#why would anyone think there was NO love in imogen's early life? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enchanted-prose · 4 years

Text

#12 A Bloody Ballad

and with this fic, I have officially crossed into the 60,000 word count territory. I've also decided that I will finish this ficlet series by July 14th and submit it to Jennifer Nielsen’s fan content competition.

Word count: 5,715

Characters: Jaron, Mott, Jolly (Original character who deserves lute rights), Lord Thomas Row (a babey and original character), Merry (Original character), Commander Regar (Original character), Roden, Tobias, Renlyn (Original character), Princess Amarinda, Imogen (this one’s a reAL party)

Notes: This was creepy even for me to write, so that’s your warning. Edited and ready to be read!

Enjoy!

The sneezing never stopped.

Always sneezing.

And it was all that cat’s fault.

Jaron rubbed his eyes. It wasn’t the cat’s fault, it was his. He should’ve thought about his reaction to the cat when Renlyn managed to sell it to him. Cat hair was everywhere.

But by the Saints, nothing could best the smile Imogen had when she held that kitten on her lap.

He didn’t mind silent suffering if it meant Imogen’s happiness.

Her secret smiles filled his head. The way her hand sought his whenever they were near each other kept his feet planted on solid ground. Jaron knew that Imogen’s mere presence gave him the focus to solve every puzzle at his fingertips.

However, it went deeper than that.

Imogen insisted on looking him over each time he got into trouble. She had no qualm about staying up until the early hours of the morning when memories of Avenia plagued him. Her love came in gentle forms; she brought him deftly spun bracelets, a spoonful of sweet pastry dough, ruffled his hair with flour covered fingers.

He could sneeze for a millennia for her.

With each passing day, his stance seemed more and more likely.

Did the Saints sneeze?

Energy burst through him without a warning. Jaron stood up, nearly knocking his chair to the floor. He snatched the letter he’d been reading and began to pace. King Kippenger was sending a representative to discuss the situation Avenia was in.

There was nothing Jaron wouldn’t do to assist an ally, save abdicating the throne and a few other atrocious acts of course. He was prepared to give aid to Avenia in any shape.

He was prepared to send his best military leaders to action if needed.

His mind instantly began thinking about what news Kippenger’s representative would be bringing. The path he walked was familiar. It gave him space to think outside of his normal routine. To the corner, to the door, to the shelf, back to the desk.

Thomas Row, that was the representative’s name. A farmer raised to nobility after demonstrating his loyalty not only to Avenia, but to Kippenger during the first months of his reign.

Carthya’s harvests over the past four years had been wondrous, and a new push for education thanks to Amarinda and Tobias. Feall was working with Roden, and Jaron was confident that Feall would make a capable temporary replacement should Roden be sent to Avenia.

The pieces were in place. Jaron could play this figurative chess game and win.

He was juggling what would happen if Avenia wouldn’t accept his help and what he would have to do to protect his own people.

Would it really be worth it to keep a Carthyan influence in Avenia if it only forced Avenians even further away from good relations?

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

To many outcomes, not enough stable variables.

Think, think, think.

What could he do if Avenian relations soured?

Bymar would come to help, Jaron was certain of it. Mendenwal would likely come as well, and maybe even Gelyn, though the latter would likely have ill intentions. He could always completely withdraw Carthyan aid as a last resort.

A very last resort.

Why, oh why couldn’t Thomas Row be there, knocking at the door?

Jaron rubbed his watering eyes, and returned to his desk. One letter down, countless others to go. He inched his chair backwards, inched his chair forwards, and wished he had a chair that spun in a circle.

Saints, it wasn't even noon and he was already bored.

He’d managed to read through ten letters when somebody finally came to check in on him.

“Mott!” Jaron stood up, this time successfully knocking over his chair. “Thank the Saints, I wanted to ask you if-”

“No, I will not let you use a shield as a sled and ride down the grand staircase,” Mott’s brows lowered into a solid line.

Jaron broke into a wicked grin, “Good idea, but that’s not what I was going to ask. You read Kippenger’s letter, no?”

“Haven’t had much to do but read since the attack.”

“Do you have any- oh.”

During the Avenian war, Mott had received a wound that would’ve killed him if not for Tobias’s skill as a doctor. The wound prevented Mott from fighting his way through a battle.

The wicked grin Jaron sported faded into a deep frown. He wanted to be a good king, a just man who sought out justice rather than revenge.

It was a well kept secret that Mott’s ghost wound flared up. A well kept secret that the fight with the Faola who attacked Feall was responsible for the ghost pains.

But Jaron knew, he knew about Mott’s pain.

And if it weren’t for Imogen and Tobias, he would’ve taught the Faola a lesson they’d never forget.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” muttered Jaron, tossing through the emotions pulsing through his veins.

Anger, grief. Anger, grief. Anger, grief, and frustration.

Did nobody care how hard he was trying? Was that why there was still crime plaguing the streets of Drylliad?

“Not exactly, but I do appreciate the sentiment,” Mott shifted on his feet. “I did read Kippenger’s letter, and I dispatched a series of spies to try to locate his representative.”

“Did you find anything out?”

“As a matter of fact, I did, although the information came from someone who’s not one of ours.”

Oh?

Jaron motioned for Mott to continue, “Is it reliable information?”

“From a friend’s perspective, yes. However, from a ruler’s perspective there’s a series of holes in the story,” explained Mott. “My informant, ah, has a history of lute playing, colorful clothing, and pursuing every vice he can.”

“Please don’t tell me-”

“Jolly is my informant.”

He didn’t mean to snicker. He didn’t mean for that snicker to turn into a fit of laughter. Jaron coughed into his fist, trying his best to mask his grinning, “Jolly is your informant? The man who sings about floral crowns and otherworldly romances?”

Mott was all too serious as he nodded. “Considering that he not only found Thomas Row in Avenia, he also managed to bring him here, I’d give him a bit more credit.”

“Lord Thomas Row is here!? When did he arrive!? Why wasn’t I informed!?”

“He requested to stay at an inn rather than in the castle, said he wanted to be with the army that accompanied him.”

“By the toes of every Saint, I have to meet with him,” Jaron bolted to the door, froze as his hand hovered above the handle, and turned back to face Mott. “Would you like to come with me?”

“Perhaps,” Mott said. “I have several things that require my attention, but I don’t suppose you’d be opposed to helping me with my duties.”

More chores?

More papers to read?

Jaron shrugged, “You can’t tell anyone, otherwise they’ll always come to me to help push papers around. I have duties of my own.”

“As do I.”

“To the Devils’ with duty then, I’m the king, my word is law.”

With a few catches, of course, but Jaron didn’t need to explain that. It would’ve diminished his perfect excuse for abandoning the papers on his desk.

All he needed was a quick stop at his chambers to change his clothing. He’d be able to blend in with the crowd well enough in a pair of shabby trousers. It was a slight miracle that he hadn’t been recognized yet.

He was feeling more comfortable once he’d dressed in a patched shirt and ragged shoes.

Although when he stood next to Mott, who was still dressed plainly according to the royal court’s ridiculous standards, he looked like a pickpocket.

Once a thief, always a thief.

The courtyard was bustling with life. Horses were being led to shadier pastures outside the castle. Sheets and sheets hung on lines as they dried in the sun. Roden was yelling at a group of soldiers.

Everything was as it should be. Jaron was grateful for the false security the routine brought.

He would be a fool not to acknowledge that there was something not quite right anymore.

Like a right shoe being ever so slightly bigger than the left. Like a spoon and fork sharing the same engraved design, only the spoon was missing a line.

Quiet yet obvious once found.

“Tell me about the army Thomas Row brought,” Jaron asked, stepping over a laundress’s large bar of soap.

“It’s a hired army,” Mott wiped his nose. The smell of heavy duty soap wasn’t the sweetest scent. “The army’s lead by a man called Commander Regar, I suspect his men are mostly Bymarian and Gelynian.”

“Ah, mercenary armies. They’re too unpredictable for my taste.”

“One could argue that you’re also too unpredictable for different peoples’ tastes.”

“I don’t give my loyalties to the highest bidder; mercenaries do.”

In fact, Jaron didn’t think the mercenary armies so favored by nobility were worth their cost. The mercenaries were little more than bandits who could play the game of life a little smarter.

It was far better to find men willing to fight for something they loved rather than men who fought for coin.

“Market day should be a success,” Mott noted, gesturing to the various stands that had popped up overnight.

Jaron shrugged, “I’m hoping for a large supply of peaches this time. The peaches at last market day were full of worms.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to wait two days to see the peaches yourself.”

“Think I should have Roden pray for my peaches and their health?”

“Don’t be sacrilegious.”

Ah, market day was a thief’s dream. Hundreds of vendors came with their goods to sell, and security could only protect so many. Jaron had taken advantage of market days as a child. He rarely returned to Mrs. Turbeldy’s Home for Disadvantaged Boys with his hands empty after market day. Sometimes, he got lucky. Sometimes he was able to steal enough food to feed himself for a few days.

Though the anxiety that constantly tugged at his lungs made him wonder.

Made him think.

Made him realize that maybe this market day would be unlike the others.

Perhaps he should get somebody to pray about it.

Thomas Row was staying at the Traveler’s Inn, which meant a short walk for Jaron and Mott. . . If Thomas was there. And as fate would have it, Thomas wasn’t. He was at the Dragon’s Keep, catching up with a certain brightly colored troubadour.

Jaron could hear the lute playing long before he saw the Dragon’s Keep. Jolly’s clear tenor voice sailed through the tavern’s open windows.

There was blood in the kitchen

And blood in the halls

Blood in the bathtub

Blood on the walls

There was no way that tune was Carthyan, Jaron would’ve remembered a ballad that violent.

“After you,” Jaron said, holding the door open for Mott.

“On the contrary, after you Jaron.”

“No, after you.”

It took several more ‘after you!’s before Mott finally conceded and walked into the Dragon’s Keep with Jaron trailing behind him.

Stepping into the Dragon’s Keep was like stepping into a warm cloud.Men and women crammed around almost every table. There was no set uniform among them, although several people wore thick, knee-length skirts with knotted patterns. Jolly was sitting on a table flanked by a man playing a large set of pipes and a woman playing a tin flute. Jolly’s tenor voice took on a thick Bymarian accent; the chords he played turned sour:

There was blood in the kitchen

There was blood in the halls

Blood in the bathtub

Blood on the walls

And blood on her Majesty, Lady Ingrithay

A heart in her right hand, dagger in the other

Ye can’t outrun yer mother

She is yer judgement day

Jaron shivered.

Ye can’t outrun yer mother

She is yer judgement day

“That’s him, Lord Row,” Mott said, gesturing to a man in humble clothes sitting a few tables away from Jolly and the other musicians.

Lord Thomas Row was a plain man, save for his head of wiry, black braids. His white shirt flared down his arms and cinched around his wrists.

Cinched around one of his wrists.

One of his wrists?

Lord Row had a right hand, but the left one ended in an elegant, covered hook.

“Sir Mott! It is good to see you!” Lord Row bellowed, and he lunged to embrace Mott. “It’s been too many years!”

“Yes it has, Tom, yes it has,” Mott clapped Row’s back.

Jaron tried to stop the squirming unease that came when watching a pair of old friends reunite.

Once Row had broken off his embrace, he took a long look at Jaron. “Is this-?”

“It is, no need for names, my friend, I came here to make your acquaintance before rushing into talks of politics,” Jaron said, extending his right hand. “Sometimes they get messy, I’d rather be friends than enemies. And forgive my dress, I find it’s easier to slip through crowds when not wearing a jeweled tunic.”

“There’s no need for forgiveness, I wholeheartedly agree, and I sincerely hope you don’t become my enemy, your Majesty.”

“Please, call me Jaron.”

“I accept your invitation of friendship,” Row bowed his head. “Jaron.”

“By the Saints can he change this ballad?” Mott grumbled as Jolly launched into a new verse.

Ye can run, ye can run

But lady, o’lady

Yer time’s almost done

Sing like a bird, say what you say

O’lady yer the one

To stop dear Ingrithay

Blood in the-

“No! Don’t touch my lute you insufferable imp!” Shouted Jolly as he launched off the table.

Jaron let out a sigh of relief, “Find whoever stole the lute and bring them to me, I’ll give them a knighthood.”

“The ballad isn’t that bad,” muttered a man from Row’s table.

“On the contrary, I think it is.”

“Ignore old Regar, he’s sympathetic for Bymarian ballads,” Row waved his hook at the man who’d spoken.

Regar held up his hand in greeting, but chose to drink the contents of his tankard than say hello.

“It’s not exactly a song for dancing,” Mott pointed out. “It’s Bymarian, you say?”

