory quality of organs never meant to be seen. His fingertips go to the socket to feel for his prosthetic. When he confirms it isn’t there, he covers his face with his hands and moans.
He saved me. He jumped in after me.
You crawl to him. “Aemond—”
“No!” He pushes you away, and you see that there’s blood and ancient silt from the bayou in his empty eye socket. It will have to be cleaned out. Willis watches, astonished, bewildered. For once, he is at a loss for words.
“Aemond, please…” You’d do anything to help him. You don’t know how to help him.
He saved me.
Aegon reaches for Aemond. “Hey, hey. It’s not that bad. Hey…” He drops to his knees, presses his forehead against Aemond’s, stains himself with his brother’s blood. And when Aemond tries to pull away, Aegon doesn’t let him; he’s got his fingers tangled in Aemond’s wet hair. “Thank you for saving me. I’m always almost getting myself killed and you’re always saving me. What would I do without you, huh? None of us would be okay without you. Thank you, Aemond. You hear me? You’re not gonna get this again anytime soon, so listen up. Thank you. Thank you.”
“I’m just so—”
“I know.”
“I hate that I’m like this.”
“It’s not a big deal. You’ll order a new one.”
“You know what he’s going to say.”
“Fuck him. Why do you care what he thinks? Because you think he’s the one who gets to decide what you’re worth? He isn’t. He’s not qualified.”
Aemond nods, but he doesn’t seem to be convinced. He still doesn’t look at you. He turns so the left side of his face—bloodied, eyeless—is angled towards the water and out of your view. Willis goes to the motor, starts it, and begins guiding the boat back towards the launch where he parked his Plymouth Gran Fury.
Aegon glances over at you. “You okay, cake lady?”
“Yeah.” But your voice shakes. The rest of you is shaking too; now that the adrenaline is wearing off, you can feel that you’re shivering in your wet clothes.
“Put it on,” Aemond says softly, and at first you don’t understand. Then you see that he’s pointing to his Marlboro jacket, left hurriedly flung on the floor of the boat. You unzip your dripping raincoat and don Aemond’s Marlboro jacket instead. It smells like him: smoke, cologne, effort, secrets.
“Thank you,” you tell him, wanting to say more. Aemond doesn’t answer. He stares into the murky water, greenish under the glare of the spotlight, and says nothing to anyone all the way back to the boat launch. Wordlessly, he helps Willis re-hitch the jon boat to the trailer. He remembers the steps. He’s a fast learner. The blood on his face is drying; his right eye won’t allow itself to look at you. The only sound on the drive to the Targaryens’ mansion is the radio of the Plymouth Gran Fury, which Willis turns up to cover the silence: In A Big Country.
At the end of the cobblestone driveway, lights are on in the vast house called The Last Desire. Everyone gets out of the car. Willis shakes a rather puzzled Aegon’s hand, then turns to Aemond, who ignores him. Willis chuckles, more curious than offended.
“So ya are the man who’s been givin’ her that satisfied look. I knew it. Yes, I knew what I saw. What’s your secret, son? Ya must really know your way around a woman if ya got her so mad about ya with a face like that. Ya look like the Rougarou got ahold of ya—”
Aemond grabs Willis by his hoodie, yanks him off his feet, jacks him up against the side of the sheriff’s vehicle. Immediately, you and Aegon are shouting and trying to break them apart.
You plead: “Aemond, don’t!”
“Aemond, he’s got a gun!” Aegon screeches.
Fortunately, Willis isn’t grappling for his pistol. He holds both palms in the air, open and empty, like he’s surrendering; but there’s still a smile on his face. Aemond doesn’t act like he’s heard anyone. He leans in close to Willis, his voice low and dark and snarling, his sole blue eye glinting. “You had so much in your filthy fucking hands and you just threw it away.” Then he slams Willis against the car one more time, tears away from him, and strides up the porch steps and into the house.
Aegon hurries after him, casting you a quick glance and a beckoning wave. It’s an invitation. You coming? Aegon mouths, and then vanishes inside.
Willis peers up at the house: stained glass windows, immense white columns. You don’t see any signs of Vhagar the Great Dane. Willis speaks calmly and without looking at you. “I think he’s in love with you, sugar.”
Improbable. Impossible. If he was, he couldn’t marry someone else. “He’s not.”
Now Willis’ eyes flick to you. “All I’m sayin’ is that I’ve been fishin’ on that lake since as long as I can remember, day, night, sun, storms, and nothin’ on earth would have gotten me to jump into that water. Not even Heather Locklear herself.”
“Just go, Willis,” you say, exhausted, heartsick. “Thank you for what you did tonight. But please go now.”
“How ya gonna get home?”
“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me.”
“Of that, I am incapable,” Willis drawls. Then he climbs into his Plymouth Gran Fury and is gone. You sprint up the porch steps in your soggy sneakers, searching for Aemond.
In the white-and-gold foyer, Viserys is just arriving. He struts across the marble floor until he is close enough to his two oldest sons to embrace them, to hit them, to extract their teeth with his knuckles. The others pour through the doorways—Alicent, Criston, Helaena, Daeron, Otto—but while they gape in horror and fascination, they don’t speak in anything more than murmurs amongst themselves. Viserys steals only a glimpse of Aegon, swift and disinterested, then examines Aemond: wet clothes, no shoes, grime and blood, dazed fury. When his cool, pale gaze reaches Aemond’s empty eye socket, Viserys flinches and looks away.
“So you lost another prosthetic,” is all he says. His face twists into a grimace. And you expect Aemond to do something, to jab back, but he doesn’t. He’s frozen, he’s paralyzed. His right eye is misty. He’s biting his lips so they don’t tremble. And suddenly you hate Viserys Targaryen, you hate him more than you can imagine hating anyone. You think that you could watch his entrails unspooled from his body without feeling a thing. The Targaryen family patriarch hasn’t spoken to you; you don’t register to him at all. You might as well be an oriental vase or a house plant.
“You’re the one who did it, Viserys,” Aegon says, stepping in front of Aemond seething and sharp like a blade. “You remember that part? I do. I remember. The North Sea, 1968. I remember him trotting around after you, always so desperate to prove himself, always doing anything you asked, anything you could dream up, worshipping you like you were God. And where were you when he was getting his eye socket debrided at Moorfields Hospital? In fact, where were you when he got his hands caught in a winch when he was eleven? Where were you when he fell off a pipe deck and broke six ribs because one of your idiot employees forgot to close a safety gate and he couldn’t see it? Where were you then? Where are you now?”
Viserys scowls down at him—revolted, repelled—but he doesn’t reply. He feels no instinct to defend himself. He is unable to internalize shame; it rolls off him like raindrops.
“You’d love me so much if I was dead,” Aegon says, grinning, baring his teeth like an animal. “How sick is that? You can love bones in a box, but not someone standing right in front of you. You love Aemma, a ghost. You love Baelon, and you never even knew him. You’ve got nothing for me. That’s fine, I don’t care, I’ll be alright without you.” He points to Aemond. “But you’ve got nothing for him either, and he’s everything you always wanted. You’re disgusting, you’re broken. You belong in a box too. The part of you that was human is gone. I don’t give a fuck about what’s left.”
Aegon shoves Viserys, hard, and then storms past him. As he crosses into the kitchen, Helaena grabs for his wrist. You can hear her whisper: “What the hell happened?!”
Then Aegon remembers one last thing. He whirls around and bellows at Viserys, his voice reverberating off the vaulted ceilings: “And I’m not getting my vasectomy reversed! You can’t make me! It’s bioethics! I asked the lawyer!” He stomps off and disappears, Helaena in tow.
Alicent shoots Viserys a hateful glare and then flees from the foyer, her long auburn ringlets streaming out behind her. Viserys goes in the opposite direction. Daeron and Otto share an awkward glance and then depart as well. Only you, Criston, and Aemond remain in the room, surrounded by treasures that might as well be handfuls of earth, flour, swamp water, salt.
Cautiously, Criston lays a hand on Aemond’s shoulder, on his right side where he can see it. “Aemond…”
“Don’t touch me,” Aemond says as he wrenches away. He leaves like a hurricane, like a flood, receding until there remains only wreckage and memory.
Criston sighs deeply, and then he asks you: “Do you need a ride home?”
You don’t respond. You haven’t decided how to yet. You stare at the place where Aemond stood, a void like a star that died out. Do I follow him upstairs? you think.
Do I?
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malicedragoness · 7 months
Text
Ok, but what if Syzoth can transform into an actual lizard? Not a Zaterran (is this what they’re being called now?), but like a monitor lizard or an iguana. And he can accidentally change back when he’s caught off guard.
(Not proof read. We die like men. And if you can guess the 80s movie reference you get a cookie 🍪)
@bihansthot Syzoth fluff 🤗
Imagine it:
Syzoth only turns into an iguana when he’s extremely weak and is trying to hide from whoever is pursuing him.
He’s got gashes on him, he’s cold, and has been starving. He can’t hold his form anymore. He transforms and climbs into a tree to hide and make himself small. He tries to stay invisible until they’re gone, but it’s getting too difficult.
Once his pursuers are gone, he decides to rest there and falls asleep. Hours later, he wakes up when he hears a noise.
That’s when Syzoth meets you. You climbed a ladder to pick apples from the tree he’s hiding in. He continues to watch you, ready to transform and jolt if he has to. He’s still not sure if he’s able to. Everything hurts and he feels weak to his bones.
But the longer he watches you pick apples and sing to yourself, he realizes you’re not a threat. Your voice is lovely to his ears. Your hair is so pretty he wants to touch it. Everything about you, your body language and scent, seems so soft and gentle.
When you climb further up and get to his branch, you let out a surprise yelp when you see him.
“Oh my god! Are you ok, little guy?”
Syzoth couldn’t help but laugh internally. He must look horrible being surrounded in green blood. But your wide eyes and sweet voice was so cute.
“Are you alive?” He blinks when you reach to touch his nose.
You look at him and then down to the ground for a few minutes, contemplating your next move. You turn back and pet his nose again. “I’m going to pick you up and take you home, ok? Please let me help you. And please don’t bite me!”
Syzoth closed his eyes shut, pain searing through his body as you carefully pick him up. You settled him against your chest, his claws hooked onto your shirt, little tears already forming, and blood staining your shirt. He did his best to not sink his claws into your flesh, but the pain was making it hard to concentrate.