Row nodded, “I’ve heard it multiple times on my journey here. Regar’s men are mostly from Idunn Craich, it’s been interesting hearing their tales, they’re much bloodier than tales from Bultain.”

“Only recent ones,” Regar said, having finally finished his drink. He dragged his hand across his bearded face and smiled, “Commander Regar, I am honored to be in your presence, Majesty.”

Jaron made a face, but nodded in return.

He hated it when people called him Majesty.

That’s what people called their prettiest mares, Saints be cursed.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Jaron said. “Sort of.”

“Thank you, I think.” Regar nodded his head. His eyes were elsewhere, and soon he was sitting again, nursing his tankard.

“See something you don’t like, Commander Regar?”

He didn’t answer.

“Regar isn’t the most spirited at this time, return in a few hours and he’ll be singing with our mutual friend Jolly,” Row said, setting his hook on Jaron’s shoulder. He steered both Jaron and Mott away from the table. “Jaron, may I ask how your day has gone?”

“Oddly average, if I must be honest,” Jaron said, still looking at Regar.

“Ah, I must say the same, as average as riding can be.”

Mott chuckled, “That’s good news, I’d hate to know there were troubles with your travels, Row.”

His head was racing. Put the pieces together, put the pieces together! Regar was several inches taller than Jaron, and from his standpoint, could probably see more than Jaron could. From Regar’s eye-level, he could see the other side of the tavern, which was much emptier.

Bar maids dashed to and fro trying to appease every customer they could.

One of them was serving drinks while keeping a lute free from Jolly’s hands. Green scarf in her bushy hair. Jolly’s ballad echoed through Jaron’s mind.

There was blood in the kitchen

There was blood in the halls

Blood in the bathtub

Blood on the walls

Something was staring at him, right in the face.

It plagued him as he sat at the bar, listening to the bloody Bymarian ballads, and trying to weasel his way into Mott’s conversation with Lord Row.

He rubbed his eyes, which had finally stopped burning now that he’d left his cat hair covered office.

Aside from Lord Row and discussing Avenian policies, there were other matters to take care of. Among that never ending list of problems to be solved was the Faola attack on Feall.

It took numerous questions from Feall, Roden, Amarinda, and himself to firmly conclude that the girl who’d been arrested wasn’t responsible. She was simply doing the wrong things, got involved with the wrong people, and got caught at the wrong time.

But Feall had suggested bargaining with her. Bargaining with Ayvar, a criminal.

It wasn’t the worst deal Jaron had to make.

He promised Ayvar her freedom and a pardon for banditry if she was able to help them catch the culprit. She swore on her own false grave in Gelyn that she would keep her word, and was prepared to act immediately if needed.

Ayvar would remain a prisoner but would be moved to a tower room. She would be given ample food, water, and blankets.

All she needed to do was be prepared for when she was needed.

It was a game, and Jaron didn’t mind playing games.

He only hoped that he’d win this time.

Too many times had he gambled and lost, resulting in disastrous consequences and a pile of innocent victims. This time, it would be different. He would catch a Faola, and in the process, drive away all the others.

There was blood in the kitchen

There was blood in the halls

Blood in the bathtub

Blood on the walls

Jaron rubbed his eyes. The words to Jolly’s song refused to leave.

It seemed that even thinking of Jolly caused him to appear. “Headache, sir?”

“No, no, I bought a cat from Renlyn Karise, turns out I don’t do well when cats are around,” Jaron confessed.

Jaron didn’t want to admit that he was thankful for Jolly’s company; he didn’t want to admit that Mott was talking to Lord Row much better than he was.

“Ah, Renlyn,” Jolly held a hand over his heart. “The envy of every man and their wives. A beauty and a wickedly intelligent woman.”

“Imogen mentioned that you knew her, how did the pair of you meet?”

Jolly’s blush matched the pink details on his blue jerkin, “Ah, well, I was one of the fools who chased after Ren for her golden curls. I thought I was clever by tricking her into a gambling game. . .”

“And?”

“And I lost everything. She gave it back, of course, but I learned my lesson. Karise is a force to be reckoned with, and a fierce friend. But she’s good at every kind of game.”

Especially the game of How Much Money can Jaron Waste on a Cat?

“And you know Merry, as well,” Jaron noted, gesturing to the girl in question as she dragged a box of dirty dishes to the back room. “How?”

“It’s not my story to tell,” Jolly scratched his mass of black hair. “I’m sure you could ask her about it one day, not sure how much luck you have.”

“I’ve heard plenty about her, believe me. Roden, ah, Roden gets easily excited when he’s on the bottle.”

“Yes, yes he does.”

“And how do you know Roden?”

“You know what,” Jolly made a face. “I’m not quite sure, we were speaking in a tavern and he’s always been a friend of mine. Wrote a ballad about him, and a ballad about Renlyn. I have a ballad I’m writing about-”

“Don’t say it’s about me and Imogen.”

“-you and Imogen.”

“By the toes of all the Saints,” Jaron pinched his nose. “At least make it a good one.”

“I can sing it right now!” Jolly bounced away from the bar, swinging his lute into action.

Jaron’s eyes went wide as Jolly began strumming each chord, tuning them all to perfection. He began plucking out the first few notes, which led to a series of slowly strummed chords. Jolly heaved in a breath, preparing to sing, when out of nowhere a pair of hands shot out and stole the lute.

“You’re in timeout!” Merry said, cradling the lute in her arms. “You sang Ingrithay too many times, you’ll lose your voice!”

“Merry, Merry, quite contrary, you tug my- that’s actually a wonderful rhyme,” Jolly made a face, nodding ever so slowly.

In silence, Jaron pressed his hands together and bowed his head, grateful for Merry’s interference. She winked at him in return.

She patted Jolly’s shoulder, “That’s right, my tortured artist, think about your songs, and drink something warm. Can I get anything for you gentlemen?”

“I’ve heard the lemon tarts here are very nice,” Jaron said, exchanging a sneaky grin with Mott.

That wasn’t the only thing they’d heard.

“And for you, Lord Row?” Merry cradled the lute in one arm, and set her free hand on her hip.

“I’m quite well, thank you,” Lord Row flashed a smile. “I’ll be certain to call for you should anything change.”

“I’ll do my best to answer that call, sir.”

There was blood in the kitchen

There was blood in the halls

Blood in the bathtub

Blood on the walls

No, no. Not the rhyme again.

He hated not having all the answers. He hated knowing that there was something lurking in his future.

----------------------------------------------------

“This stuff, really?” Tobias asked, gesturing to the bottle not far from Roden’s reach.

As much as he tried, Lord Thomas Row was more concerned with checking in on Commander Regar’s men, and opted to save their discussion for a few days later.

Meaning Jaron had nothing to do for an entire evening.

His first instinct was to snuggle up to Imogen, or do something silly like cover her eyes and guide her through the castle. However, his attempt to steal her away came too late: Amarinda had commandeered Imogen and Renlyn for an evening ride in the woods with Feall and Mott as chaperones.

His second instinct was to pester Roden into doing something fun, but when he entered Roden’s usually clean office, he knew he was gravely mistaken.

Pieces of fabric and at least one of Roden’s shirts were scattered about the floor. He and Tobias were arguing about something, but the argument came to a grating halt when Jaron walked in.

“Be quiet Tobias, you need loads of spirits to be a seamstress,” Jaron wrinkled his nose. “Let Roden embrace his dreams.”

“I’m not becoming a seamstress!” Roden crossed his arms, his frown rivaling the gargoyles on Drylliad’s biggest cathedral.

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Then why do you have a pair of shears in your hand and fabric on your lap?” Jaron sauntered over to Roden’s desk, sat in his chair, and kicked his heels up. “I can arrange for you to get more pretty things if you’d like.”

Roden perked up, “Really? I mean, no! That’s not what I want!”

“Oh he definitely wants pretty things,” Tobias pointed out. He’d picked up the bottle on Roden’s desk. “This is definitely stronger than what I’m used to trying.”

As Roden curled over his piece of fabric, Jaron looked to Tobias, and both exchanged a snicker.

If he couldn’t convince Roden to ride a shield like a sled down the grand staircase, Jaron would make fun of him till he reacted. That would be worth it.

Tobias looked at Roden, who was cursing his scissors, and made an outline of- of a bell?

Jaron squinted at him, shrugged, and shook his head. What could he do with a bell? What- oh! Tobias was making the outline of a skirt, not a bell. Ah! Jaron could work with skirt jokes.

“You know, I hear Bymarian women wear dresses with slits so they can move,” Jaron rubbed his nose. “I’m sure Amarinda can get you one.”

“No, no, that wouldn’t work,” Roden waved his hand, and didn’t bother looking back.

Looking for reassurance, Jaron looked at Tobias, who was sniffing the contents of Roden’s bottle of spirits. He made a face as the fumes escaped. No reassurance from him.

There had to be a way to upset Roden. “Are you more of a skirt person?”

He paused and straightened. “I suppose I am.”

Once again, Jaron looked to Tobias. This time, Tobias was prepared with a confused shrug.

“Are you- are you being serious?” Jaron leaned forwards. He’d heard of men wearing skirts into battle. By the Devils, even some of Regar’s men wore skirts. He just hadn’t expected Roden to suddenly take a stance on the trend.

“I don’t really mind what a girl wears,” Roden looked back to glare at Jaron. “Why are you asking me this?”

“I was talking about you wearing a dress, you oaf.”

Roden pointed his scissors at Jaron, “No. I’m not playing this game, I’m in a good mood.”

“Good mood? I’d like to change that.”

“Jaron, nothing you could do could change that. I have the evening off and-”

“Are you making dish rags for the kitchen staff?” asked Jaron, now resting his chin on his hands and his elbows on Roden’s desk. “No, Tobias, don’t drink that. I need somebody on my side in case Roden plays dirty.”

Unfortunately, Tobias was looking to do something foolish too. Jaron could hear him draining Roden’s bottle of spirits.

Dear Saints, he was causing a circus.

Good!

“I’m not going to fight y-,” Roden tried, but Jaron was eager to do something incredibly foolish.

“You’re making hair scarves for Merry, aren’t you?”

Aha! He’d hit a nerve!

“So?” Roden grumbled, curling back over his fabric. “I like seeing her ears. One of them has this-”

“Boring!” Jaron jumped to his feet, and walked over to a fine square of red fabric. “You want to know what would make these all prettier? Tobias, you’re going to pass out.”

“I think I deserve a quick nap,” Tobias argued, setting down the now half-empty bottle of spirits. “Jaron, don’t do something stupid, remember what we said about being kind.”

Oh yes, Jaron remembered that deep discussion. Something about being considerate for others and not pestering people until they reacted in a negative way. During the conversation, Tobias pointed out that perhaps Jaron wasn’t used to receiving any verbal or physical attention, which was likely the cause of Jaron’s desire to punch Roden as hard as he could during the most obscure times.

Unfortunately, Tobias’s statements were too close to home. During the next large banquet, Jaron made sure to punch Tobias as hard as he could rather than Roden.

He’d certainly gotten an earful from Imogen after that.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Roden growled, slowly rising to a stance to attack.

Jaron raised his foot above the red square of fabric, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m warning you. Don’t do-”

“What, this?”

His intention was to bring his boot down on the red square of fabric and leave a massive footprint, but he wasn’t sure if he accomplished his goal. Roden had launched himself right at Jaron, sending both of them careening across the floor.

“Hey, hey, hey! I’m a little guy! It’s my birth- hey!” Jaron cried out trying to wriggle out of Roden’s deathgrip.

“I told you not to touch the fabric!” Roden roared.

Jaron felt his feet touch the ground for a split second, and then he was hurled over Roden’s shoulder. Completely unfair. He refused to stand for it. Jaron kicked his legs like a fish, grabbed the back of Roden’s tunic, and tumbled to the ground.

He barely managed to roll away from Roden’s swinging foot.

“Oh, the fabric,” Tobias murmured. “It’s so pretty.”

“Quick-” Jaron dodged a flying fist “-question! What was in the bottle?”

Roden lunged, successfully grabbing Jaron by the left leg and dragging him to the ground. “It’s from Libeth!”

Now that wasn’t good at all. Libeth had some of the wildest alcohol brewers in the entire kingdom. Supposedly, they made a liquor strong enough to remove barnacles from sea vessels.

And how much had Tobias drank?

“He was-,” Tobias hiccuped and wiped his eyes. “Roden was making little hair scarves-,” another hiccup. “Making hair scarves for Murry. Little scarves, oh dear Saints, this boy can only wield a sword, bless him in these days as he-”

“Shut up Tobias!” Jaron and Roden yelled.

By the Devils! Roden had the upper hand again! Jaron was all too aware of Roden’s hand holding both of his wrists, which meant only one thing.

“Please, Roden, I beg you, it was just a joke!’ Jaron whimpered, trying to weasel out of his grip.

No, no, no.

The first time Jaron and Roden had gotten into a physical fight ended the same way, with Jaron unable to move and Roden prepared to deliver the finishing blow.

“I just wanted to cut up fabric!” Roden argued. “Tobias and I were doing fine before you barged in!”

“I was bored! Please don’t do this!”

“You could’ve helped with the fabric!”

“I wasn’t that bored!” Jaron squirmed again. “Please, Saints, no. No! Ah!”

The finishing blow was the worst part of the fight. Roden had licked his little finger, and shoved it into Jaron’s ear.

Although, now there was a third party involved.

Tobias flung his arms around both Roden and Jaron, tears streaming down his face. “I love you both with my whole heart, honest to the Saints. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Can you get Roden to take his nasty hands off of my body!?” Jaron bellowed, yanking his head free from Roden’s little finger.

“Does the baby need a nap?” Roden cooed.

Oh, ho, ho, Roden was remembering old exchanged insults. Jaron unsuccessfully tried to escape, but to no avail. Roden hooked his arms beneath Jaron’s knees, and swung him up into his arms, while still keeping a drunken Tobias on his feet.

“Put me down!”

“Not until you apologize!”

“Roden?”

“Yes?”

“Rot with the Devils, you clotpole.”

Tobias’s quiet tears turned into sobs as he wrapped his arms around Jaron and Roden once again. “Little hair scarves.”

It was quite the scene to walk into: Roden holding Jaron like a baby, Tobias sobbing like he’d learned he would die soon, and bits of cut up colorful fabric covered the floor. It just so happened that Amarinda’s night ride finished early.

They didn’t look pleased.

The disappointment in Mott’s eyes was an all too familiar sight.

“I can explain,” Jaron croaked, finally realizing that he’d lost the fight.

A fight that he started.

“It looks like a dress shop in here,” Mott clasped his hands behind his back, Amarinda, Renlyn, and Imogen trailing behind him.

Roden practically dropped Jaron on the floor. “I was trying to make something, and then Jaron showed up.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to hit me,” argued Jaron. He grunted when Tobias set his head on Jaron’s shoulder, and refused to move. “Get off of me!”

The only answer Tobias gave was a new wave of silent tears, and a fresh set of apologies.

Mott’s face didn’t betray a single emotion. “Weren’t you going to meet with Lord Row?”

“He moved the meeting back, and I happened to finish my work this evening, and didn’t want to be alone.”

“So you picked a fight with Roden?”

Jaron scowled, he realized how foolish he’d been in starting the fight. A conversation wouldn’t have been enough for him, there was too much energy bursting through his body.

“These are pretty,” Amarinda held up an opaque piece of yellow fabric.

“Don’t worry, I’m not making myself a skirt,” grunted Roden, his hands full of different fabric squares.

“Were you putting something together?”

“I finished, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“He was-,” Tobias hiccuped. “He was making tiny, tiny scarves. For Merry, to wear.”

There hadn’t been a time when Tobias had been so drunk before, or at least there hadn’t been a time Jaron could remember.

Amarinda sighed, and transferred Tobias’s head from Jaron’s shoulder to her own.“Oh, darling, what did you do this time?”

“They were fighting, and I’ve had it.”

Amarinda patted the side of Tobias’s head, her eyes boring into Jaron’s very soul. However, she gave no biting remarks, she only wrapped her arm around Tobias’s waist. Together, they inched towards the door.

Her smile was forced. “I’ll be taking him to our chamber, I don’t want him doing something foolish.”

“Is that from Libeth?” Imogen asked, gesturing to the bottle on Roden’s desk.

However, before anyone could give a clear answer, Renlyn took a large swig from the bottle, set it down, and frowned. “That batch was weak.”

“You know what?” Jaron crossed his arms. “I don’t think I want to know. Jolly told me about your tendencies.”

“Is that an invitation for me to take over the kingdom through a gambling match?”

“Absolutely not, I’ve been warned, and I won’t ever concede to your money games again.”

“That’s what they all say.”

By the Saints! Jaron scowled at Renlyn, who had the audacity to remain completely placid. He knew deep in his heart that he’d have to do something worse than terrorize Roden to get a reaction out of the notorious Renlyn Karise.

Imogen raised her hands, “Ah, we should take the energy down a notch, don’t you think?”

“Jaron started it!”

“I know Roden, I usually start things, unlike you.”

“Jaron!” Everyone chorused, followed by Tobias’s slurred agreement.

“What!?” Jaron crossed his arms, screwing his face into the fiercest scowl he could.

He’d rather be lectured than think of those cursed lyrics.

There was blood in the kitchen

There was blood in the halls

Jaron would rather hear complaints and be tossed around like a child’s doll than consider what fate had in store for him.

He wasn’t ready yet.

He just wasn’t ready.

#fic friday #prince jaron #roden #tobias #mott #princess amarinda #imogen #ocs #so many ocs #the ascendance series #fic friday except its saturday #also this was #too creepy #but so fun #the false prince #the runaway king #the shadow throne

15 notes · View notes

ralfstrashcan · 5 years

Text

3x11 Reaction / Commentary

So I haven't even started the episode and I'm already confused.

Why did Netflix put 3B in a separate folder? I mean, they didn't with 2B. What's the matter with that. Or is this just the German Netflix??

Smoooooothe move. Somewhere Derek Hale is smiling proudly.

Wtf why they so slow. I was half expecting this to be a simulation or sth because they took ages to arrive and then were walking super chill???

Seelie guy doesn't use this obvious distraction of the others to try and escape, since he knows he's just a minor character and shouldn't interfere.

Beautiful grieving sequence, especially Jace with the sketch of himself. I knew there would be a portrait of him in there before he even turned the page, I could feel it. I love how sensitive and therefore predictable the show is.

Ooooh nooooo Clary is still aliiiiiive, who whould have thought?!?!?! Okay sorry haha I had to.

lol didn't he look in a mirror recently and realize there's still no real resemblance? I mean, at least now he's not charred anymore, so I guess there's more resemblance than before, but you know what I mean. And I get it, this is supposed to be a parallelism to Lilith saying the same thing, but if memory serves right, at this point in time Jonathan was a) in a thick glass casket and b) dead so I'm wondering how he could have heard that.

wtf I'm getting sooo mixed signals from him. Does he want to give off creeper vibes or play house? Because he's kinda doing both?? Play Creeper House???

YEAH LITERALLY I WANT TO SEE THEIR HEATING BILLS

This...... doesn't sound as reassuring as it sounded in your head, Jonathan.

So, points for Clary for that ploy, but my heart is already pre-emptively breaking for Jonathan when he finds out she's playing him. The poor guy just wants family after being used and abused his whole life, man. Is that too much to ask.

More points for Clary for being sensible and grabbing a coat!!

“Clary, come on. You can't go out there. You're never gonna survive.”

Hahaha that had me laughing out loud. So Clary.

Okay, minus points for Clary for not actually wearing the coat. You had a winning streak of common sense but all good things must end, I guess.

Picturesque. But, uh, since Jonathan isn't following her she could slow down. And if she was a Slytherin, she would have waited til after breakfast with her daring escape.

LISTEN I LOVE THIS CASUAL DOMESTICITY

Also if you're more make-up versed than I am (which, admittedly, isn't very hard) and realized something was off about the way Magnus held that eyeliner stick (?) then check lynne-monstr's eyeliner salt club tag because it's hilarious. I also want to rec volunteer_of_hufflepuff's fic smile even though your heart is breaking because it's awesome.

...........................really. Really. That's how they want to play it? Ugh, okay. Ugh.

You know, I've had a whole lengthy extensive (dare I say exhaustive) rant ripening in my head since I saw this bit in the sneak peek but I'm just not in the mood, so let me cut it short: I get Simon's reaction emotionally, since losing Clary must be a horrible experience for him, but I'm still bitter about early 3A where blasting that werewolf across Taki's yard and knowing he might never walk again didn't bother Simon for one second. Repercussions should always matter, regardless of how close you are to the person affected.

Oh dear, she's still running. And her hair still looks like that?

Sure. Also

How can he keep up with her when he's walking and she's running? I mean he's not that much taller than her. Or does she run ten feet, pause to gasp and pant a little, runs again, stop and go, y'know? So on average she's just powerwalking.

Ok srsly I need to stop this nonsensical commentary.

Yeah and I guess he didn't notice the Clave-approved vampire-torture-sunlight construction Aldertree installed in this very same office (shown in 2x04 if you care to remember).

........who are you and what did you do to Alec Lightwood? You seriously want to tell me he'd consider not bringing up a violation of the Accords, and more importantly power abuse and torture, because of political reasons and he's “scared” to lose his standing with Jia? Please. He'd be enforcing Clave law. He'd be well within his right. We're talking about the guy who flat out refused to do the Inquisitor's bidding because it went against his moral code. Compared to that, this is a walk in the park. So. Please.

“I understand the kind of pain you're in, Jace.”

“No you don't. I'm sorry, you don't.”

“You're right...

Oh my god this isn't about Clary, or at least not for the most part. Jace is frikking traumatized because he wasn't in control of his body or his actions or his frakking mind for days. Btw I'm actually impressed and surprised they bothered to focus on anything but the Clary-Drama, namely Jace second-hand-killing like 33 people. And Imogen. And almost Alec. The way I see Jace he'll focus on his guilt, not the pain he feels over Clary's loss. Clary will be on his mind and that's one more thing to feel shitty about, because how can he be so selfish and think about his own pain when he brought so much more pain on other people? Jace has an incredibly intricately self-destructive mind and I love how it was portrayed here. Also loved the scene in general with some Izzy&Jace sibling feels, the tender way she talks to him, his kiss to her hand. But the focus (mainly because of Izzy) returning to Clary annoyed me a little.

And by the way, there is one person who can understand Jace. Alec. Because he was possessed by a demon and forced to kill someone, too. Granted, he doesn't have the memories of the action itself, but he saw it on tape. He blames himself because the demon fed off his own hate against Jocelyn. So I would really really love to see those two talking about it. I'm extremely thrilled to watch on and see if they do (but lol kinda hoping they don't because then I can finish writing my ficlet about it, which I sadly didn't manage to before 3B aired).

MY LIFE EXPECTANCY JUST INCREASED BY AT LEAST FIVE YEARS OKAY

Also what a damn badass nightlight, I want one as well even though I hate not to sleep in absolute darkness, that's how pretty this is.

HAHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHA I C A N ' T

ALEC'S OFFENDED FACE AS IF THIS IS NEWS TO HIM

Wow I'm so glad they didn't forget about Iris. I was scared, not gonna lie.

Tbh I don't find Madzie's reaction that realistic. I mean, Valentine – the first person to talk to her after she got ripped from her normal life in her normal home – told her Clary got Iris into trouble. At some point they must have told her that Iris isn't coming back. But did they really tell her Iris was breeding warlocks? I highly doubt that. At most they told her Iris did some bad things. But, since they probably said the same thing about Valentine (and he was always “nice” to her) and told her Clary wasn't in fact evil, that kind of loses its meaning. And let's not forget, she is a child. A probably traumatized child, I might add, since Valentine used her to literally kill at least ten Shadowhunters that we see on screen, likely more. Her perception of what is right and what is wrong is easily swayed. And personally I think she neither really registered that Iris is supposed to be the bad guy now nor that living with Catarina / Magnus and Alec is sooooo much better than living with Iris ever was, so her having such a strong opposition against going with Iris seems unrealistic to me.

Love this. So good.

This is actually really beautiful

This is actually really dramatic for no reason and I'm soooo here for it.

Soooooo am I the only one wondering why the F Cat didn't put some wards on Magnus's place? I mean????? There is no explanation given for that, and frankly I can't come up with one. If not for Magnus, then Cat would at least put wards there while Madzie stays with him. Or....... do they want to imply Cat doesn't know that he lost his magic?? Hä?! If so, who the hell patched Alec back up from his neat little life-threatening arrow wound? Cuz I had assumed it was Cat. Since, y'know Jace pleaded with Magnus to help Alec, implying (to me at least) that an iratze alone wouldn't cut it this time. Except of course, if he asked because he didn't want to be bothered with taking out his stele and activating Alec's healing rune, but when Magnus refused because no magic he had no other choice.... and let's be real, the first scene of this episode heavily implies that a healing rune can cure just about anything in 0.3 seconds flat.

Alec wanting to bench Magnus makes no sense. Keeping him around and/or at the Institute makes more sense than, oh I don't know, telling him to stay in his loft where there are no wards. Wtf is logic anyway, right?