You climbed down the ladder, as slowly as you can, repeating “Please don’t bite me. Please don’t bite me. Please don’t bite me.” Once you were down the tree, you put him in your basket and took him home.
You spent the next few hours researching everything an iguana needs to survive. You bought a heat lamp, some fruits and greens, giant fake rocks. You’re not sure if you just throw the greens at him or cut them up to make it easier for him to eat. But you’re trying your best.
Syzoth watches you put a bowl of greens and fruits in front of his face and stare at him. If only he could tell you that he would be fine in a few days and all of this wasn’t necessary. Although, he did appreciate all the kind gestures.
After seeing you cry about him not eating the food and worrying about him dying, Syzoth decides to eat the food you prepared for him. His gentle heart couldn’t handle your tears, and it made him happy to see your face light up.
As the days go by, Syzoth lounged on his fake rocks, ate all the food you gave him, and watched you go about your daily routine. You kept calling him ‘Zammis’, and he had no idea what that meant.
He’s healed, but he’s had such a lovely time being with you that he doesn’t wish to go. He knows it’s wrong, keeping this secret from you. But you’re so happy with him there, he couldn’t bear the thought of you crying again.
You fed him his greens while watching a movie. (Another favorite thing of his to do, watching the moving pictures in the giant screen). A princess on the screen kissed a frog and he turned into a prince. You sighed and complained about how unrealistic that is.
Then your face filled Syzoth’s vision.
“Are you a prince, Zammis?”
Syzoth blinked. Then you leaned in further and kissed his nose.
Syzoth’s heart leapt in his throat. And suddenly he’s back in his human form, sitting in front of you on floor. Your hand still holding his bowl of greens and eyes wide as saucers.
“Z-Zammis?”
“Actually, it’s Syzoth, princess.” He said shyly.
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spider-jaysart · 1 year
Text
More baby Supersons Headcanons!!:
When Jon was a toddler, whenever he was offered something from anyone or Clark and Lois, like "Do you want hot chocolate, Dear? "Wanna go get some ice cream?" For example, he would always happily respond with "Yessie please!"
Damian was the type of toddler that would see somebody recording something on their phone (like some dance moves or something) and would literally run over to it, grab it and run away while laughing out loud about it as his brothers chase him to get it back (Inspired by those funny videos where the babies steal their parents phones during a recording of a TikTok)
Damian as a baby would always give Talia cheek kisses, since he wasn't so shy about it due to his young age. He doesn't do it so much anymore though but not completely, since he will sometimes still give her a loving kiss on the cheek just like before
When Jon was 1 years old, he would always cry if he didn't have his Super teddy bear next to him, so whenever he dropped it outside of his carriage or whenever it accidentally got lost somewhere in the house or outside, Lois and Clark would both immediately have to go find it before he starts sobbing loudly. Once they find it and give it back to him, he would feel calm again and fall peacefully asleep
Whenever Talia would carry Damian around in her arms, he would always play with her long hair, pretending it's his mustache or his own hair, he would also play with her jewelry and would sometimes even try putting it in his mouth. She always had to try to stop him from doing that since she didn't want him to some how choke on it and get slobber on them either while playing with them like that. After seeing how difficult this was to do, she decided to wear less jewelry for a while until he stopped this habit of his. He thankfully later did after a while
Jon would used to eat anything as a kid and I mean ANYTHING. So because of this, Lois and Clark would always have to chase after him to get whatever it is that he ate out of his mouth before he swallowed it
Little Damian (being a Momma's boy) always liked to sit down and try whatever his Mother was eating at the table if it was new food that he saw, so she always happily shared it with him
When 3 year old Damian and 2 year old Jon had met eachother, Damian had thought that Bruce was just adopting another child into the family, especially because Jon had blue eye's and dark hair just like his older brothers, so he began to feel a little jealous about this, since he didn't want another sibling living in the house with them and take his attention away. So he angrily went up to little Jon and shoved him, saying "My Baba!". Bruce, surprised by Damian's reaction, immediately grabbed him away from Jon, while Clark and Lois immediately ran to go comfort their little boy. As he asked his son why he did that, Damian told him that he thought he was getting another kid, which made Bruce have to explain to him that's not what was happening at all and told him that Jon is actually Clark and Lois' son and that the young half Kryptonian was excited to meet him and be his friend. Damian, learning this new fact, felt bad for pushing Jon and went to go give him a hug, telling him he was sorry. Jon, who was crying just a minute ago, being the happy boy that he is, surprisingly hugged him back tightly with a smile. They both then went to go play together upstairs with Damian's toys. That was the day when their long lasting friendship with eachother began (this is a reference to a scene from a show btw and whoever guesses it will get a cookie!)
Damian would steal Tim's camera all the time and just take random pictures of him and Jon for fun. Tim was upset when he couldn't find it and almost got mad at Damian when he caught him with it, but after looking at the photos that his little brother took of him and his friend, he just couldn't help but laugh out loud since they were all so silly. This quickly made his anger go away, also making him get up to give his baby brother a hug (Damian tried to push him off but failed) and ruffled his hair. He later showed it to Bruce, who also started laughing when he saw them and later showed them to Clark and Lois when they both came to pick up Jon. The married two began to laugh along with them as well and they decided to make copies of them all to keep them in their respective houses for adorable memories
Damian hates Disney movies, and would always ignore them when they were playing on tv, but whenever Jon is visiting him and begins watching them on the living room tv, Damian will sit right next to him and watch it all the way with him without complaining about anything at all
@theredheaded-stuff @camo-wolf @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65
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atsukinakae · 7 months
Note
Hey! Me again. So hear me out: platonic trans!reader (genderfluid or ftm) coming out too Kenma, tsukki, and/or bokuto (plus whoever you want ofc) as trans. Maybe they are close friends and met during middle school.
~SQ. (Ps! Have a nice night)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hq reacts to Mn coming out to Kenma,Tsuki and Bokuto + Kiyoko
Haikyuu x ftm reader (PLATONIC)
Kenma
• At first his face was neutral,no reaction at all,still processing what you just said to him.
• Very supportive but doesn't show it infront of the others.But watches every movement of yours,to see if your feeling dysphoric.
•Like every other weekend,you two would go to his house or your house to play games, spend some time together or just study for exams.This time was on his house,you came with low energy and he could sense it.
•"Hey,should we keep on going with the game?"Your voice came out just as a whisper,he nodded in response and started the game.
•Dying again and again, couldn't even focus on the game, getting more frustrated by every minute passing.
•And he noticed,every single thing,then suddenly he got up and went to this wardrobe,"Is there something wrong?","That's what I should be asking you",he come back with your fav hoodie and gently helped you to put it on to you.
•"There's nothing wrong...",glassy eyes that once showed sparkles of happiness now are afraid,insecure.
•It has been almost an hour since you were in his arms, crying,ranting and sniffling.
•"Shhh, it's okay, you're safe,you are always safe with me","Listen to me, it's all going to be okay","You have me here Mn".
Tsukishima
•At first he had a 'no expression face',but actually deep down he was happy that you've trusted him enough to tell him
•Yes you were scared of how he will react but it instantly calmed you when he accepted of how you truly are.
•If anyone,and I really mean ANYONE refers to you with the wrong pronoums, they're fucked up.
•While you were waiting for Tsuki and Yamaguchi on the exit door,a classmate came to you and started talking of the project that the teacher gave in the morning,after a while, Tsuki approached you when he noticed that they where using the wrong name and pronoums,""Mn,his is name Mn" he said with a serious face."Whatever"your classmate mumbled under they're breath,"As I was saying d/n,the project has to be-"they were cutted off by Tsuki,"Let's go Mn,I don't want you interacting with this shitty people","Hey am talking, where are you taking her!"they yelled while Tsuki dragged you away from there.
Bokuto
•He was listening when you said it but got distracted.
•You had to repeat yourself again because he asked for it.
•Actually very acceptive,he so happy that hugs you tight.
•The members have to check if you still alive.
"Bokuto,I'm trans"
Silence,no one said anything.
"You want a cookie?"he said with mouth full of cookies.
"I-,umm yeah,thanks"
"Could repeat what you just said, please,I swear I was listening"
"I'm trans..." your voice lower than before.
Suddenly you felt some arms around your small body,now you were trapped in his arms. Giggles being heard from him and a sweet smile on his face.
"Bokuto san, please let Mn breath".Akaashi said while checking that he doesn't hurt you with his arms.
But you were okay,being safe in your best friends strong arms.
Kiyoko
•She already knew.
•Figured out a few later of knowing you
•Always uses your desired name and pronoums.
•Also always corrects people when they say the wrong name/pronoums even if they are intentionally or accidentally wrong.
"Kiyoko san,can we talk?"
"Of course,is everything alright?"
"Yeah,just wanted to tell you something..."
She nodded and let you take your time to say it.
"I'm actually trans"you lowered your head so that you wouldn't see her reaction.
"Oh I already knew that"she giggled and went back to the gym.
You were shocked and followed her asking a lot of questions.
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rainecreatesstuff · 1 year
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ok so the post was made a month ago and i'm sure you've already gotten this ask but what's the symbolism behind the limlife clocks you made?
tbh im low on energy and I wasn’t gonna answer this but then I noticed you’ve got a d20 username and avatar so out of respect for another d20er hanging out in the mcyt fields I will.
anyways
T.I.E.S:
Tango - stopwatch. Lil reference to him running the death games in s1 and 2, also to match his general sense of urgency. Also can be used for red stone timing
Impulse - watch. Simple, practical, but has his own lil flair to it with his logo. Stays on the wrist so he doesn’t have to worry abt other people nabbing it or it getting broken, kinda symbolizes his tendency to play multiple sides to keep himself safe. Also has a day/night cycle, connecting him to Bdubs after double life
Etho - sleek, elegant design. Can be glanced at quickly to see time. Day/night cycle connecting him to Bdubs bc. They cannot be normal about each other. A small sundial bc he’s been around these parts a while and also it just feels like something he would brag about being able to read.
Skizz - forget-me-nots symbolize skizz’s loyalty to his people and his kindness to everyone. Also, as the first to lose a significant amount of time, given as a reminder to. Yknow. Remember him. Cracked after being killed twice by boogeymen in ep 1
Mean Gills:
Martyn - simple, easy to read and glance at, can be clipped to a weapon or tool so he can see it easily, imbued with his status as a follower of the listeners.