I liked this scene, don't get me wrong but... what's with the tough love? Alec isn't usually like that?? He's soft and firm reassurance, not aggressive and authoritative reassurance. Did he try that route before and it didn't work?? I need some answers.

“I had no idea.”

“How could you? You weren't there.”

“Me leaving had nothing to do with Simon. I just needed to be alone.

Okay, what, am I supposed to blame Maia now for needing time for and taking care of herself? She's so defensive as if her leaving was objectively wrong, and it wasn't.

“I guess when times get tough, some people need to be alone. And others need to be around other people.

Please, this is a dirty lie. Remind me again, who was it that pushed Alec away after he found out about her yin fen addiction, insisted she could handle it on her own, ran away and finally confiding in some random stranger she had just met? It wasn't Maia. Who stayed up late all night, disregarding her own emotions and rather tearing herself apart trying to fix the drama of her brothers than to mention to anyone she wasn't alright? Wasn't Maia either.

I feel strongly about this because this seems like a really cheap way to break up Saia and set up Sizzy and I don't like cheap things. I don't like Sizzy either, but my main demand is quality, not a certain content. I'll accept Sizzy if it's done correctly. But this isn't it. This is laying blame on a character who's not to blame, and making claims about another character that are plain untrue if you look at the last three seasons.

I've said it before, there would be good ways to break up Saia. For example their attitude to violence differs greatly from one another. Maia is trigger-happy and sees no harm in it, Simon is more or less pacifistic (at least when he's not having his I-don't-care-about-anything-but-my-gig-mood). Creating a conflict out of this would have been in character. Claiming Maia is somehow to blame because she wasn't there is not only unfair, but also invalidating all Maia has done for Simon before, and that was a lot. Putting up with her shitty ex, helping him search for Lilith, fighting her own pack so they don't bully him. She was about to have a face-off with the Seelie Queen – the very same creature that held her hostage not too long ago – just to be by his side. Is that all suddenly not worth anything anymore, just because she had the audacity to take a little time for herself, to sort through her own issues?

Seriously, he let her walk in that? No wonder she collapsed. Jonathan should have gotten her nice hiking boots.

EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS

CAN WE JUST.... CAN WE...... APPRECIATE.......... HOW HE BATS ALL HER MAGIC ATTACKS AWAY....... LIKE............ MAGNUS................ H O W

Btw if this is supposed to sway me and make me see that benching Magnus would have been the right call, then it's not working, because fine, let's assume Magnus had gone home. Then Iris would have had an even easier job to snatch him away, because a) no wards and b) no sword. And on top of that Alec wouldn't have had a way of knowing that Magnus was even taken, since I doubt Iris would have let Magnus call or text him.

Do you even know that? I'd like to see what you're willing to do after being tortured for ten years. Just saying. But fine. Stay there on your high horse.

Ohmygod I am stunned. I couldn't have written that summation any better and to be honest I had assumed the show would just blackpaint Jonathan as evil villain and be done with it. This is so much more than I expected. I am impressed. (And of course now I hope that there will be a redemption arc for Jonathan, but I'm afraid I'm setting myself up for heartbreak with this one.)

Do they intend to tell me that this whole place is warmed by the fireplace? Why not by a heater? Since the three billion lamps

imply there's electricity somewhere. Or was that line about firewood just Jonathan's way to exit the scene? Who knows.

“Ollie? Doesn't remember a thing. Praetor was good about getting her and Samantha relocated. New identities. They're safe now, like everyone else.”

I'm still high-key bitter about this. I love Ollie a great deal, okay, so this is a pretty disappointing solution to outsource her from the plot. Just let her forget all the shit so she doesn't have to deal with trauma. Guess she thinks now her mother died in an explosion caused by a gas leakage or something. I wonder what the mundane police has to say about that and how long it'll take them to find her, since, y'know, they have evidence against her and all that.

Edit: This doesn't actually make sense if you think about it. Did Ollie just get dropped into a witness protection program for no reason she can remember? Or does that “new identities” actually mean they have completely new identities because they don't remember ANYTHING from their old life?? I need answers.

I get it. This is supposed to make me see how rundown and wasted Luke is. But is he purposefully trying to make himself look like a confused hobo? I mean couldn't he like, prepare the notes he wanted to show Jace? It's like he's trying to reinforce to Jace he shouldn't listen to a thing Luke says because these are clearly the actions of a desperate man. Presentation is half the battle man, man.

Hah, badass. There's a reason I love him.

I totally dig Magnus in his kiddie clothes, but I also need a lot of answers because there's blood on his hands and bodies at his feet and this doesn't look like magic gone haywire, this looks like a massacre and I need answers. I wonder if they're gonna explain this flash or just let it sit there uncommented. (I hope they address it and I hope it has something to do with Asmodeus and their time together.)

Ugh do I honestly have to reiterate that parking Magnus in his ward-less loft wouldn't have helped? Also, he's a grown-ass man and can make decisions for himself, dammit.

Owning up to his mistakes unrestrainedly. There's a reason I have a soft spot for Raphael.

New York, huh? What a coincidence. Wouldn't want him to live somewhere else and have Maia burn through the other half of her paycheck to pay some warlock to portal them again, right?

Also, not to be controversial, but why don't they ask the Praetor first? Since they had a whole ass book on the mark of cain and everything. And figured out what it is. And getting rid of something so dangerous is basically their job. I mean. Just saying.

You know I always marvel at this. Just because he's old he knows shit? Is there really an age where knowledge pops into your head just because? Because I'm still waiting for that to happen to me, let me tell you. Just like being immortal somehow grants you immediate access to celebrities and the questionable honor to be in the midst of all historical events of the slightest relevance? Srsly if I was immortal I'd still be glued to my lappy and hate going out.

LOL give Iris a front row seat on how you smashed her XD XD XD

IT'S SUPER EFFECTIVE

<3 <3 <3

This exchange thing is a ploy, and to be honest, a painfully obvious one. I find it really kinda hard to believe Iris falls for it. What I've been asking myself since this plot line started is, why didn't Iris have that idea herself? Like, I honestly expected her to use Magnus as a hostage and tell Alec he either hand over Madzie or she'll kill Magnus. Makes way more sense than her just trying to find Madzie herself and then what, try to break her out again? That didn't work last time, and since the warlocks are warned by Magnus's abduction it'd be even unlikelier to work now. I get it plot-wise since it'd be a little awkward if Iris out-blackmailed the Shadowhunters, but like. Seriously. What's the in-universe-explanation for this???

I don't know why, but Magnus looks super cute in this shot.

Five bucks say this is Izzy with a shapeshifting rune, and ISTG if this is actually Madzie then I can just shake my head at them.

Okay, I totally dig Lightwood siblings working together but. Why do you have to simultaneously hurt me with plot holes.

1) Where did they get Seelie Magic? Did they employ Meliorn? Srlsy. Also, the Seelie Magic at the beginning of the episode could move so why was Illusion!Madzie standing there like a display dummy? That was super suspicious.

2) Why didn't they use a shapeshifting rune? The illusion would have held longer, Izzy could have gotten closer and tied Iris up more easily, without Magnus getting smashed first. But, drama I guess.

3) Where the f is Catarina? Please. Her ward almost gets kidnapped and all she does is go “Oh shit, gotta relocate her to some other High Warlock lol.” Her best friend gets kidnapped and all she does is go “Oh shit, but whatever, here have a fake ransom note but don't think I'll move my ass from this super important Bitching and Drinking Conference. I payed like 200 bucks to get in.” Wtf. This is shitty ooc behavior from her. Wtf. She's either suuuuuper confident that Alec and Izzy will get Magnus back no problem, or she doesn't give a shit about him, and sorry, I don't believe either of those two options.

HAHAHA I'M SCREAMING LOOOOOL!!! Is this code for “We wanted to kill her but Lilith was quicker so we'll pretend we weren't even interested in killing her in the first place”? The Clave, man. Always good for a laugh.

No, dummy, this is their R&D Department.

I'm not even kidding, remember 2x04:

Oh the good old times.

This was. Really good. Really. I'm like, reeling. I feel like show writers read too many fanfics and therefore the Malec scenes this ep were exquisite. Magnus evasively running around and not liking his “powerlessness.” Alec there to reassure him with the sweetest of words. Their kiss, not to short, but hard and determined, with feeling. Top tier shit.

Wow, even though the words that left their mouths were reassuring and good it still feels like their relationship is suddenly dying. I wonder why that is? Oh, right. Because Sizzy, that's why.

I love.

Ooooh guess the residual electricity finally ran out. And I guess Clary turned all the candles off to match the mood? Also, since it was dark outside before and now isn't anymore.... was Jonathan out collecting firewood the entire night? That's dedication, man.

.......what a coincidence that their healing rune is in the exact same spot. On that note, I've been wondering.... if the ressurection resetted his skin to a state it hasn't been in for ten years, effectively un-charring it, shouldn't his runes have disappeared as well? Did he spend the “days” Clary was sleeping with putting runes all over himself?? On that note, why the hell did Clary have to sleep for days when Jonathan was the one who came back from the dead? All that Clary did was running at Simon in slow motion. I mean, I know what I would find more taxing.

I soooo appreciate the blood on her teeth. Such care for detail <3

Okay, so I realize that this makes Jonathan look like a fanatic, but I actually understand this scene like this: He's not an idiot. He knew Clary wasn't really going to give him a chance. But this, this is his chance, because now she has no choice but to stick with him and see for herself.

Btw if you're wondering why I'm so pro Jonathan, you can read the beginning of this post where I got out all of my Jonathan Feels. Basically, until I actually see him act intrinsically evil I refuse to believe all hope is lost for him. He did terrible things, yes, and he's aware of that, but the way I see it he did them because he wasn't ever presented with an alternate choice. And now that he has one, he's holding onto it tooth and nail. He wants to leave all the pointless violence behind.

I'm aware he's a sadistic psycho in the books, but this wouldn't be the first time the show gave a character a make-over (for the better) and so far the only compelling piece of evidence on the show in favor of Jonathan's demon blood causing him to be unsavably evil was Jocelyn's vision of him killing a flower as a baby, and it's not even clear if that was intentional. So excuse me if that's not enough for me to write him off.

Gif Sources: Malec cheek kiss, Magnus being cutesy with his croc impression, Magnus brandishing his sword *facepalm* you know what I mean, Magnus batting Iris's magic away

#shadowhunters #alec lightwood #magnus bane #jace wayland #clary fray #isabelle lightwood #jonathan morgenstern #simon lewis #maia roberts #luke garroway #jia penhallow #raphael santiago #malec #magnus is badass #reaction

12 notes · View notes

rosykims · 5 years

Note

5 + 10 for emeraude, 14 + 18 for effie, 19 + 24 for arylene and 30 through 45 for imogen bc i love her so much ? 😏😏😏

fdjkfjkfdk thank u SO much maia i absolutely Treasure You !

EMERAUDE HAWKE - DA2

What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night?

emeraudes fashion sense is probably my favourite out of all my ocs, so uh if u havent looked at her pinterest board yet u should do that bc its Very cute hehehe

anyway for the most part she sticks to dark, practical clothing whenever she's out and about in kirkwall or doing merc work, etc. she picks clothes that convey strength and power, but she likes having a little bit of colour somewhere on the piece, just to keep things interesting. she's not much of an embroider, but was a good way to keep herself distracted during hard times, so she tends to add little patterns here and there whenever she gets the chance!

as for special occasions, for her this would actually just be. a quiet night at home or a relaxed gathering with her friends. bc its so rare for her to have that lmao. anyway for events like that she usually wears light colours and soft fabrics, simple but always decorated with flowers or colourful patterns.

What does your OC keep in a special drawer?

she has a collection of gifts ! that kids from lowtown would give her over the years she spent in kirkwall. she's a very community based person and wants to do right for her city, and shes very nurturing (in an ironical, Cool Big Sister way) so she likes making sure all the kids are safe and being looked after. she gets a lot of trinkets and strange gifts from some of the kids as a result, but she does treasure them (even if she laughs about it with her friends) and keeps them all !

EFFIE RYDER - MEA

Who is the mother and/or father figure in your OC’s life?

effie's maternal rolemodel has always been her late mother, ellen. nobody could really fill that role in her eyes, since they had such a close, positive relationship before she passed. her relationship with her dad was a lot more strained and it really impacted a lot of her relationships later on in life too ! she tends to.... see an older man who is Vaguely Nice to her, and then think “ oh, youre my dad now?” which isnt fair to anybody obviously but yeah she,,,, has a lot of unresolved issues regarding alec and tends to unintentionally project so. We stan !