Scott - poppy in the middle to symbolize his ties to Jimmy, which keep popping up despite. Everything. A gold heart which is awarded to each of the victors. Scott’s clock originally had chains around it, put there by the Watchers/ higher beings/ whoever to prevent him from messing with his clock, broken immediately bc Scott found them annoying
Nosy Neighbours:
Pearl - locket. Unseen in drawing, but a wolf’s head is carved into the front. Phases of the moon show how much time she has left rather than numbers. A gold heart awarded to each of the victors.
BigB - cookie clock! Lighthearted and fun, shows bigb’s brand a bit, not really intense or complex, showing how bigb tends to be pretty upfront and chill throughout the games
The Clockers:
Cleo - an old clock that matches the aesthetics of the Time Witch from wcsmp. The inner mechanisms are visible to represent how she usually plays with all her cards on the table, and is very upfront with her allegiances and her reasonings etc. elegant and a bit imposing.
Bdubs - a busted-up clock that doesn’t work anymore. Or, well, the inner mechanisms work. It ticks. Nobody can see how much time is left though. Chipped and cracked from the last three games. Blood from first boogey kill.
Scar - an hourglass with a dark oak border. Can’t have a scar clock and not put desert duo in it. Anyways, not only does the sand represent Scar’s permanent ties to the desert, it also is a very clear visual, meaning Scar doesn’t have to worry about accidentally jumbling numbers when reading his time (dyslexia is a bitch)
The Bad Boys:
Joel - Two ruby eyes representing the red that is always in Joel, no matter his colour, as well as acting as a small nod to his wolves in 3rd life. The hands are dagger-shaped, but round at the ends (he is scary but also a wet cat. If you are loyal to him he will not so much as scratch you). Scorched from Bad Boy Actions in ep 1
Jimmy - canary wings going round and round, cyclically. A cage that should open; it has hinges. Jimmy cannot open it yet. (If someone else dies first, he might be able to) also scorched from Bad Boy Actions
Grian - they will not let him forget he is not meant to be there. He has to concentrate to keep his clock at the right time- its hands will spin wildly (sometimes even going backwards, giving him more time) if he doesn’t keep an eye on it. Three hearts to remind him that he created the games. A gold heart awarded to each of the victors. Not shown, but two winged-shapes on hinges close over the clock face to shield it from other’s’ view.
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catierambles · 7 months
Text
Feral Instincts lore dump (strap in)
I kinda heavily implied it, but Imma just come out and say it
In Feral Instincts, if there is a Female Alpha, the packs are matriarchal. If there is one, she runs the show. If there isn't, it's just whoever is Alpha leads the pack. Sy's is special because, before Stephanie comes along, there's four Alphas who all, basically, shared responsibilities and one Beta, who just kinda hangs out.
To break down pack hierarchy
Female Alpha: Leads whatever pack she's a part of, uniting multiple packs into one large pack if the opportunity presents itself and everyone is in agreement.
Male Alpha: Will lead a single pack.
Beta: the second-in-command. the second fiddle, basically. If the Alpha isn't around and shit needs to get done, they'll step up and handle it. Mike never had to do this with Sy and the others because there were four of them, if one wasn't available, one of the others were. Now that he's with Stephanie in the pack she made with the others in the apartment building, he has to step up and start taking on responsibilities.
Omega: pack moms, basically, but can be male or female. Females are more common, but male Omegas do exist. Male Omegas deal with some shit just because 9 times out of 10, Omegas are female so being an Omega is seen as feminine. Toxic masculinity exists everywhere, kiddos. They're nurturers, caregivers, healers. Alphas, male or female, are driven to protect and care for them. Hence why they thought Steph was going to be an Omega before her first shift. They had this overwhelming urge to protect her, so they figured she was going to be an Omega.
Null: Not an Alpha, Omega, or Beta, just kinda there. They're not ferals because their minds didn't break from their first shift, they're still in control of their actions and aren't abnormally violent.
Ferals: They exist completely outside packs and pack hierarchies. Ferals are insane, clinically insane, cannot separate right from wrong, fantasy from reality. They're violent and unpredictable. Jordan Lewis, the feral that kicked this all off, is abnormal even among ferals because he can hide it. "One hell of a Bundy mask" as Sy put it, referring to Ted Bundy, who came across as this charming, attractive, kind, would never hurt a fly, person, when in actuality, he raped and murdered an unknown number of women. He confessed to around 30 and was convicted and sentenced to death for 3 of them, including one 12-year-old girl. Ferals are dangerous, but since Lewis can hide it as well as he can to have relationships and convince people to trust him, that makes him extra dangerous.
Then there's something I might introduce called "Blue wolves". Before the Alpha/Omega/Beta/Null terms were adopted as the norm, they were referred to as the phases of the moon. Alphas were Full (full moon) wolves, Betas were Half (half moon) wolves, Omegas were Crescent (crescent moon) wolves, and Nulls were New (new moon) wolves. Then there's Blue wolves, referring to the Blue moon. Female Alphas aren't common, but Blue wolves are rare. Only occurring once or twice out of every ten thousand wolves. So rare that most don't even believe they actually exist, or don't exist anymore. These wolves manifest as more than one nature. Alpha and Omega, Alpha and Beta, Beta and Omega, not just one or the other, in any possible combination. They're also called Hypostatic wolves, where, in biology terms, Hypostasis is when two genes which are not alleles of each other exist in the same organism, with one sometimes overriding the other. Happens a lot in regards to pigmentation in plants, apparently. The plant may have the genes for two pigments, but one will override the other and the plant will be the winning pigment.
...that got a lot more involved than I originally planned. If you made it this far, mazeltov have a cookie.
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hi! this account looks awesome; it's always good to see fallen hero fans heheh :D
i was wondering if you'd perhaps be willing to share some of your shadow milk headcanons? no pressure obviously, i just feel like it could be fun <3
thank you so much for asking and also giving nice compliment, and yes I like edgy evil cookies. :]]]
(already answered here, but here more like of thoughts and things i think he/they would do i guess?). And most of it is a warrior cat reference lol and more detailed one. But here it is ^-^
(under the cut)
Back when he/they liked a good side hero ancient (before getting corrupted). He/they is like a nerd studying magic, & herbs, and various locations to wander and discover around and research on them?.
Based on his/their old hero form, i assume he/they is like a chill guy before his/their demise
His/their moral alignment is chaotic evil. Due to him being mischievous and chaotic.
If he/they can possessed pure vanilla cookie in any way, pure vanilla cookie get shadow milk cookie heterochromia same eye color acting unhinged (like the imposter) from the broken code wc book while sabotage his body. they/he tried controlling and manipulating targets.
He/they go to a moonstone in blueberry academy and receives their/his immortal 9 lives from cookies Spirit. (Yes this is a reference to the wc cat leader)
I assume their/his nine lives message of why they're getting, since every clan leader in the book get message about their received 9 lives. (Sorry if it's terrible but that I could think of)
it is about First is knowledge
second id responsibility
third is kind
fourth is gentle
and 5rd is diligence
6rd is loving
7rd is calming
8rd is leadership
9rd last is bravery.
I don't know what role job, he is/they are but I assumed he was a healer mender or either mediator.
Or maybe a herbalist and researcher?
I think he is still alive while stuck on the sacred silver tree.
He/they can shapeshift into an ordinary cookie or even light of truth, and also cookie spirits.
Every caretaker, elder, and mothers, babysitter, older siblings, adult, etc used his/their story as a spooky urban legend or fairy tales to young kids who are mischievous to make them scared and learned their lessons.
He/they used to have a leader star forehead mark but it got shattered after he/they became corrupted and faded over the years.
Back when he/they was visiting the moonstone, he got star shape sparkly eyeshine about him/them receiving 9 lives from cookie spirits and they/he got a white diamond shape eyeshine whenever encounter spirit cookies. And also sparkles around him/them.
He/they either had his/their remaining lives went to 6 or 7, 1, 8 since pure vanilla cookie get to be a new leader role but he/they maybe still had their 9 lives?.
He/they lose contacts & communication from cookies spirit since they don't like/love him/them anymore. Due to shadow milk cookie turn evil.
He/they get is swarmed by blue butterflies whenever he/they sleep (back when shadow milk cookie was a hero).
He/they used to get gifts and notes by many cookies before he/they get corrupted.
He can mimic and voice impression of some people's voices and their shadows.
He wears a sage wreath and Myosotis/forget-me-nots flower and either yellow dandelion, gladiolus on both head and necklace depends.
He hates being stuck on the sacred silver tree.
He is happy that the moonstone gets destroyed accidentally indirectly by gingerbrave gang & dark enchantress cookie. So that cookie on whoever is becoming leader had to find another solution or resources to get their nine lives and struggle.
Pretty sure he hates starclan.
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call-me-tk · 1 year
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Beetlejuice the Musical - an Analysis/My Favorite Parts
Prologue: Invisible
“Grown-ups wanna fix things. When they can't it only fills them with shame, so they just look away." 
The Whole “Being Dead" Thing
TRUMPETS
“Rodgers, Hart, and Hammerstein”
"How you doin'? Oh, not good! *scats*"
“If you die while listening to this album, it’s still gonna keep playing”
“Blah blah Bible Jesus Magic”
DIES IRAE
Ready Set, Not Yet
THE FAST BITS
When Adam waits a beat after his fast bit before saying “ready set” because he’s not as confident as Barbara ahhhhhhhh
When Barbara sings the word "terror" like "terra" 
“Hiding away so you don’t have to face being a bad mom” whoever wrote these lyrics is so mean
“Oh… NO”
The Whole "Being Dead" Thing: Reprise
The pause after “Hi!”
“Jesus I can’t spell”
“Eh, worth a try”
“I’m the bio-exorcist, giving houses enemas”
Dead Mom
“Daddy’s moving forward, daddy didn’t lose a mom”
“A plague of mice, a lightning strike, or drop a nuclear bomb”
Fright of their Lives
“Drop your panties”
“No. What fills you with RAGE”
“Being mean to a pet” MOOD BARBARA
BJ’s soliloquy, he’s so over it, so DRAMATIC
“WHY GOD SLASH SATAN”
“Uch, these dopes are both hopeless”
Ready, Set (Reprise)
You can just SEE the shoulder bump with “I’m sure we can haunt our own halls”
“I gotta get right outside my comfort zone” 😬
No Reason
“What’s happening, GURL”
“Buy more crystals”
The windchime during “put a little alright in the world”
“Where good people die” “NO”
“Cuz you’re bored” FLUTE SOLO
“Meaninglessness and alone” “NONONONONOOOOOOoooooo~” the talent it takes to pull off that vocal riff is ridiculous
“Is this still about me?”