How many times did your OC move as a child? Which area was his/her favorite?

oh constantly lol. With her dad being an n7 and her mother working so hard on her research, they tended to move around wherever her parents work required. she actually enjoyed it this way. she was never good at making long term friends, but she lived meeting new people, and obviously with the move she got to experience a lot of different cultures which really put the idea of adventuring and travelling in her head at a young age.

ARYLENE TORR - TES IV

What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them?

she likes them ! she tends to keep her distance with most communities and groups of people in particular, but she does like enjoys having the odd conversation with the odd street urchin here and there, either sharing with them some strange, ridiculous life advice or – if shes feeling particularly chaotic – telling them the scariest stories she can think of. as for having them, arylene isnt AGAINST the idea, but she has far too much for the foreseeable future for that to ever be a good idea

Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates?

outwardly, arylene is an almost unbearably easy going person, so you would assume she doesnt hate anyone lol. but she does DEEEPLY dislike cults and groups of ignorant people who are arrogant enough to start messing with the balance of life, or making deals with gods, etc. she believes that people like that can do an unbelievable amount of damage, so she invests a lot of time and effort it sabotaging any group or plot she happens to find !

IMOGEN FOSTER - RDR2

Did your OC participate in extracurricular activities, and if so, what were they?

hmm idk if this even EXISTED in 19th century london lol, but she would have done some very tame version of girl scouts as a child! She barely remembers any of it, but she liked the classes on what plants did what, which were safe to eat, and the likes. its something that helps her a lot when on the run with the gang, and something shes always had a personal interest in, as a nurse !

other than that, she’s done a lot of independent study on history, classical literature, and she speaks fluent italian we stan !

What is your OC’s opinion of school? What kind of student was s/he?

imogen comes from a very wealthy aristocratic family, so she was very fortunate that her privilege afforded her the education she got at the time. she is VERY grateful to have attended the schools she did, and she made sure to make the most of it, paying attention in class and studying harder than most of her classmates. she's a smart girl with a very active mind, so knowledge is something she can't get enough of. she was actually petitioning the board of education to allow her to attend university before she left for america – already their had been women accepted into universities at that time, but obviously it was still a very scandalous thing lol, especially since imogen wanted to study medicine.

What subjects did your OC excel at?

imogen is a HUGE overachiever and did pretty well at basically everything from science, mathematics, language studies and later on, in her studies as a nurse. i can tell you what shes bad at though lmao

anything physical really dkdkdks she is TERRIBLE at horse-riding since she usually just went by carriage everywhere in the city. art and poetry and writing in general she was never great at, because she's a pretty logical person and was told she never put enough emotion in her work lol !!! sports...obviously was very limited anyway as growing up in like? the early 1870s lol. and as for the traditionally feminine lessons in like ?? sewing and cooking and stuff well ! she was very average at them which made her  feel worse than if she was actually bad bc she's so used to excelling and making a name for herself oof

What subjects interested your OC?

Imogen loves greek literature and mythology !! the iliad is her favourite book and she keeps her heavily annotated, dog eared copy – a gift from her late father – on her person almost constantly. needless to say its why dutch admires her as much as he does lol.

obviously, as a nurse-trying-to-be-a-doctor, she has a great love for medicine in all its forms. she's always been fascinated in natural remedies, and even moreso when she's running with the van der linde gang and is really relying on the land to survive.

What is your OC’s dream job and/or current profession?

hmm okay so. Technically she's a nurse – she worked in her father's hospital for almost 10 years prior to his death, and she was sort of his unofficial understudy, as in she knows a LOT more than her job description requires lol. but after her father past away, another, less progressive man took his place as chief of surgery and made a lot of changes to the way the hospital operated, and imogen was let go. she and her mother were fighting against it, however, under the ground of unfair dismissal, but obviously given the time period it didnt get them very far. so ! i mean technically she's unemployed rn. but she still has dreams of being a doctor, or at least continuing her career in medicine.

How is your OC working towards their dream job and/or achieved their current profession?

Oh VERY direct action up until she got disheartened and chose to take her sabbatical. she had been working in her role for nearly a decade, and was very obviously one of the most experienced nurses there. even younger doctors would sometimes ask her for her medical opinion dksksks anyway what i am saying is Brain Very Good. she had been fighting to gain admission into a university – any, she wasnt picky – to study medicine officially, but it didnt get very far and she put it on hold after her father got sick. after he died and she was laid off, she fought even harder against the city to reinstate her title, and continues to fight after she returns from america a year or so later.

What are your OC’s thoughts/opinions of his/her current profession?

helping people is her entire life, and she wouldn't know what to do without it. she loves being a nurse enough to fight to be a doctor, but also in BEING a nurse, she is hyperaware of all the things current medical standards seem to get wrong, and she has a lot of ideas about how else to go about things. her father, a shockingly progressive and worldly man for the time period, shared her sentiment, but he wasn't able to make the changes he wanted to before he passed, so imogen hopes she can be the change herself, and make her father proud

What is your OC’s biggest dream?

being a licenced doctor, babey ! preferably at her father's hospital, but at the point she will take what she can get.

How does your OC react to and handle stress?

imogen handles stress very well , which is partially why she makes such a good medic, and also how she managed to survive the first week of being with the van der linde gang lmao. she is very good at shutting out EVERY distraction when things get dicey, and her brain tends to move at a million miles an hour. all traces of english etiquette and politeness go out the window, though, so you'll usually catch her barking orders at people, and yelling at anyone who prevents her from doing the work she needs to do. it.....is a big wake up call for people like dutch and micah, and gets her into a LOT of trouble on multiple occasions.

How does your OC handle anger?

ooo......not great. she’s grown up with parents who maybe encouraged her to speak her mind a bit....TOO much given the historical circumstances lol. she really doesn’t stand for ignorance or prejudices in any capacity, and if she has a problem with someone and it gets in the way of her trying to do her work or help others - she will ABSOLUTELY be having words. she also overestimates her own strength quite a lot. she’s tried to throw hands with micah MANY times, often forgetting she’s this tiny 70kg englishwoman and he’s .... Him sdjkdcjkf. she has a big mouth too so she often says snide remarks without even meaning too, which tends to get her in trouble as well. on the bright side, it also helps her fit in with the gang quite well, because for the most part they all appreciate how wild she is lmao

How does your OC handle grief?

hmm i guess it depends on what you would class as “well”? she doesnt cry very often - being stoic and handling your emotions is important when your a nurse - but she does tend to shove her feelings down far longer than she should, and tries to pretend they don’t exist by simply focusing on other things. she also blames herself when a lot of things go wrong, because she’s a perfectionist and wants to FIX everything, so when she finds something - or someone - she can’t save, it feels like a personal failure. like she let them down :(

What is your OC’s greatest fear?

probably being trapped in an unhappy, unfulfilling marriage with someone who undervalues her. she’s not much of a homebody and doesn’t have too much of an interest in being married, but the idea of feeling FORCED to marry someone in order to have a decent quality of life makes her blood run cold oof

What makes your OC happy?

helping people ! meeting new folks ! learning about other cultures and ways of life! learning about NEW THINGS in general ! proving people wrong ! insulting micah !

as tough and high-and-mighty as she sometimes seems, she’s a pretty easy person to please, honestly. treat her with respect, give her space to do the things she wants to do, and don’t get in the way of her opportunities to learn new things, and she’s mostly very happy !

What kind of sense of humor does your OC have?

she has a fairly macabre and sardonic sense of humour, something she picked up from her mother. she says a lot of Shocking things for the time period, and she’s not shy of dirty jokes either. the first time sean heard her, a soft, well spoken english Lady, make some filthy, crude joke, he nearly had a stroke right there on the spot kjkjkfdjkf

What are some things that greatly upset your OC?

senseless violence, suffering or cruelty. she really hated the gang at first and hoped to escape the first chance she got, because all she could see was the crime and disregard for human life she assumed they all held. fortunately, as she got to know them, she realized this wasn’t exactly the case, but she still has a lot of anger in her heart for a few key members of the gang who seem to enjoy bloodshed more than anything. she also hates any form of social prejudice, and people who gatekeep knowledge and opportunities from others.

What are some things that annoy your OC?

i guess all of the above, but she also dislikes misplaced arrogance, and people who talk down to others. she tolerates dutch, but often gets frustrated with the way he speaks, using as many big words as he can to manipulate and confuse others. she believes that really intelligence doesn’t require obscure jargon and big, fancy words - she likes keeping things simple, so everybody can follow along.

#trvelyans #asks #ilysm for asking so many questions gal and sorry for the late reply !#oc: emeraude #oc: effie #oc: arylene #oc: imogen #imogen is my new rdr2 oc in case u couldnt tell djkdsjks #i need to update my ocs page with all my new Babies #also im so sorry for how long and probably messy these replies are #i did Not proofread this in the slightest so. godspeed !!#/ long post

2 notes · View notes

justlostpuppies-blog · 5 years

Text

Tips for Wedding Photographers

The application we as a whole love and love to despise. It's a passionate rollercoaster that we can't get off of, yet rather, proceed to remain and ride out the consistently evolving calculations. With the 'Gram being so open to question, it tends to be difficult to comprehend what's the most recent tip that will be ensured to work. In spite of the fact that we can't represent what is new with Insta today (I mean, can anybody truly?), we are here to share our most loved Instagram tips! These time tested tips have been useful to us throughout the years and we trust they will be of a similar help to you!

#1 SCHEDULING APPS

Booking applications can be a lifeline when your plate is full. Many planning applications help you make posts early, compose subtitles and hashtags, post in a split second or send you updates, give investigation, thus considerably more! Here at Photobug, Onlypult is our top choice, yet there are a huge amount of extraordinary ones like UNUM, Later, Planoly, and Hootsuite. Invest less energy quickly endeavoring to make sense of what photograph to post next that is tastefully satisfying, and rather, put aside time toward the start of your week to design out a little while at once!

#2 METRICS

Regardless of whether you have assistance from booking applications and they're measurements or not, it's constantly useful to survey your posts without anyone else time and jump somewhat more profound to perceive any reason why something may do as such well (or not all that well). This implies, setting aside the opportunity to go in the course of the last 9-15 posts and draw what's progressing admirably so you can do your own examination on it – see what these posts share for all intents and purpose. Is it the season of day you're posting? Explicit hashtags? What do the subtitles resemble – nonexclusive or authentic, about the couple or about you? There's so much you can learn by completing a brisk investigation of your posts!

#3 HASHTAGS

Before you moan and feign exacerbation, tune in up. We as a whole know hashtags can help extend your span, however precisely how you use them can represent the moment of truth a post. It appears as though Instagram is centered around shadowbanning posts and records that appear to be malicious, and you don't need that! So as to keep things certifiable and not raise any warnings, we have a few fundamental hashtag tenets to pursue:

#4 ENGAGEMENT

Talking about spam, one approach to give your record somewhat more believability is by associating with your devotees. Regardless of whether it's answering to remarks, DMs, or utilizing stories, the more certifiable and keen your collaborations appear to be, the more outlandish Instagram is going to stamp you as spam. Additionally, you can build the soundness of your presents just by answering on remarks. So as opposed to tapping the heart beside each new remark you get, take two or three seconds to hit answer and state a speedy much obliged.

#5 VULNERABILITY

Consider a portion of your most loved records to pursue. I wager that a large portion of them (if not all) are accounts where the individual will in general be genuinely open and legitimate to their identity outside of their business. Furthermore, I'm not looking at having a slogan that is tied in with shooting "bona fide couples who are fiercely infatuated". I'm looking at demonstrating your identity, in and outside of your business. You can discuss an ongoing show you've as of late marathon watched, give a look into in the background work life, flaunt your adorable pet, anything you need. That is the magnificence of this application – it is whatever you make of it!

50 Photography Quotes to Lean On in 2019

Motivation can be found anyplace – individuals, films, light, music, and, in this occasion, words. We have concocted 50 photography statements that are certain to give you a portion of motivation. So whether you complete a snappy read through or plan to hang a couple of top choices where you can see all the time (vision load up anybody?), any wedding picture taker is certain to discover comfort in these motivating statements.

"There is one thing the photo must contain, the humankind existing apart from everything else." - Robert Frank

"Photography is a method for feeling, of contacting, of adoring. What you have gotten on film is caught perpetually… It recollects seemingly insignificant details, long after you have overlooked everything."