The harmonies in the last note
Invisible (Reprise)/On the Roof
“Somebody’s on the roof” always has me cackling
“I, Lydia Deetz” *BIG SIGH* “will be gone”
“I’M GONNA HAVE A NEW BEST FRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEND”
Say My Name
The musical style?!?!?!?
This is my favorite song in the entire show. And it was not an easy choice.
“What?” “Nothing”
Nice Moana reference
“Beetlejuice?” she says, like “what a dumb fuckin name”
LYDIA’S WHOLE SECTION LET’S GOOOOOO
Including the music change
BJ being like WHAT and SO frustrated every time she psychs him out
In the production I saw Lydia said “I just metcha” and I like that better
“I may be suicidal but Beetlejuice it’s not as if I’ve lost my mind” OOF
“That was possession” lol he’s so proud of himself
Love love love the rhyme: “Pretty much, any ghost’ll do, sure” “Then Beetlejuice, what do I need you for?” and the subsequent WOAH WOAH WOAH
The instrumental hit right after she sings “Yeah I got game” is my favorite 
This whole song just slaps idk what else to tell you
Day-O
“I’d have to… check my pay stubs”
“Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy” as he pops up out of the table he had to hide in the whole scene
Dad finally saying Lydia’s name as he’s swept away
“It’s our house now, kid”
Girl Scout
“Ooh~!”
The piano during “my heart is defective” A+ score writing
“Still”
*dramatic music* JAMBOREES
“Whee!”
*nervous laughter after meeting Lydia*
“By selling cookies *BIG BREATH* four dollars a box”
Also. FOUR DOLLARS A BOX?!??!?!?! Jealous.
“Pedophiles” 😇
That Beautiful Sound
“He is so weird”
Love the smooth jazzy style
“Time for a few OH MY GOD”
“How many… people… live here?”
Lydia’s laugh after “nice moves Lydia” is so pure
“Pfah, holy moly, lotta people come to this house”
“Yes, I hear that sooooooooooound” he’s so happy
“No more condescending adults hanging around”
“Daddy’s leaving me the hell alone”
Barbara 2.0
“It’s the stuff of our lives, and all of it’s shit.”
“Okay, that wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be.”
“Buhreak it”
“The new Adam is wiserrrrrrr”
Harmonieeeeees
What I Know Now
“I went to parties a lot…” *sniff* “You know?”
“Niche was right, you know? To live is to suffer, bro”
“Life is short but death is super long”
I really like this song because if you ruminate on it long enough it’s a good song to talk you into living life to its fullest even if things suck.
Home
I love that this is a reprise but also the whole theme of Lydia’s character - that her mom is home. But then she finds out that she can have a home with a (very dysfunctional) family and not forget her mom either.
Her little laugh when she says Delia’s name
Creepy Old Guy
“I’m a creepy old guy!!” 
“Girls may seem disgusted, but we’re actually just shy”
Shoobedowop
In the show I saw, Lydia goes: “Even on the inside, he- he’s disgusting” which I liked better than the recording
“A dance break on an album? Amazing.”
“L’chaim” is pronounced correctly, thank you Alex
“God be glorified” in a fucked up key
The whole company going “I can’t believe some cultures think this kind of thing’s alright” in unison
Jump in the Line/Dead Mom - Reprise
A perfect song to end a perfect show.
“I adore huh”
“Mama if you’re listening, doesn’t this just blow your mind?”
Shake shake shake senora in the background UGH MY HEART
DAYLIGHT COME AND ME WAN GO HOME
She’s home (I’m not crying you’re crying)
Overall thoughts:
Alex doing the Beetlejuice voice throughout THE WHOLE SHOW
The rhyming throughout the whole musical is just. A+
Lydia’s songsssssss
Honestly all the vocal parts are real hard
And so is the book for the pit
There’s like 8 different genres of music throughout the show and it just WORKS
I had no idea this show existed until the start of this year and now it’s in my top 3 favorite musicals. 10/10 amazing incredible perfect
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kawaiidoodles95-blog · 4 months
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The Stranger Stampy Circus: Chapter 3
The third chapter of a long series I am making!
NOTICE: This is 11+! Throughout this story, there will be light mentions of blood, death, war, darker humor, and violence. While nothing here is explicit, if this bothers you in any way, keep on moving. Trust me. I won't be mad.
AN: I am making this not only on here but on google docs. This is a crossover between Stranger Things, Stampy's Lovely World, The Amazing Digital Circus, and Wonka. Each chapter will have a name of one of the characters (or main POV's I refer to them as,) and whoever's name is on the chapter title is the person narrating the chapter.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy TSSC!
Chapter 3:Pomni
Today was the last day in the office before Christmas break. We were celebrating with hot cocoa, cookies, and a gift exchange. My coworkers are Jasper, Rianna, “Zoob,” Gaipha, Kayon, and Cain, who is also my boyfriend. “I GO FIRST!” Jasper called out. “No, Jasper, our boss Cain decides who goes first,” Rianna sighed. “Oh c’mon Raggedy Ann, he’s too busy with Pomni sleeping on his shoulder,” Jasper grinned. At that moment, I woke up. 
“Huh? What? I was sleeping?” I asked. “Like a rock,” Zoob added. Everyone giggled a bit. “Ah, my dear, why don’t you open your present first?” Cain smiled. He went to the tree, and picked up a present, handing it to me. I quickly scrambled to open it, and what was…
“A red button?”
Jasper raised his hand. “Erm… I was your secret santa, but I didn’t give you that. “Are you sure?” Gaipha asked. “That sounds like something you’d buy.” I was examining the red button with awe. It was a long thin tube, the size of a pointer finger. The button had lightning and clouds in it, and it was strangely menacing.
“Jasper, if you didn’t get me this, then HOW did it end up here?” I asked. “Not sure, Pomni. I think you should press the button. What’s the worst that could happen?” Jasper grinned. “I mean, there are a lot of terrible things that could happen,” Kayon commented, “A nuclear explosion, setting off asteroids, abstrac- you know what, I am not going to say it.” I nodded my head. Cain looked at me, then the button, then back at my eyes. “Well, it’s your choice.”
“You can press the button if you want. Or you can leave it. It’s your secret santa.” I held my breath. “I’m gonna do it,” I said, and I pressed the button.
And that was the last I felt or saw before I woke up.
-+*~*+-
“Pomni, POMNI!” Cain called, shaking my elbow. “What!? Where are we?” I asked as I jolted upwards, looking in all directions. Next to me were Rianna and Jasper, who seemed to got transported too.
But none of my other co-workers were there.
“Where are the others..?” Rianna mumbled as she rubbed her head. “Not sure,” I responded. She pulled her trusty butcher knife out of her pocket. “Whoa, dollface! Slow down! We don’t want to scare whoever lives in the area,” Jasper said sarcastically. “Jasper, nobody lives here. This is a barren, blue, dead, wasteland of a place,” I frowned. “Truth be told, I am not sure this is safe to breathe in,” Cain added, “It’s filled with giant chunks of ash, we could suffocate if we breathe this stuff in.” Jasper rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the confidence, I definitely feel confidence-d.”
After looking around for a little while, we stumbled upon a massive chapel. “Good heavens, that’s gorgeous,” Rianna breathed.
“It is, isn’t it?”
My friends and I screamed and jumped together. A weird vine man stared at us with a sleepy orange cat on his shoulders. The man had menacing black, circular eyes. The orange cat had his eyes half-open, as he was trying to stay awake. He had green eyes, purplish gray boots, and a diamond sword. “Nice to meet you,” The man smiled, holding out his vine-covered claw, “I am Vecna.”
“So you are here to help us?” I asked politely. “Yep! You aren’t my first visitors. I will show you around.”
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Thoughts on "The Convert"
Spoilers below the cut
Well, that was...different. I'll admit, it was probably the first time I was actually a bit disappointed by an episode of The Mandalorian. It wasn't that Dr. Pershing's story was badly written (though it could have been pared down), but I just didn't care to spend so much time setting up the next plot element when we were right in the middle of resolving the first one. I would have been okay with him getting his own bottle episode, rather than sandwiching it in between Din and Bo's moments. It was very jarring as a viewer, but I suppose that was the intent of the writers in the first place. Din and Cara had both commented that they didn't have much faith in the New Republic and now we see why. There is still a massive disconnect between the citizens of the core worlds and the Outer Rim, and it doesn't really matter who's in power, there always will be.
Concerning Pershing's plotline - I would be interested to know what he was working on specifically with Grogu and how it ties into Palatine's comeback. Between this episode and The Bad Batch, there is a LOT of focus on the Empire's cloning experiments, but I feel like we just keep scratching the surface without ever getting any real answers. But I'll be patient. This chapter seemed to be focusing on the fact that the Rebels defeated the Empire and established the New Republic, and it took all of 5-10 years for it become nearly as corrupt as the Empire. Okay, that's an exaggeration. The people on Coruscant looked happy and free (which is different from the mood in the capital planet in Andor). But there's a lot to be desired with this new government. No wonder Leia didn't last long as a Senator again, she'd have no patience for the BS. I liked how they casually mentioned in this episode how they had so many resources tied up in mothballing their fleet. And now you know how The First Order rose up less than 30 years later (if you didn't read the books).
I believe the "convert" is actually Pershing, not Bo-Katan. He genuinely wanted to help the people of the New Republic. It could also be referring to Elia Kane, but she wasn't really a convert, she was just making it look like she was so she could feed information back to Gideon or the Emperor, or whoever she is actually working for, because it clearly isn't the New Republic. I wonder if we'll ever see Pershing again after he got mind flayed (Count Rugen: NOT TO 50!). And yes, sweetie, it *was* a trap, baited with Star Wars Biscoff cookies. I can't believe that worked. Honestly, after he hijacked 40 minutes of this episode, they better be setting up a continuation of this story.
Which leads me to...the 20 minutes of this episode featuring people I actually care about.
First question: *who* sent those TIE interceptors? Is Moff Gideon pulling strings from prison? Or is this someone else? Bo said that was a lot of ships for an Imperial warlord and I'm inclined to agree. Gideon didn't seem to have anywhere near that kind of firepower. My guess is this is Thrawn. Why would Thrawn bomb Bo's castle on Kalevala, you ask? I assume that Sabine and Ashoka are putting pressure on him, and he's trying to draw them out by targeting someone with strong ties to both of them. Ahsoka has been all over the galaxy hunting for Thrawn, but Bo knew exactly where to send Din to go find her. Which means they are still in contact. Sabine gave her the Darksaber and endorsed her as Mand'alor, pledging allegiance to her. Assuming she's still with Ahsoka looking for Ezra, she also has maintained ties. Thrawn won't like being hunted, he'll want to meet them on his terms when he's ready. If those were his ships, I'd say he's ready.
I recently re-watched the Rebels episodes with Bo-Katan just to refresh myself on the tone and dialogue of those scenes. In summary, After Sabine found the Darksaber in Maul's lair and trainied herself to use it, she entrusted it to her mother to help mend their broken family, who in turn gave it to Gar Saxon as a bribe to keep her family safe. Gar claimed the Darksaber as his own, and interestingly enough, had no issues wielding it immediately. But Ezra gave Sabine his lightsaber and she defeated Saxon, earning the Darksaber by creed, which her mother and others from Clan Wren witnessed. In 4.1 and 4.2, we see Sabine wielding the saber to save her father from the Empire, and Bo-Katan gives aide at Ursa Wren's request. Sabine immediately offers the Darksaber to Bo-Katan, but she refuses, saying she had her chance to lead and failed, referring to immediately after the Siege of Mandalore when the Republic made her regent. When the Empire. took over, she refused to bend the knee and was betrayed by the Saxon clan. "I am not my sister," she told Sabine, the pain of that loss brought the surface by the weapon that murdered her. Obviously, Bo's feelings for her sister had changed drastically. Later, when Sabine is torturing Tiber Saxon, Bo stops her and says "this is not our way". After that battle, Sabine once more asks Bo-Katan to take the Darksaber, and though she is reluctant, she accepts it with the support of clans Kryze, Rook, Eldar, Vizsla, and Wren and the Protectors. Contrary to the Armorer's very skewed narrative, Bo did not take the Darksaber because she believed it was her family's right to rule. She took it, because the most powerful clans on Mandalore were begging her to lead them against the Empire. They had already gathered to follow her before she even accepted the Darksaber. It was a symbol, nothing more. It was her actions and her steadfast devotion to her people that earned their loyalty, not the heirloom of House Vizsla.
History recap concluded, my next question is this: Did the Children of the Watch refuse to join Bo-Katan and the other clans in their fight against Empire because she didn't win the Darksaber in ritual combat with Sabine...or simply because they had another reason not to like her? The Darksaber was passed down through the Vizsla family line for years. Pre Vizsla didn't kill Tor Vizsla for it. It doesn't have to be won to change owners. That particular tradition only applied if the current Mand'alor was wielding it. When we see Bo and Din approaching the covert, Paz comes out to meet them. He's immediately surly toward Din (big surprise) and he doesn't believe him when he says he bathed in the waters. When Bo-Katan says she witnessed it, he replies with "Who are you, Nite Owl?" Are we really to believe he knows who the Nite Owls are but he can't recognize their leader? He knew damn well who she was. If Paz is closely related to Pre (and I believe he is, given the writer's choice to have Favreau voice him), might he be harboring lingering feelings of jealousy or resentment of Pre's former right hand woman? The Armorer certainly knew her on sight. We know she had no love for Bo when last she spoke to Din. And yet, she welcomed her with open arms.
Hence, question three: What does The Way actually mean to the Covert? Heretofore, I had assumed that the Mandalorians from Din's tribe were deeply religious and held a deep-seated faith in their doctrines. But even when Bo flat out tells them she does not follow The Way (not to be confused with the Mandalorian creed, which Bo-Katan has sworn herself to), The Armorer only cares about two things: which are actually one thing...the helmet.
Did you baptize yourself in the Living Waters to redeem yourself for not wearing the helmet? Yes? Okay. Have you removed your helmet since? No? Okay, you're in.
That's it. It doesn't matter if Bo-Katan actually follows The Way or has any faith in whatever else it teaches...the one (1) factor that determines if you are in or out is whether you cover your face at all times. Does anyone else find that incredibly odd? The Armorer never even asked Din why or for whom he removed his helmet when he admitted that he had done so. The circumstances and the who are apparently irrelevant. If you follow The Way, you can't even remove your helmet before your own clanmate, your own family. Ever.
I really hope that in the next episode, Bo-Katan starts asking these important questions. When it was known that Din removed his helmet, he was ostracized and shunned. No one touched him. No one acknowledged him. The Armorer didn't even thank him for saving them all from that giant croc - she just told him he wasn't welcome. But as soon as he was ritually cleansed of that most dire of infractions, everyone reaffirming him and welcoming him with physical touch and kind gestures. The contrasting behavior gave me whiplash. But seeing them touch Din and Bo's shoulders and being so welcoming is so psychologically powerful, it almost had me second guessing my reservations about the Covert. But then I had to remind myself, wait...real family doesn't shun their own loved ones for giving into the very basic human need to see and be seen by someone you love. The mandate to always keep their face covered is pure psychological abuse. It reminded me of that recent episode of The Bad Batch, "The Retrieval", when the corrupt mine owner had all those kids convinced he was being good to them, when really he was manipulating them with food and praise.
Question four: Did Bo-Katan just join a cult? This one we can answer, and it's most definitely not. It may not matter to the Armorer what Bo believes, but it matters to us. She is not a follower of the way, but so long as keeping her helmet on provides her with food, shelter, and some much needed companionship, she will cooperate...at least until it gets to be too much for her. I suspect she'll find ways around the rules before too long. But what of the Mythosaur? Does she now believe the legend? Right now, Bo-Katan isn't even sure she actually saw the Mythosaur. Katee's interview confirmed as much, addressing the concerns of fans that she was hiding it for nefarious purposes. Honestly, I thought it was obvious that she was uncertain - that's why she asked Din twice. She is second-guessing what she saw, and who wouldn't? I mentioned this in another post, but imagine if you were snorkeling at night and dove down in murky waters and thought you saw a plesiosaur...a creature thought to be extinct for millennia. Would you be telling everyone right away or would you second guess yourself? She was in a very dark place mentally, she had just visited her ruined home planet for the first time in years, she was remembering her dead father, and she had just read the plaque talking about how legend told that the mines were once the lair of the Mythosaur...she probably figured that all these things together might have triggered a hallucination. She doesn't know what to believe. And this sets her up for some amazing character development over the rest of the season.
There was a lot to unpack in this episode, and I am so very excited for whatever comes next.
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mercurygray · 4 months
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I'm a Brownie troop leader, and Girl Scout cookies are going up a dollar a box this year. The first thing I thought when I read the email? "War profiteering." Johnny Martin and the gang would not be pleased.
Thanks for putting that phrase into my lexicon.
You may be surprised to hear this is not the first time I've heard this! The first time was in reference to the cost of going to college, if memory serves.
My mom was a cookie mom for many years - you are doing hard, hard work.
Unsure what this is about? Here's an exerpt.
The camp was so new that their barracks still smelled of fresh-cut pine, the wood and tarpaper just beginning to warp in the rising spring heat. Johnny Martin had a bad habit of stopping in doorframes and next to windows, tapping joists and joins, and making a face, before saying, “Disgusting.  It’s war profiteering, is what is.” It got so predictable, in fact, that even at the mention of the word ‘disgusting’ - or even the same expression on Martin’s face -  whoever was closest would add “War-profiteering!” in whatever voice they felt like before Johnny could get the words out. In fact, the phrase was now so common that it was becoming an ongoing joke to dub anything with which Easy did not agree as the now-hated phrase.
Revocation of passes? War profiteering. 
Burned toast for breakfast? War profiteering. 
Another one of Sobel’s trigger-happy command failures in a field exercise? Once more, with feeling: War profiteering.
-The Darkening Sky, Chapter 10.
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GODZILLA MOVIE MARATHON: Godzilla vs Megalon (1973)
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Oh hey, remember when I was doing this? I am at the whim of my hyperfixations and, luckily, I'm in a Goji mood again. So it's time to pick up right where we left off a year ago and keep this marathon going.
We're deep in the champion series, where Godzilla movies were made every year for Toho's annual movie festivals, which meant cookie cutter scripts and shoe string budgets.
The script is pretty standard by this point, except with the aliens replaced by hilariously incompetent Atlantians. It gets the job done ok, it keeps itself relevant and is relatively entertaining, even if you're still spending most of the runtime waiting for a rubber suit monster to show up.
Speaking of monsters, the plot mainly revolves around a little robot by the name of Jet Jaguar. He spends most of the movie getting yanked around by whoever is in control of him till he inexplicably against consciousness and joins the battle for good. He's an obvious Ultraman rip-off, but he's also a cult favorite for his goofy design and his antics. He gets a lot of love from fans, Evangelion even references him in the Jet Alone episode, and it's easy to see why. He's not the strongest, but he's got spunk, character, and a catchy theme tune. You can't help but love him.
The same goes for the other debut creature, the titular Megalon. The Kaiju in this movie have so much personality, Megalon especially is super expressive. I love his child-like personality, where he gloats and taunts when he's winning but throws a tantrum when he isn't. He cackles and claps and slaps his butt, and despite having no facial expressions, he might as well be talking with how well the suit actor portrays his thoughts. My favorite is his obvious "what the hell" pose when Jet Jaguar and Godzilla escape his fire trap. He's also ridiculously pathetic, dumb as bricks, he ultimately gets knocked down by swallowing one of his own bombs. I love how he just lays there while Goji and JJ just stare at him with contempt. Even his final departure is hilarious with him face planting into a hole as it collapses onto him.
Gigan also makes his return, as cackling and sadistic as ever, and he matches Megalon's energy perfectly. They really do make a perfect duo, real team rocket energy of bumbling bafoons thinking they're badder than they actually are. Gigan's justification for being here is the best, the Atlantians straight up just call the cockroach aliens from the last movie and ask to borrow their monster. Sure, why not?