"Photography has no principles, it's anything but a game. It is the outcome which tallies, regardless of how it is accomplished." - Brandt

"The photos are there, and you simply take them." - Robert Capa

"The best pictures are the ones that hold their quality and effect throughout the years, paying little heed to the occasions they are seen." - Anne Geddes

"My enthusiasm for photography isn't to catch a picture I see or even have in my psyche, yet to investigate the capability of minutes I can just start to envision." - Lois Greenfield

"It's tied in with responding to what you see, ideally without assumption. You can discover pictures anyplace. It's just an issue of seeing things and sorting out them. You simply need to think about what's around you and have a worry with mankind and the human satire." - Elliott Erwitt

"Light makes photography. Grasp light. Appreciate it. Adore it. Be that as it may, most importantly, know light. Know it for all you are worth, and you will know the way to photography." - George Eastman

"On the off chance that a picture taker thinks about the general population before the focal point and is humane, much is given. It is the picture taker, not the camera, that is the instrument." - Eve Arnold

"It is one thing to photo individuals. It is another to make others care about them by uncovering the center of their humanness." - Paul Strand

"The craft of photography is tied in with coordinating the consideration of the watcher." - Steven Pinker

"Photography is a little voice, best case scenario, yet once in a while one photo, or a gathering of them, can draw our feeling of mindfulness." - W. Eugene Smith

"In the wake of following the group for some time, I'd at that point go 180 degrees the careful inverse way. It generally worked for me." - Elliott Erwitt

"Photography is the excellence of life caught."

"A great deal of picture takers imagine that on the off chance that they purchase a superior camera they'll have the capacity to take better photos. A superior camera won't complete a thing for you on the off chance that you don't have anything in your mind or in your heart." - Arnold Newman

"You know, I truly don't assume you gain from instructors. You gain from work. I think what you realize, truly, is the manner by which to be-you must be your very own hardest faultfinder, and you just discover that from work, from seeing work." - Garry Winogrand

"I don't believe there's any such thing as showing individuals photography, other than affecting them a bit. Individuals must be their own students. They must have a specific ability." - Imogen Cunningham

"There is just you and your camera. The impediments in your photography are in yourself, for what we see is the thing that we are." - Ernst Haas

"To me, it is smarter to 'surmise' at how something works, try, come up short, surmise once more, fall flat, and continue rehashing that procedure again and again until you either make sense of it or you find an assortment of other cool traps en route." - Trey Ratcliff

"Inventiveness needs to stretch out past the focal point. Find inventive approaches to exhibit your work and get it seen. Straight up persistence, diligent work and assurance will dependably be a piece of the condition, so get to it." - Jimmy Chin

"Be brave, be unique, be unreasonable, be whatever will attest trustworthiness of direction and innovative vision against the play-it-safers, the animals of the typical, the captives of the conventional." - Cecil Beaton

"I never have snapped a photo I've proposed. They're in every case better or more awful."

"Anybody can shoot bedlam. Be that as it may, the most insightful photographic artists can make convincing pictures out of uninteresting minutes." - Alex Tehrani

"Photography is for me, an unconstrained drive that originates from an ever-mindful eye, which catches the minute and its time everlasting." - Henri Cartier Bresson

"What I'm attempting to state is discover approaches to rouse yourself and your customers by taking on difficulties and thinking quick in circumstances that aren't moving, make them moving." - Jose Villa

"Individuals feel great before the camera just when you figure out how to enable them to feel good being there! It is tied in with mixing them with your energy and teaching them about the amount they will appreciate the procedure." - David Beckstead

"At the point when individuals take a gander at my photos I need them to feel the manner in which they would when they like to peruse a line of a lyric twice." - Robert Frank

"Try not to take a gander at other wedding picture taker's work. When you stroll into a room, locate the one thing that you are pulled in to and center around that. Your senses will control you to finding a picture that you cherish." - Ben Chrisman

"I need pictures like these. The benevolent that can catch a minute, make it genuine, make it last. I need pictures that accomplish more than reflect. I need pictures that are truth."

"It's extremely an extraordinary resource for be eager to fall flat and blow it, in a manner of speaking, and to approve of simply making stuff, sharing it and getting input." - Chase Jarvis

"What we are doing is giving a space to couples to perceive how delightful they truly are."

"Purchasing a Nikon doesn't make you a picture taker. It makes you a Nikon proprietor." - Unknown Author

"Regardless of how exceptional your camera despite everything you should be in charge of getting it to the ideal spot at the opportune time and pointing it the correct way to get the photograph you need."

"A decent photo is realizing where to stand."

What do we feel when we take a gander at a decent photo? We simply need to be there, comfortable precise minute tha

#Candid Wedding Photography #Candid Wedding Photography in Delhi #Best candid wedding Photography

2 notes · View notes

diveronarpg · 6 years

Photo

Congratulations, SIDNEY! You’ve been accepted for the role of IMOGEN. Admin Rosey: First and foremost let me just say that Imogen has been one of my favorite characters in any play ever. She is the epitome of virtue and whenever I think of Lady Justice, I think of Imogen. I truly didn’t think that others would be as taken with them as I was, but Sidney, I’m so, so very happy that you’ve become as infatuated with them as I have. What got me was the tally that you kept running between their head and their heart. It’s something that encapsulates their struggle in both Shakespeare’s plays and in Isabella as well. You know how to ruin us, so ruin us well with Imogen why don’t you? Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

Out of Character

Alias | Sidney Age | 21 Preferred Pronouns | She/her Activity Level | I’m fairly active! I’m usually here when I’m not working or sleeping, and most likely mobile and available to plot. I get to replies within 1-3 days depending on muse and time management! On a numerical scale, I’d say I’m a 6-7/10. Timezone | EST Current/Past RP Accounts | My current DV account is here.

In Character

Character | Imogen / Isabella Gagliano (this would be my second character!)

Isabella ‘Izzy’ Beatriz Gagliano

ISABELLA - devoted to God; quite literal but not chosen for its meaning but because it was their grandmother’s name, something their father was adamant about his child bearing. To this day, they hate it on pure principle and prefer Izzy above all else. Bella, but only if you’re lucky.

BEATRIZ - happiness, bringer of joy; chosen by their mother especially for her baby girl, for her daughter’s face always brought out a smile in whoever held them. This is often the name they give out as their last and it is the name attached to all articles they’ve written for public consumption. They have identification to match as well; very few know their true surname and that’s the way they prefers it.

GAGLIANO - joyous, hard, brave; wholly not of their choosing and one they hated much throughout their youth as it followed them wherever they went, tragedy in tow. They shed it the moment they left Spain and never looked back. It belongs to their father and for all they care, he can fucking keep it.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

ONE: COMEUPPANCE

Undeniably, Izzy has a lot of rage. Granted, it lies in wait deep beneath the surface, often clouded by their ever changing emotions and the vast spectrum of creativity that encompasses their mind on any given day, but it’s there if you know where to look. If you cut deep enough, there’s no telling what they’ll do to retaliate. What I’d love to explore is their hunger for justice. How far are they willing to go to expose the truth? They want nothing more than to lay Verona’s sins before the people’s feet, for all the world to see. And while they think they’re doing all these things for the greater good, I’d love to push them into a much more morally grey territory. They’ve already dabbled in anarchy when they watched as Nikolai set the Northern Grove aflame. But do they know Puck seriously injured someone? And are they okay with that as long as it means justice will be served? I’m a sucker for negative development and I think Izzy is the perfect person to nudge closer and closer to the edge of their own haphazardly constructed set of rules in hopes they breaks them. They’re bound and determined to punish someone, but I don’t think they realize you cannot pick and choose the lives lost in times of war. And their reckless wrath is guaranteed to take down an innocent person or two much sooner rather than later.

TWO: INTELLECT

They’re so smart, well read, and kept up-to-date on all current events as they make it their business to be, but their heart — Izzy’s fickle, fickle heart — and the madness it contains is almost too strong for the sharpest of minds to compete with. It’s taken them a long while to learn how to balance that fire that resides deep within their chest, the flames licking along the edges of their heart against the natural intellect and heaps of knowledge embedded inside their mind. It’s a constant battle, from one moment to the next a fight between head and heart, and sometimes — a lot of the time, if they’re being truthful — their heart wins. They can’t help it; they feel so deeply. This was always something their mother encouraged, though. To not feel is to not live, she’d say but as Izzy aged, the more they were penalized for daring to do such a thing. The more tears they shed, the dirtier the looks were from their peers and the less they were listened to. But the farther Izzy is pushed, the more these horrible people get away with ruining an entire city, the more likely Izzy is to crumble and crack under pressure. The results of which could be catastrophic for not only her but everyone else. This is a daily struggle for Izzy, balancing decision making between what they feel is right and what they know is probable. As of late that intellect they’re so proud of has taken a bit of a back seat in favor of such strong emotions. I think it’s entirely possible that Izzy will make a very poor decision based on what their heart wants versus what they know is the right choice. And furthermore I want them to make that decision! Whether its furthering their trust in Nikolai even though they know they shouldn’t. There’s no going back once the deed is done; you can’t take back decisions of a vengeful heart, you can only move forward once they’re made. That’s the funny thing about love, especially when Izzy since loves so intensely. And they’re the type of person who will do anything their heart tells them to. Anything.

THREE: HUBRIS

Working with the likes of Puck and Nikolai, Izzy has gained a certain confidence. Everything has been going their way and they’ve gotten exactly what they wanted. But does Izzy truly even know what that is? I think whether the Montagues and Capulets live or die has become a second burner problem for them right now. The light of the sun is far too bright for them to make out anything other than the vengeance that has been so prevalent in their vision for so long. And the successful ruination at the Northern Grove has only made them more confident that what they’re doing, this mission they’re on, is exactly the right answer. I want to develop this further as Izzy will surely begin to dance with many a devil in the streets of Verona. The only way to win a war is to secure allied forces and then strike. But will they be foolish enough to trust the devil himself? I don’t know that Izzy will be able to see past a fatal deceit as they cascade closer and closer to the sun. If only they could just reach it. Touch it. It’d make everything better, wouldn’t it? If they can just get it, that holy grail, that one vital piece of information that could make the whole house of cards come crashing down, it’d all be worth it. Every sacrifice, every life lost. At least that’s what they tell themselves. But what of the hero who thinks themselves a god? It’s one thing to save people for the sake of saving them but it is an entirely different kind of monster to demand they revere you for your work. I’d love to put Izzy in a situation in which there’s the chance to put their name on one of the many good deeds they do! They’ve lived a life of modesty for so long, even going so far as to conceal their true surname, but how will they fair if they start to garner recognition? I can’t wait to find out.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes.

In Depth

In-Character Interview:

What is your favorite place in Verona?

She first thinks of To Tame A Soup and all the people it helps, all the mouths it feeds and the beds it offers to those in need of a warm night’s sleep. It brings a smile to her face, eyes lulling shut as she leans back in the couch. The question, on the lips of someone she doesn’t trust but is indebted to for exactly this purpose, begs to be answered. Truthfully. Thankfully the first lesson she’d learned when she’d arrived in Verona was how to lie, something every citizen needs to become proficient in if they intend to survive.

“The Library,” she lied with a smile and a slight cant of her head. “All those books,” she leans in close, eyes widening at the mention of literature, which wasn’t a falsehood by the slightest. It’s always better to tell an adjacent truth. The advice sings in her head like a sweet melody she’ll never forget. “I could spend hours in there,” she smiles, thinking back to the past five Sundays she has spent there. At least a dozen books all spread out across the table before her, laptop open as she typed furiously, looking from one text to the other every so often.

From a distance, she looked as inconspicuous as anyone. A student studying for an exam, that was her cover, and naturally, it worked. Her notes, however, would beg to differ, covering nothing from the books before her but instead noting every Montague who came and went.

“But I’m sure I’m not the only one who loves it there.”

What does your typical day look like?

“It depends if I’m on a deadline,” she clears her throat and adjusts in her seat, letting the deception fall off her shoulders as she rests back again. “If I am, I wake early and head out to find a quiet place to write,” her eyes wander over to her desk in the corner, papers littered about. “It’s hard for me to write here most times. There’s too much to distract me,” she lets out a small laugh, self-deprecating in its tone. “I have horrible impulse control.”

“I volunteer as much as I can throughout the week when I’m not working as well, but other than that…” arms now crossed, one hand drifts up and she begins to tap an index finger against her chin as she thinks back over the past week, “I like the theater…” she’s grasping at straws now, quite nervous to tell them she rather enjoys just sitting at home most nights.

“I’m relatively boring, I suppose.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

Falling in love.

Izzy doesn’t even have to think before the answer comes to her in a rushing tidal wave of bittersweet happiness, the image of Celeste peeking into her closed eyes. Now that is the truest answer of them all and it’s something she’d never want Celeste to know. Regret is never something Izzy wants to carry around, but at this point, the guise of calm, cool, and collected is bound to shatter. The thought breaks her heart in this moment, sitting before a stranger asking shallow questions one moment and asking Izzy to bear her soul the next. Tears sting in her eyes the moment she opens them, the dam that rests between her head and her heart threatening to break at any moment.