And of course, Godzilla is here too. He's a full on children's hero, accentuated by the goofy circus music that plays as he walks up to the battle. He's got some cool moments, like singlehandedly stomping both Megalon and Gigan when he first arrives and of course the iconic tail-slide kick.
Overall, many people lump this movie in with vs Gigan as the bottom of the barrel when it comes to the franchise, which I think is unfair. They're both similar movies in that they both live and die by the final battle. While vs Gigan had a really slow, boring fight that really didn't justify having to sit through the rest of the movie, vs Megalon has one of the most fun final battles in the series. If you can sit through the rather tediousn, but not all bad first hour of human plot, you get 20 minutes straight of some of the most expressive and enjoyable Kaiju action of the Showa era.
Interestingly, for some reason a US executive decided this was going to be the Godzilla movie to grab that American demographic, and it was marketed and distributed far more than nearly any film before it. While not an immediate success, it did result in this easily becoming the most common Godzilla outing in video rental stores and late night TV reruns. It shaped Godzilla's image in America more than any other film, for decades the name was synonymous with cheap costumes, goofy effects, and bad dubs. Even to this day, the Monsterverse's take on a heroic Godzilla fighting evil monsters has its roots going back here. Some people may hold resentment towards it for that, but for me personally, I really enjoyed it. It's not the best the Showa era has to offer, but it's certainly up there, so 7/10 seems fair to me.
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declinlalune · 8 months
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Onward and Upward || Andy & Arden
TIMING: early june. LOCATION: downtown / harborside. PARTIES: @stainedglasstruth & @declinlalune SUMMARY: double a run into one another and decide to go on a picnic! CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a
With pride celebrations underway, the bakery had been a little more busy than usual. The street just outside the shop was busy with constant foot traffic, and while Andy typically liked the way being in a rush felt, the day had been tiresome. She had the day off, but she still went in to support, grabbing a few different loaves of bread and a box of bear claws. Distracted as she was leaving thanks to the slew of people, she barely registered running right into Arden. Her shoulder connected with the other woman’s and the box of baked goods nearly flew from her hands. 
“Oh, shit.” She steadied the other woman, holding the pink box close to her chest. “You okay?” She looked down at the woman’s feet to make sure she hadn’t twisted an ankle or anything. Andy looked up to meet her gaze and she smiled. “Hey, it’s been awhile.” It’d only been a few weeks, and though she hadn’t known Arden then, there was something about watching somebody be so vulnerable on a small stage. She still remembered the way that Arden’s poem had made her feel. A little empty, maybe, and hopeful, too. “How’ve you been?”
It had been an interesting couple of weeks for Arden. First, Nicole had come out to her about being a balam, then she’d slept with a nix– in both definitions of the word. She had also been catching up on work after trying some migraine medications that ended up just wrecking her sleep and making her nauseous. But she had finally found one that worked after going to the specialist Dr. Kavanagh had referred her to. And it was Pride month, too, which gave her the perfect excuse to finally stop by Bread Cemetery. She could get some pride themed treats for herself and her roommates, maybe get some more pins, and perhaps even see a certain red head?
She’d stopped by the grocery store first, grabbing a few things they needed and some snacks because they always needed snacks, before heading over to the bakery. As she got closer, Arden could see the shop was pretty busy. It seemed that the gays of Wicked’s Rest were excited for some gay little treats, which she loved to see. It did mean that she’d be waiting in line and wouldn’t get an opportunity to talk to Andy. Or Lil or Jonas. Whoever was working that day. 
A twinge of disappointment ran through her, but, you know, it was probably for the best she shouldn’t–
Someone bumped into her shoulder, nearly sending the tote bag of groceries to the ground, though she thankfully caught it in the crook of her elbow. She blinked as Andy herself steadied her. “Uh, yeah, I’m good,” she replied, a little dazed at the fact that she had literally just run into the woman she’d been thinking about. Granted, it was in front of the place she worked, but still.
“You?” Pulling the bag up over her shoulder, Arden looked over the other, a small smile tugging at her lips as she remembered how adorably flustered Andy had gotten that night. Goddammit. “It has, yeah. I’ve been wanting to stop by, but it’s been a busy couple of weeks,” she explained, tucking a few stray strands behind her ear. “Can’t complain, though.” She absolutely could, but that was irrelevant. “How have you been?”
“It happens.” Andy opened the box, frowning slightly to see that Jonas had snuck in a pride cookie. She didn’t like getting things for free, even if she did believe in petty theft. But that was only towards people who deserved it. She closed the box and looked up at Arden again. 
Her gaze flickered to the bag of groceries that Arden was holding, then she looked back up to meet her eyes. Arden stood only a few inches taller than her, and it wasn’t something she’d really noticed when they’d been sitting down listening to others speak their poetry, but it was apparent now. Andy shrugged. “Things outside of work have been slow for the most part. I’m trying to make a dresser, but that’s… well, it’s going.” With a laugh, Andy ran a hand through her hair with free hand. It was a little windy, and of course it would be on the day she didn’t wear a braid. 
“Good though, I mean…” Andy thought for a moment, “aside from the headaches, the crabs, my cousin’s snoring– good.” She flashed a smile at Arden, stepping to the side as somebody moved around them. “What about you? Were you going somewhere? Looks like you’re loaded up for a picnic or something.” Andy knew that Arden was roommates with Zack and she briefly wondered if there was something else there before remembering that Arden had explained that Zack was sort of seeing that one weirdo named Levi. 
Arden’s anxiety flared a bit as she saw Andy open the box and frown. “Ah, crap, did they get ruined? I’m sorry, I was a little distracted.” Never mind the fact that she had only been distracted because she was thinking about Andy. Irrelevant. 
She had a nice laugh, the kind that brought a smile to her face just from hearing it. “You’re making a dresser? That’s pretty impressive, even if it is slow-going,” she replied, noting the other had her hair down today. It was a good look, framed her faced nicely, and added a bit more contrast to her pale skin, making the freckles on her face that much more noticeable. Arden also spied the scar running across her cheek, something that had gone unnoticed under the dim lights of the Red Eye. She wondered if there was a story behind that. 
Cousin, right. She vaguely recalled Andy mentioning something about a cousin while they were chatting at the cafe. “Oh, yeah, how's the chapstick been treating you? Helping at all with the headaches?” She personally hadn’t noticed much of a difference after trying it, but her migraines were always miserable. Hopefully that wouldn’t be much of a problem anymore. 
“Man, it's busy today, huh?” she asked as they moved out of the way. “Not really, I was just picking up a few things from the store, and figured I’d stop by and check out the Pride stuff. Looks like I might have better luck if I came back another day, though,” she smiled. “But, I’m glad folks are excited about it. Wicked’s Rest has always been pretty progressive, but it’s nice to see that it’s just gotten more openly gay in my time away.” Arden paused for a moment, an idea wreaking havoc on her stomach. “Were you heading somewhere?”
“No, no. They didn’t. Jonas just snuck something extra in, didn’t expect him to.” It wasn’t like he wouldn’t have listened to her telling him not to, anyway. Andy held the box carefully, not wanting to accidentally crush the contents that were inside. 
Andy shook her head, mildly embarrassed. “I say it’s a dresser, but it’s more like a shelf with two holes and… another shelf underneath.” She had wanted to try and make it for Kaden so that he would have some place to put his things rather than in his suitcases, but she didn’t have enough wood, and she didn’t exactly feel right going around chopping down the trees in their area. She’d have to buy it pre-cut and sanded, she thought. “But I’ll let you think it’s cool if you really want to.” 
“Mmm, it’s been working a little. Not great, but it’s more like a mixture of spearmint and sulfur not, not just the sulfur.” Andy wrinkled her nose to try and smell her upper lip. She had just reapplied some. “But then I have to do this and it just looks a little stupid.” Andy wasn’t really sure why she had decided to show Arden what she did in order to better smell the chapstick. “Sorry– but um, how about you? How are yours? The headaches, I mean.” 
Andy turned to look back inside of the shop, then looked back at Arden with a smile. “A little, yeah. Has been like this on the street since the first.” She shifted the box around slightly so that she could smooth down the tape with her index finger. “I could always let you know? I’ve got a front row seat to the foot traffic, usually.” Andy’s smile grew a little wider as she looked down at the bags Arden was holding. “It’s cool, seeing the community come together, absolutely.” She and Alex hadn’t had much of one before moving to Wicked’s Rest. Andy refused to consider what they had been raised into as a community. “Mmm? I was thinking of going somewhere, just not sure. Didn’t want to go home.” She paused for a moment. “Any suggestions?” 
“Oh, that’s really sweet of him,” Arden smiled. She didn’t know Jonas personally, but from everything she had seen and heard about him both in school and now, he seemed to be a very kind individual, and Andy seemed fond of him. 
She tried to picture the half constructed dresser, but her mind betrayed her, supplying her instead with an image of Andy building it, looking very buff and concentrated, aaaand that was enough, brain, thanks. “Hey, I mean, that’s progress,” she shrugged. “The best I could do is, like, assembling IKEA furniture, so yes, even attempting to build a dresser from scratch is very impressive to me.” Living on her own for six years had taught her how to be somewhat handy, but making things was on a whole other level. 
Arden bit down on her lip, trying very hard not to laugh at the cute scrunched up face Andy made. Fuck, she was cute. “I, uh,” she started, trying to contain her grin, “you’re fine. And the migraines have been a struggle,” an understatement, “but I’ve finally found a medication that works, so I’ve been feeling so much better.” After over a month of dealing with it, she was finally feeling like herself again. 
“I mean, that works. If you wouldn’t mind, that is.” Avoiding the crowds and being able to talk to Andy? That sounded like a pretty good deal. And she was thinking of heading somewhere, too. “Oh, well, I was thinking about heading over to Harborside, and checking out Hanging Rock,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I haven’t been there since the weather’s gotten nicer, but the view is always nice.” She had been wanting to visit now that they were getting into the summer months. She hadn’t exactly been planning on going today, but…  “Would you care to join me?”
“It is, yeah. He’s sweet.” After meeting him, he’d quickly become one of Andy’s favorite people. Lil, too. Andy had gotten lucky on where she’d ended up landing a job. June had been kind enough to take her in as an assistant, even without any experience at an actual bakery. 
Andy laughed before shaking her head. “I’m sure you could make a birdhouse, if you really tried.” Andy was sure Arden could do anything she put her mind to, especially after the poem she’d read. Even now, Andy still felt like that’d taken more guts than most things she’d done. “But hey, appreciate the vote of confidence.” Andy hadn’t realized it, but her cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling so wide. She reached up, rubbing at the side of her jaw, suddenly embarrassed. 
Her expression morphed into something of concern as Arden explained that her migraines were still a problem. Andy’s brows knit together as she tried to recall any and all remedies that’d been suggested to her. “Medication is good. Some tea might help, too. There’s a place downtown that has a ton of different stuff, and Meera is really um.. smart, so she could probably help you figure it out.” Hopefully the meds would continue to help. “It’s good to hear that they’re doing their job, though.” 
As Arden explained her plans, Andy nodded along as if she’d known them all along. “That sounds nice.” She’d been there only a few times, but she knew the history of Hanging Rock and it made her stomach knot in anxiety. Though, if Arden were to– 
“Oh, I’d love to.” Maybe too quick on the draw, idiot. Andy cleared her throat. “Sure, I– I can drive?” Her jeep would be able to take the incline like a champ, and she wasn’t sure what kind of vehicle that Arden had. “Sorry, I’m just– I’m parked down that way.” Too quick, too quick. “Or you can, if you want?” 
Arden grinned. “I mean, I’m incredibly persistent and stubborn, so if I really wanted to, probably. No guarantees it’d actually be good, though.” She shot Andy a pair of finger guns because she was stupid and awkward and bisexual– sue her, okay? Seeing the other rubbing at her cheeks, though, made her realize just how much she’d been smiling, too. She was truly useless. 
“I’m not usually much of a tea person, but I’ll give it a try. Maybe peppermint tea would be something to try?” She made a mental note to stop by the shop sometime. “I do really appreciate all the suggestions. Hopefully the meds will keep helping out. Or the smell goes away because that would also be so nice.”
Biting back a chuckle at Andy’s speedy reply, Arden gave her a smile. “That’d be great, actually. I left mine back at home, figured I’d go for a walk now that I can handle the smell a bit better.” After a moment she added, “It’s still absolutely repulsive, to be clear, but I kept my time outdoors to a minimum while I was figuring this all out, so it’s just nice being outside more. But anyway–” She nodded her head at the other woman, “Lead the way.”
“They just need to make their nests in it, not much else.” Andy shrugged. “I’m sure it’d be suitable.” When Arden shot her finger guns, Andy’s jaw slackened slightly and she snorted. “What was that?” Shaking her head, she looked in the direction of Bread Cemetery one more time. 
“I’ve only recently got into tea, but I’m more of a coffee person.” Andy nodded at Arden’s question about peppermint tea. “If the meds don’t work, which I mean, I hope that they do, I definitely recommend checking out something like that.” There had to be something else that could work too, Andy thought, but she wasn’t sure if suggesting something magical to a human (or assumed human) would do any real good. 
“You’re starting to like the smell… I don’t get it, but more power to you.” She wasn’t sure if the joke fell flat or if it soared, so Andy supplied Arden with a stupid grin, motioning the other woman to follow her in the direction of her jeep. She got into the driver’s seat, putting the baked goods in the back seat and reached over to unlock the passenger side door for Arden. 
“I only have a cassette player, but you can try and get the aux cord to work, if you really want.” She handed the wire over to Arden before putting on her seatbelt. “It sounds like shit most of the time, so I usually have to put my phone on speaker.” Andy scrunched her nose before looking over at her company. “Ready?” 
Arden shrugged. Her perfectionist tendencies had a tendency of flaring up on those sorts of personal projects with no set deadline, so she could just picture driving herself crazy trying to make a birdhouse that worked and didn’t look like shit. Not that she really cared to, nor did she have much use for a birdhouse personally, living in an apartment and all. 
She flushed, though, at Andy’s laughter, wishing a hole would appear under her to save her from her embarrassment. At least it was a cute laugh. “I don’t know,” she laughed. Covering her face with her hands for a moment, she could feel the heat radiating off of her cheek. 
“Oh, I’m with you there, I’m a coffee menace.” If these meds didn’t work, she was going to lose her fucking mind, but sure, she would try the tea after that. “Yeah, well, fingers crossed, they do” she said, crossing her fingers as she spoke. “But, again, I appreciate all the suggestions.” It had not been fun dealing with all of this, but it was nice to know some people cared. Even a little.
She chuckled, more amused by Andy’s delivery and adorable grin than the actual joke. Trailing behind, she followed the redhead over to a parked Jeep. Arden waited outside as the other got in and unlocked the door for her. It was clearly an old, well-loved car, the fact made even more apparent when Andy mentioned the cassette player. She accepted the cord after buckling up. “Oh, I mean, I can just play stuff off my phone if that’s easier. What’s the vibe, what are we feeling?” She wasn’t sure if her go-to playlist would be to the other’s liking. Her taste had previously been described as ‘stoner dad music.’ “Ready when you are.”
“Um…” Andy paused for a moment before starting the jeep. Her music taste was all over the place. She could listen to virtually anything, aside from country music. Call it distaste, or maybe some kind of PTSD over Tennessee. “Whatever is fine.” That was better, she thought. To let Arden choose, especially because she was the one with the cord to begin with. She threw the jeep into drive and pulled away from the curb, heading towards Harborside. 
The drive would have been short and sweet, if not for the foot traffic. Andy didn’t mind, though. For the hours spent traveling across the states with Alex in tow, she actually didn’t mind driving. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to do so, but driving gave her time to clear her mind, and though Arden was in the passenger seat next to her, it didn’t bother her one bit. She pulled off onto one of the viewpoints, taking in the deep brown sign that advised them of a lookout point, towards Hanging Rock. 
“I’ve thought about running here a few times.” She liked the woods better, it was more familiar, despite the way she often mistook sap for blood among other things. Andy turned the jeep off and looked over at Arden with a smile. “You want to go down? Or up?” The topmost viewpoint from Hanging Rock would be spectacular, but Andy wasn’t sure how her company felt about heights. “I think the trail starts over there.” She motioned towards the dirt path that dipped down and then back up towards the rocky structure. 
Plugging the cord into her phone, she hesitated for a moment, feeling oddly anxious about sharing her music with the other. There was something about it that felt a little too vulnerable, in a way that made her skin prickle. But Andy had already seen Arden with her masks down, close to tears, in front of a crowd of people. If that hadn’t killed her, a few songs certainly wouldn’t. 
The aux cord was a bust, so she ended up just turning up her volume, filling the car with the familiar tunes of her playlist as they slowly made their way toward the cliffside park. This wasn't a common occurrence for her, being in the passenger seat, but she found it kind of relaxing. Even though she and Andy didn’t speak much on the drive there, the silence was a comfortable one. And if she spent a portion of the ride sneaking looks at the other? Well, that was totally, definitely not on purpose. Also, shut up. 
“Oh, the trail here’s great. Running up will kick your ass, and the view makes it worth it every time,” Arden grinned. “I used to run it all the time back in college.” Between living in Deersprings and her frequent visits to the headquarters in Oldtown, she had often found herself strolling through Harborside in those days. She turned the music off as Andy turned to her. “I wouldn’t mind going up, if that’s alright with you.” It was a nice day for it, the breeze of the water cool and not so strong that it would be bothersome. Directing her gaze to where the other had pointed, she nodded as she noticed the familiar path. “That’s it, yeah. You good to go?”
Andy wasn’t the kind of person to turn towards what was comfortable, not by a long shot. But she did like familiar things, and Hanging Rock was not one of them. Arden, maybe– she could be one of them. A friendly face in a sea of mishaps. Andy liked the idea of making friends who wouldn’t expect much from her. She could be normal, or as close as she could get to it. In this town, that was a blessing. Whether or not Arden was harboring some secret about herself wasn’t for Andy to speculate, and so she returned her company’s smile with her own. 
“That sounds like a lot. The running up it.” She craned her neck to get a good look at the trailhead from the window of her jeep. “But sure, we can go up.” She didn’t mind, really. The view probably would be worth it, after all. Andy got out of the jeep and closed the door with her hip, grabbing the items from the back seat before returning to Arden’s side at the trailhead. “Couldn’t forget the important stuff.” She lifted the picnic items, swaying slightly in case Arden tried to take the items from her in a show of help. “Upward and onward, that’s what they say, right?” 
In Arden’s company, things seemed normal– kind, almost. She liked that. Andy looked up towards the sky as they trekked, the bad thoughts and doubts simmering below her ability to be a yes man. Maybe she could make friends and hold onto those friendships. It’d been years and she’d been reluctant, so now was as good of time as any, right? 
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Omggggg, I am so thankful you answered my ask! I love your work and your blog is my safe haven for Brio! I love that you always take the time to answer in depth and reading your blog is just as fun as reading your fics!
Fangirling aside, I agree with everything you said about Mick! Not gonna lie, I read "miscast" and had to take a deep breath for a hot minute 🤣 But I finished reading your response and I see your reasoning. I totally agree!
I hate to keep saying it, but I think the writers really dropped the ball on that one. I do believe they intended him to be ruthless with no loyalties, but when a performance shines through differently from the script, they should adapt to it, especially since it didn't seem like they had much understanding of the character! I agree that Carlos made that character what it was and did the work for them. Mick is my baby and I attribute my love for him to Carlos' performance. All they had to do was follow his lead like many other authors in the fandom did with their fics! Or they should have given him direction to play it meaner if they wanted ruthless, idek at this point. He was such a cinnamon roll and it was so hard to think he would do that, especially since he seemed to end up really liking the girls.
As for Rio and Nick, my interpretation of their whole relationship comes just from the opening scene of 4.08 alone. Again, this is all headcanon because, once again, I don't think they put as much depth into Nick's character as they should have, therefore, I don't feel that we got deep enough into his and Rio's dynamic despite the backstory. There are some holes to fill in!
The scene starts with Rio drawing and Nick playing on his gameboy. He appears discouraged because he can't draw the eyes, so Nick does it for him and then encourages him, telling him "you'll get there, brother" and Rio playfully corrects him saying "cousin". Then when his abuela starts groaning by the oven, indicating something went wrong, little Rio gets up to go check on her and Nick stays playing with his game boy. He tries out Abuela's cookies even though they taste bad and Nick declines to taste it when offered. Then of course comes the pretty on-the-nose rotten egg metaphor where the egg that Rio drops sinks (indicating good egg) and Nick's floats (bad egg)
Rio getting up to go check on his abuela shows he cares for her. He heard her fussing and got up right away to check on her. Meanwhile, Nick stays seated. I think because Rio shows he cares, he is grandma's favourite. Later in the episode, we see them joking around about him buying her a new oven and just being a sweet grandmother/grandson duo. We never got any shot of Nick cutting up with grandma like that.