“I’m not sure…” she stutters, unable to form the right words — unable to come up with a suitable lie on the spot. She repeats the same gesture as before, one arm raising to rest beneath her chin as an index finger taps furiously against her chin. This time it rises and runs along her bottom lip. The truth is Izzy has never had to look this deep inside. She’s never been asked to critique her own character, nor should she. She is always justified in any of her actions and has to answer to no one.

“Next question,” she says firmly, digit rising a couple more inches to wipe away the one tear that broke through. It’s damp against the pad of her finger but she doesn’t linger and wipes it away on her knee.

Head: 1 Heart: 0

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

In an instant, she’s agitated. Frustrated beyond belief at the audacity of this person that she barely knows asking all these questions of which they have no right to the answer.She was doing them the favor after all, so how dare they?

“This,” she blurted, eyes rolling too fast for her to stop herself.

Head: 1 Heart: 1

Fuck.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

The mere mention of them is enough to cause her to clench her fists where she sits. She clenches so tight a knuckle cracks and she plays it off by cracking a few more and forcing a complacent smile onto her features.

“Truthfully?” she asks as calmly as she can, but she can’t resist the offer to say her piece. If they really wanted to know, Izzy would tell them exactly what she thinks. “I think they’re going to rip this city a part.” Her statement is matter of fact, concluded with a nod and a stern look of intent at the asker. It’s a truth she believes deep in her bones, all the way into her core. “They will take what they want,” her teeth grind against the t, “kill who they want.” There’s a flash in her mind of her mother, knife slipping between her ribs as she cries out in pain. Izzy clenches her fists once more, pushing them to either side of her thighs against the couch. “They corrupt whoever they like and care not for who they hurt.”

And I’ll take down every last one of them.

She’s seething now, nails digging into her own palms to keep her from smashing them against something, like the face of the person before her.

“Is that enough?” she asks, again through gritted teeth, but she doesn’t wait for an answer and instead rises from her seat. “Great.” She snaps, walking across the living room and opening the front door to her apartment.

“Leave.”

Head: 1 Heart: 2

Extras:

Pinterest Mockblog

HEADCANONS:

— ASTROLOGY: Born March 24th, Izzy is an Aries. +Element: fire - quite emotional and compassionate to a fault, always giving far more than they receive if for no other reason than to remain loyal to those emotions. + Ruler: mars - an animalistic nature, it calls to their impetuous tendencies, inciting rage and destruction at the drop of a hat. + Color(s): red - vibrant and attention-seeking, it’s rare that they don it but are instead often drawn to its excitement and promise of adventure.

— STRENGTHS: audacious, determined, self-assured, ardent, creative, insightful, altruistic, honest.

— WEAKNESSES: impatient, sensitive, moody, short-tempered, perfectionistic, impulsive, contentious.

— MBTI: INFJ, the advocate - takes great happiness from helping people, spends the time to get to the root of issues and work through them, sees a world full of inequity but knows it doesn’t have to be that way, and truly believes a little help can go a long way, but sometimes they forget to care for themselves and overcorrect for certain causes which puts them in jeopardy, though they write it off as having been worth it all in the end if progress was made.

— ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral, the judge - their mother, the basis of their entire moral compass, taught them right from wrong and shaped their entire view of the world with just a few kind acts. Feeding the homeless was something they did every Sunday afternoon together, mother and daughter each with smiles upon their face, filled with joy at the simple act of helping. But it wasn’t until they watched the very woman who gave them life fight tooth and nail, time and time again for those less fortunate than them. Their mother would have offered a stranger on the street the clothes off her back and the shoes on her feet if she felt it would improve their life. She was generous and kind and expected nothing in return for all her good deeds. It taught Izzy how to love, this ever apparent generosity present throughout their youth, and as they aged, they did so with their whole heart. They dove head first into philanthropy the moment they left Spain, using their knack for words to shine a light on the injustices of the world in hopes of making a real change. And they have no intent on stopping within Verona. They’ll burn the whole city down if it means it’ll return, but this time just and pure of heart.

— GENDER/SEXUALITY: Izzy, while not a fan of labels at all and if forced, identifies as a demigirl and prefers she/her and they/them pronouns. Femininity has never been something they’ve felt terribly attached to, nor do they shy away from what society would deem as ‘for women’, but there’s always been a bit of a disconnect from it. It’s a sore subject if pressed, causing Izzy immense stress when brought up. Memories of their stepmother spewing hate for every little thing about them flood their mind and tears swell in their eyes from the echo of rejection for simply being themself. / They’d call themselves a lover of everyone, if they’re being honest. At least ten times a day they turn smitten in an instant! With just one glance from a handsome stockbroker who held the door for them at a cafe. A coy smile from a waitress at Hotel Emelia can send them into a giggling fit, cheeks flushing a rosy red. They’re a biromantic, through and through, enjoying — indulging in whoever’s holding their heart in their palm for the moment, regardless of their gender. But for them to give themselves to you, it needs to mean something. It has to matter. Izzy is smart; they know their heart is fickle, and while most days it rules their choices, those welcome in their bed must earn it first. Some would call them a slut, if they were lacking character and down to their two brain cells. Most call them a tease, leaving a trail of kisses in their indecisive wake. But Izzy knows themself to be demisexual, and in need of a strong emotional bond before spreading their legs.

— CELESTE: It defies logic, how much Izzy loves her. All normal, rational thought evades her whenever the girl is near. The fact that she remains, to this day, a part of one of the very organizations Izzy is bound and determined to take down seemingly makes no difference. Not when her heart practically sings in the face of Celeste Duval. It’s assuredly unnatural, of which the two have discussed at length. She’s married, after all and that fact seems to evade her lover’s mind as well. Perhaps that’s what makes it exciting, but it’s also what makes it that much more stressful. Izzy is in constant battle with herself when it comes to Celeste. It’s as if each time they’re apart, she formulates a plan to sever the bond for the good of the both of them, but the moment she lays eyes on Celeste, she can’t think. She can only feel. And what she feels is so much stronger than any argument her brain could muster. But is Izzy willing to sacrifice everything for her? Deep down she knows the answer and deep down she hates herself for it.

— NIKOLAI: He’s so handsome, of this she’s positive simply because of the way his smile causes her heart to race. To say she fell in love with him the first moment they met would be entirely accurate, for he knew exactly what to say to tug at her weaknesses. By far one of her worst qualities, she wears her heart on her sleeve, like an open wound laid bare for anyone to rub salt in. Though deep down, she always hopes it’ll be sugar. She always wants to believe the best in people, and certainly the same goes for Nik. He was so earnest during their first talks, so generous with his information and sympathetic to her cause, to her fight for justice within the bloodied streets of Verona. She barely had time to check on him, to look him up and sink her teeth into his past like any good journalist would. If she isn’t careful, he could expose her entire plot, but damn if he doesn’t have the deepest of sea blue eyes. And each time he’s near, all careful planning and hard earned wisdom Izzy has gathered fades away in favor of going for a swim.

— DELILAH: It breaks her heart to see a good woman silenced, especially when she’s been falsely promised so much. The Capulets appease her doubts over and over, each time she dares to break her silence if but just for a moment; but Izzy can see the storm behind her eyes, if only Delilah would let the floodgates flow open. With the whisper of a few secrets and a pen put to paper, the entire underbelly of Verona could rest in the palm of their hands. All she needs is a little push. And Izzy has every intention of doing so, no matter what.

#accepted #accepted: imogen

4 notes · View notes

mermaidsirennikita · 6 years

Text

April 2018 Book Roundup

In April, I read silly books and I read books that were deadly (literally) serious. It’s possible that the most well-written book I read was Madeline Miller’s Circe, which I loved and found much more satisfying than Song of Achilles. But the most enjoyable book? It was Laura Thalassa’s Pestilence, the romance novel about a girl, an apocalypse, and a sexy horseman who spreads disease. What more could you want?

Pestilence by Laura Thalassa. 4/5. When the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse show up, all technology fails, sending the world into chaos. Then they disappear. Five years later, Pestilence has reappeared, and wherever he goes a plague kills everyone in his path. Sara, an ex-firefighter, has been sent to kill him. When that fails? She becomes his prisoner--with Pestilence claiming that he’s keeping her alive to make her suffer. Of course, that’s not what’s really going on, and yes, this is a full-blown romance novel. It’s also one of the most enjoyable books I’ve read all year thus far. Sara and Pestilence’s romance is ridiculous, engrossing, hilarious, and yes, pretty sexy. One thing I loved about this book is that while Pestilence is in his very nature a conqueror and pretty much a living plague--he’s also very boyish and inexperienced and the book makes that inexperience very sexy. Because Sara’s experienced. Sara is sarcastic, foul-mouthed, and pretty sexual; and very rarely do you come across a romance novel that lacks a serious alpha male. Like, yes, Pestilence has his dominant moments, but overall he’s more like... sorta hapless. I mean, spoiler alert, they have sex, what a shocker, and when Sara is annoyed that he’s not being more chill about it he’s like “I GAVE YOU MY ESSENCE SARA~~~~”. It’s one of those books. I loved it.

I Was Anastasia by Ariel Lawhon. 3/5. Anna Anderson was famous for pretending to be famous--after an attempted suicide, she claimed to be Anastasia Romanov, and was so convincing that people who met and were related to the grand duchess backed her. “I Was Anastasia” explores Anna’s life--backwards. Meanwhile, the story of Anastasia Romanov is told moving forward. Somewhere, they meet in the middle, as does the truth. In a basic way, this is a good historical fiction novel. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel. The thing is that if you know anything about Anastasia, you know about Anna; there aren’t any twists to be had. What kept this from being a four-star read, aside from the fact that it was a bit expected, was one thing concerning the grand duchesses that is pretty debatable from what I understand, and--I’m not sure it was necessary. But if you’re into the Romanovs, you may want to check this out.

Lady Killers: Deadly Women Throughout History by Tori Telfer. 4/5. A collection of write-ups on female serial killers. What sets this book apart is that, aside from Erszebet Bathory and Nannie Doss (as well as the Benders, vaguely) I really hadn’t heard about most of these women. Telfer steered clear of discussing extremely obvious women like Aileen Wuornos, instead focusing on cases that largely took place before the second half of the twentieth century, with one murderess dating back to the thirteenth century. Of course, this means that there was often more speculation and less hard evidence, but for most of these women I think there was a pretty good case to be made that SOMETHING was going on, even if it wasn’t as salacious as some might believe. And Telfer doesn’t just stick to typical American and European women, either--she touches about the Egyptian sisters Raya and Sakina, famous for killing a remarkable number of women, and Oum El-Hassen, a Moroccan murderess whose motives remain a mystery to this day. More than a profiling of these individuals, however, I’d call this book an analysis of how we interpret female serial killers culturally. Why don’t we take them as seriously as we do male serial killers? Why do paint them, often, as more sexual than truly frightening? Telfer doesn’t shy away from the gory details and while you might feel some empathy for these women, she doesn’t hesitate to report that some were very likely psychopaths, with no remorse--but then, that doesn’t take away from the fact that some were poor, some were abused, and some didn’t really see any better options for themselves. The Angel Makers of Nagyrev--not one murderess but a group of Hungarian village women who, over fifteen years, killed around 300 people for a variety of reasons--were particularly interesting and kind of heartbreaking. Highly recommend.

Tangerine by Christine Mangan. 2/5. In 1956, Alice goes to Tangiers with her new husband--a man she barely knows--John. Haunted by an event that happened while she was at school--an event she barely remembers--Alice struggles with anxiety and paranoia, and can’t adjust to the strange world of Morocco. However, her past catches up to her in the form of Lucy, her old school friend. This is essentially a 40s/50s film noir/psychological thriller movie a la Hitchcock in book form. Unfortunately, while I feel it would have worked as a movie of that style and era, the writing wasn’t attention-grabbing. Pretty, but a bit dull. I couldn’t tell much of a difference between the voices of Lucy and Alice, though they alternated, and the “twist”... I don’t need a twist in my thrillers--a real one, that is--but if there is going to be one it should be decent. This was fairly pedestrian. A missed opportunity, especially painful because the authorb describes Morocco so well.