So Rio is a good-looking guy, charming, smart, very talented in boxing and he's grandma's favourite? Oh, brousin is clearly jealous and insecure and that causes tension between them growing up. I think he spent his whole life trying to prove to himself that he is better than Rio. When you're jealous of someone, there's an aspect of wanting to be the person you envy because really, you envy that person because that person is great. I think Nick hates himself and wishes he was Rio, which is why he does a lot to put him down. He rats him out and gets him arrested, which causes his trainer to drop him and he assumes the boss position in all of their operations and makes him an underling. It must feel validating to "conquer" him.
I also think this is why he switches between calling him cousin and brother. Whenever he refers to Rio as brother, it's to put them in the same boat. For example, during the dinner in 4.06, he doubles down on calling him brother to show Beth he's not different from Rio or rather, that Rio is not better than him. Whoever this suburban mama is who Rio clearly has a thing for, she has to know he's not all that. They are brothers connected by blood, the closest he can be associated with Rio. Another example is when he has to get Rio out of jail in 4.08. He feels so high and mighty telling Rio that he owes him and he says "That's why you got me, brother". It must feel incredibly validating to him to be needed by Rio at this point (same sentiments for the first scene in 4.08 when he draws the eyes for him). Calling him brother is pulling him down from this imaginary pedestal and puts him on Nick's level.
When he calls Rio cousin, it's to lift himself above Rio. He refers to Rio as cousin only twice. The first time is in the same episode when Beth comes to the community garden. In the midst of humblebragging about being a councilman who actually does something, Beth asks him "what does your brother think?" and he corrects her by saying "cousin". It's giving now that we're talking about my accomplishments and how great of a councilman I am, he's no longer my brother, we are not the same, I am better. The second time is in 4.09 at the boxing ring right before he "disciplines" Rio. He feels so on top in that moment because Rio is powerless.
For all these reasons, I think Nick hates Rio because he hates himself. But does Rio hate Nick?
I think you're right, no he does not. The first scene in 4.08 shows they were not always butting heads, but Nick's growing resentment and insecurity caused more strife between them. I believe Rio admired Nick. When Nick ratted Rio out, I don't think Rio fully understood why. He made it seem like growing all of their illegal money-making endeavours was for family and for Rio's benefit and Rio was the sacrifice for a better life. He thought Nick was smart for thinking long term. He probably expected that after being sacrificed, they would be chill again, but that's not the case because Nick hated him. I think not understanding why Nick hated him so much really affected him, which is why he lacks emotional intelligence (c'mon, his brother/cousin gets him arrested, he doesn't walk away, then Beth gets him arrested and he doesn't walk away either. He was taught those were just setbacks in a long term plan. No emotional intelligence!).
I think he only really understood once Beth got shot. Nick used her to torture him under the guise that they really needed her for business (which they did, it was a good idea to involve her, but let's be real, he wanted to toy with Rio). For Rio, there's clearly no reason for Nick to want Beth other than Rio wanting Beth ("always want what I got"). Beth and Rio both chose each other and Nick just could not stand that, could not understand why people always choose Rio. His rage causes him to hit Beth where it hurts. When Beth gets shot, I think Rio finally realizes that his brother figure is not some great man to be admired. There's no method to his madness, he's just mad. It's the moment he realizes that Nick's competitiveness is just a result of him being insecure and jealous. In their final call in prison, Rio does not address him as bro, or cousin, he just calls him "man". I think that shows he finally sees through Nick entirely and addressing him as "man" is him severing their familial ties. I don't think that means he hates him. A part of him will always remember those times when they were cool, but he will never consider him family again.
Oh gosh, this turned into some 500-page essay that might only make sense in my head 🤣 I apologize in advance for this mess!
What are your thoughts on Rio and Nick?
Anon, this is such a good dissection! All the supporting evidence and analysis! You did such a good job, idk what I could add. I agree: Nick always resented the easy way Rio gained affection from others, and Rio always tried to justify Nick’s cruelties despite them escalating over time. Their natures were set up in the flashback scene and you picked up on so much important detail. I love it. 💕
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@hallothere asked me about gondorian yule hcs on discord and because i'm So Very Normal about gondor, this got way out of hand and exceeded the character limit which i am not surprised by at all.
disclaimer; all of this is headcanon, none of it is actively supported by canon, though theoretically you should be able to install it without canon crashing and that's the important thing.
firstly; yule's kind of a misnomer bc it's more of a mettare/yestare thing (last & first day so... new years? almost) but it falls on the winter solstice which led me to wonder why mettare/yestare is in the winter for gondorians & not in the middle of spring like elves.
from there, i decided (made up the reason) that the main reason it's celebrated then is because mettare (last day) is a day of remembrence of when numenor fell whereas yestare (first day) is a celebration of the faithful reaching middle earth and since jirt didn't give us a specific date for either of those that i remember at least, i tend to hc that it happened in winter because it just. feels right
mettare is usually very somber, and i don't imagine there's much like. Active Celebrating going on other than like. reflecting on the last year, asking forgiveness for wrongs etc etc.
yestare however is full-on party time!
during the day there's festivals, dancing etc - in dol amroth i feel like there's a parade where a popular snack is frycake drizzled with honey
sae was awful about getting this in the hair of whoever drew the short straw of carrying her on their shoulders so she could actually See the parade.
when the parades are done, they make nine paper boats per family (in reference to the nine boats that elendil & co took to get to middle earth) and take to The Water* as the sun sets & the stars start to come out
*(usually, just a river since gondor has a ton of them, but in the coastal regions you can just take them down to the docks and straight up put them in the ocean, which is what sae's family does when they live in dol amroth)
they do that while singing and carrying lanterns marked with the sun & moon (double reference! isildur & anarion, and i could've sworn i remember reading something about numenoreans and the sun/moon but for the life of me i can't remember what it was.)
when they get home, they place a branch that's painted white over their hearth ('and one white tree')
then the head of the household reads the story of the downfall of numenor and arrival in middle earth, and they eat one of seven star cakes texture-wise they're more like cookies but i have no idea if that's even a word they have in middle-earth to symbolize the 'seven stars' that they baked the day before.
(sometimes this is also expanded to include the seven stones depending on how many people are visiting lmao.)
giftgiving usually follows that, but.... this about as far as i got building the headcanons since that's as much as i've needed for the *waves hands* stuff i've worked on so far.
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pbjelly90art · 2 months
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Spaceverse art!
Okay so I haven't decided exactly how I'm organizing these yet, but here's my first batch of the Spaceverse art posts! I've got a backlog of at least 205+ artworks to archive for this, so I had to get started somewhere. This is the original RP (and basis for my novel in progress) that I write with my friend Sakume, dating back some years now (maybe since 2019?) I don't have a title for the novel yet, so this is simply known as Spaceverse for now.
These characters originally came from some old forums we wrote on (circa 2006 at the start), and one day I came up with a new AU for them in a completely new space fantasy setting, with a new plot and new origins for the characters. I asked my friends Sakume and Cookie to participate, and this story was born. Cookie no longer actively writes in this RP with us, but some of their characters still show up in the art here and I'm very grateful for their contributions.
Sakume and I still write together and are adding new characters all the time! :) I grouped this batch of art to include sketches that mainly featured characters hailing from the planet of Illumina or the moon sanctuary of Nova Lux.
In order here we have: sketches of Cadenza, Altair/Vivace (her sister in the novel version, unrelated in the RP but may retcon, also Fabi/Alex's late mom and Anton's late wife), then Cadenza's daughter Luisa and a sketch of Cadenza in prison back on the Vault where it all started. Then we have Luisa and (spoiler!) young/child form Dawa, Cadenza with Adam, Adam himself, and then a bunch of sketches of their family together. Following that, we have Queen Venus (aka Elena), Cadenza's mom Sonya, Sonya with Leona, Xiulan, sketches of Cadenza and a masked Xiulan, Mingzhu, Joan (not an Illumin character but hey she ended up on my sketch page back then), older/adult form Dawa, young Dawa, Mingzhu, Cadenza's dad Galliard, Louis (another non-Illumin here to fit page space), Cadenza's sister Luminari, Cadenza herself, Lu with her husband Jaster, Simha (revamped character to replace Leona) and then Cascadia Riveria (Faer character, but happened to be on that sketchbook page.) Then lastly a few pencil sketches I missed, Xiulan, Mercy with Ramiro, Luminari and Cadenza, and some of my initial concept sketches of Spaceverse Cadenza and Luisa.
At the very end, we have some much older sketches that predate this RP, with Mother Carla, Ancient Ren of the Order, and Cadenza's late husband Paris (along with a sketch of Cadenza from a previous story where she was a human mage with shadow magic), previous versions of Vivace, Algretta, Luminari, Arietta, Cadenza, Sonya, Galliard, Reymundo, Izumi, Xiulan, Sarai (an angelo who hasn't appeared in the RP yet, but I might adapt), Shui Ya of Nova Lux, and Fletcher (a Faer character, but he happened to be on this page.) I still need to draw many of these characters some new portraits as their phantasm selves in this storyverse/setting, but I'm saving these older drawings for reference.
Some characters are going to show up that don't quite fit into these groupings because I tend to just draw whoever I feel like on my paper that fits before scanning them in. x3 Sometimes I edit them after to reorganize, but often times not.
Adam and Jaster belong to Sakume, and Leona and Joan belong to Cookie. The rest of the characters belong to me, but big credit to both of my friends for their help developing the world, organizations and characters, particularly in this case, Cookie brainstorming the Order of Lux Aeterna/Nova Lux with me, and Sakume brainstorming so many of the Vault characters and more.
Also small side note: I've been using the surname "Madrigal" since 2006 for Cadenza and her family waaay back on Zelda Universe forums, but I'm super happy it's way more popular a name now thanks to Encanto and I do love that movie. The movie was in no way a basis for these names, but I love to see more Latin culture and names in media, so I'm all for it. ^_^
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