Indecent by Corrine Sullivan. 3/5. Imogene has always envied the rich kids who went to elite boarding schools. Now a grown woman, she becomes a teacher’s assistant of sorts at a fancy prep school for boys--only to find herself attracted to one of the students. This is not an easy read. If anyone reads it and believes that Imogene’s victim--because horny seventeen year old boy or not, he is that--was the bad person here, nah. I don’t think Sullivan intends it that way at all. Imogene is a study of a predator who became that way through insecurity and arrested development. She thinks like a teenager. She constantly critiques herself--her body, her relative lack of sexual experience. She compares herself to teenage girls, for God’s sake, and is all impressed by a seventeen year old boy’s “experience” and “charisma”. By being in Imogene’s mind... You get how a predator becomes a predator. Some aren’t born that way, and the line between a woman in her early twenties and a boy in his late teens COULD conceivably get blurred--but it’s always the adult’s fault, and this book doesn’t shy away from that. I wouldn’t say it was a fun read, but it was interesting.

The Day of the Duchess by Sarah MacLean. 3/5. Malcolm, the Duke of Haven (yes) has a problem. He needs an heir--but to have an heir, he first needs a wife. Actually, he has one; but Seraphina, the title-chaser who “trapped” him into marriage left nearly three years ago. Now she’s shown up asking for a divorce, which isn’t all that easy to get. Malcolm makes her a deal: if she helps choose his next wife, he’ll grant her the divorce. Of course, Malcolm would far rather keep Seraphina around than have her select her replacement... so his real plan is to woo her into staying with him. This was a pleasant, enjoyable read that varied from the typical romance novel in that the hero has done a genuinely bad thing--not just a mildly upsetting thing--and there are very strong problems in the marriage. Malcolm and Sera are both pretty wounded by what they’ve done to each other and one major thing neither one of them could have really helped. The angst was real. And the sex scenes were good--lots of emphasis on female gratification in this one. But parts of the story were kind of like... too much comic relief for a novel with the kind of backstory this one has. I’m not saying it had to be a serious story AT ALL, but Sera has this chorus of sisters and I liked them at first but it become... too much. However, I’d still call it a solid historical romance.

Circe by Madeline Miller. 5/5. Known as the witch who turned Odysseus’s men into pigs before capitulating to his charms and will, Circe is a character who was present for or linked to some of the most interesting parts of Greek mythology. Here she gets her own epic, beginning with her birth as the nymph-goddess daughter of Helios. Eventually exiled to an island, far from the other gods, Circe encounters everything from sailors to fellow witches and kings, and even monsters. This is a literary fantasy, the writing as beautiful as it was in Song of Achilles, but dealing with a story much more dynamic and interesting. Circe is a character who is at times deeply caring while not losing her selfish and destructive streaks. She has reasons for her behavior, but she isn’t declawed in the least. Miller tells the more horrifying parts of her story with taste, and at times, humor; but you never lose the sense of the epic in this novel.

The Queens of Innis Lear by Tessa Gratton. 4/5. As the king of Innis Lear ages, his obsession with the stars and prophecy leave his kingdom in a perilous position. Drawing together his three daughters--the warlike Gaela, manipulative and child-starved Regan, and the favorite, Elia--Lear promises that he will name his heir. But no matter who he chooses, the sisters are prepared to go to war for the crown, and for the fate of Innis Lear. Obviously, this is a retelling of King Lear--Gratton evidently found the initial portrayal of Lear’s daughters lacking, and really takes that to task here. And to be sure, Gaela, Regan, and Elia have far more depths than the women in the original play. But the fact is that I could have done with more of them, and less of the perspective of others. When the story is with the sisters, it’s enthralling. But often, there’s the perspective of Ban, a pivotal character--an embittered bastard with remarkable power--but perhaps not the most compelling voice. Then there’s the fool’s daughter Aefa, Ban’s mother Brona, the sisters’ uncle, and more. Gratton also often delves into the past, revealing plot points but more than that developing the characters. Which is good. None of what is in this book is bad, really, but it’s held back from being as good as it could be by too much of the less important stuff. For example--Gaela and Regan have a very compelling, codependent relationship. Gaela is driven to be king, and Regan has sworn to support her no matter what and have children that will be Gaela’s heirs. The problem being, of course, that despite the fact that she’s the only one of the sisters in a loving relationship, Regan seems incapable of bearing a living child. The differing struggles of Gaela and Regan are amazing, and deserved more pagetime. With that being said, this is a super compelling story, and worth checking out.

I’ll Be Gone in the Dark by Michelle McNamara. 4/5. Michelle McNamara, as many know, died in the middle of writing her exhaustive book on the Golden State Killer--a title she coined. Obviously, the killer has since been caught, but he wasn’t when Michelle was researching. The result is a gripping, incredibly well-done book on a monster. It reminds me somewhat of In Cold Blood, but without the closeness to the killer--less sympathy, more drive to find and punish him. McNamara was up front about her own flaws, with the book itself highlighting her obsessive nature. But ultimately, the only thing I can really critique about her work is beyond her control; it is somewhat disjointed, as friends had to piece the book together after she died. However, it’s a remarkable example of true crime lit.

#book roundup #books #book recs

18 notes · View notes

onestowatch · 3 years

Text

Allison Ponthier, the Most Authentic NYC Cowboy Is Hitting the Road [Q&A]

Photo: Julian Buchan

Allison Ponthier is the epitome of transparent authenticity and delicate creativity. With an allegiance to genuine storytelling and sincere vulnerability, Allison has transformed her coming-of-age dramas into consumable and engaging tracks. The approachable nature of her soft tone warmly invites audiences in while her charismatic metaphors create a witty sense of individualized connection.

Exploring themes of sexuality, age, and her fascination with the concept of death, Allison’s debut EP, Faking My Own Death, saw her brilliantly contrasting the darker essence of her lines with humor and alluring anecdotes. We had the chance to speak to the New York cowboy about the concept of death, the therapeutic nature of songwriting, and plenty more ahead of her tour with Lord Huron.

youtube

Ones To Watch: First and foremost, how are you today?

Allison Ponthier: I’m good. I am getting my entire life ready to go on the road in September and I’m having kind of a cute weekday. It’s very normal.

You once said, “A lot of my songs are about being uncomfortable in your own skin but getting to know yourself better.” What is it about songwriting that challenges you?

I had written one-off songs for school projects and stuff growing up, but I really didn’t start writing until I was 18 or 19. I saw a very specific trend in my early songs, now that I’m looking back, hindsight is 20/20, where I just refused to talk about anything that was difficult. I think I wrote a lot of songs about what I thought would sound cool… and even if I was talking about something I was going through, I put it through this super vague lens. It wasn’t until I started writing for my current project that I really became obsessed with vulnerable writing. It’s actually really instrumental in how I heal from a lot of stuff now.

But I think what’s unique to songwriting specifically is that it begs the question, “OK, but what do you really mean?” It’s not like you’re just saying everything off the top of your head, you have to think about the deeper meaning and how everything is connected. You do have the opportunity to talk about things in a way that you wouldn’t normally talk about them. You can go deeper by using metaphors or connecting dots that just exercise different muscles in your brain, and I think for me, that’s been one of the best ways, in addition to therapy, of how I can process a lot of the things that I’ve gone through or have been uncomfortable to process before.

You’re quite openly fascinated by the concept of death. What about death makes you feel so alive, and does exploring it give you comfort?

So, I have always been kind of fascinated with death… I didn’t watch my first scary movie, and I didn’t see anything that was scary until I was a teenager. When I was younger, I used to be really resentful of that because I wanted to be cool like everyone else… but I was very sheltered growing up. But now, I actually really appreciate it. I think a lot of people experience death, not through experience, which I think is a huge privilege, but a lot of people experience death through scary things, like scary movies and scary stories before they mature. And for me growing up, the way that I kind of thought about death was through the lens of my mom. My mom lost her dad when she was really, really young, so she made a point to go to cemeteries and not think that they are scary… [I] actually think it's really beautiful and a place for people to heal. I think she always wanted me to feel connected to people even after they’ve passed away. I really, really appreciate her for that.

In addition to that, I think that now in the year 2021, we have a lot of answers to all of our questions at the tip of our fingers, online. We know a lot about the world and yet, we know so little about death and we know so little about what happens after death. I think that is what is exciting to me, because I don’t know if I believe in ghosts, I don’t know if I believe in magic or anything like that, but I think death and what happens after death is kind of the closest thing to magic in the real world. I try to make it not super dark or scary.

Well, I love your perspective…

I will add one more thing… I did have an experience recently where I went to Hollywood Forever Cemetery, and I think for a long time, my feelings were that after someone dies, does it really matter how we remember them? I mean, it kind of matters to their close family, but I think I was really cynical about death for a long time. But at Hollywood Forever Cemetery, where I took a tour, the person there cared so much about the history of each person they were talking about and wanted to keep their memory alive so much that I now understand why it’s so important to keep people’s memories alive and to honor people… even if it’s not for a family, everyone deserves to be remembered. Everyone deserves to stay alive through their stories, so… I don’t know. Hollywood Forever Cemetery totally got me re-interested in death and remembering people and honoring people after they’ve passed.

youtube

There’s so much emotional and sonic depth to be found in your music, how do you plan on bringing that to life on tour?

This is going to be my first experience ever touring. That being said, I have been performing a lot of these songs, not in a touring space but performing them. I think the way that I like to bring intimacy or depth to a set is to just talk to people. I really think it’s great to just talk to people and engage with people like I would be talking to anyone else.

The songs are with a live band and the EP that I made is with live instruments to make it really classic sounding. I think the energy of playing with a live band and playing old school, like ‘70s style, is what I’m really interested in so hopefully the people that listen to my music are really into [it]. I personally think it will just be really emotional in general, because this is such a huge experience for me. I’ve never done these songs for a lot of other people at once, and I think that feeling the energy, from other people, not just on the other side of a screen, but right in front of me, is going to be amazing. I have not had the privilege of sharing these songs with people in real-time, in this way.

A lot of your music is rooted in feeling out of place within yourself, which gives it a sense of coming-of-age. So in terms of touring, have you always felt at home on stage, or has it been something you’re growing into?

I think I was actually very terrified to be on stage for a long time. I was really, really shy growing up, so I think a lot of my first memories of performing were my mom making me sing for friends and family coming over. I only knew one song, which was “God Bless America,” so I would just sing “God Bless America” all the time. But I was really shy as a kid, so even when I did start songwriting, I didn’t think I would be an artist. I thought I would just be a songwriter. I still love writing songs for other people, but the main reason I didn’t want to be an artist had to do with me being afraid to put myself out there. I feel like now is the perfect time for me to go on tour, because before, I don’t think I was ready for it.

That being said, now, because I’m an artist and I have a lot of new things to do all the time, it makes me less scared to do other things that are new. Like being an artist, and making this EP specifically, has really helped my self-confidence… Almost like therapy level, it’s helped my self-confidence and my self-esteem. So, we’ll see what happens!

It’s wonderful to hear that you’ve taken your time and really grown into this role intentionally…

Absolutely, 100 percent. Like, I’m 25 years old, which to me, I feel like a baby, still. But, I think to people that are younger than me, they are like, “Oh! Someone who should have everything together…” To me, it will always feel like you’re doing everything for the first time your whole life because you only really get to live one life. I personally think that tour is going to be a great time, we’ve planned a lot of fun stuff. The reality is, it’s a huge tour that I get to go on with some of my closest friends, and I want to have an amazing time connecting with people.

Who is your biggest music inspiration and why?

This is so hard because I feel like I have quite a few. I grew up listening to Regina Spektor and Imogen Heap, like a lot. I didn’t listen to them as much when I became an adult, but now, as an artist, I’m realizing just how much they have influenced me. I think Regina Spektor tells a lot of stories in her music, and she isn’t afraid to get a little weird with it. I think that that is something that really inspires me now with the kind of songs that I write. Imogen Heap was the first artist I ever really, really got into, and I think she’s very similar. She is not afraid to make the kind of music she makes, even if it is not the kind of music everyone listens to. And then, I’ll throw in one more… I loved Paramore growing up. And yes, Hayley Williams was a pop-punk queen, but she was also a Nashville songwriter at the end of the day. I don’t know if a lot of people put weight on the songwriting part of Paramore, the live shows are so incredible, but she is one of the most influential and biggest songwriters I look up to.

So, a lot of your music uses geographical or location-based metaphors, so I was wondering where is it that you feel most at home?

You know, that’s so interesting. I often think about this a lot, where I don’t really feel like I have a specific home. I moved around a lot, I was in Texas, but I moved around a lot when I was in Texas. Then I went to college, and I moved around a lot after that. I’ve lived in like a million different apartments. I think where I feel most at home are two places. One, when I’m with my girlfriend. I’ve been seeing her for four years now, and at this point, she’s like my family. I know I can count on her and I know no matter what happens, she’s going to be there for me. And then, I also feel at home when I’m doing something with my team… which I know sounds like a canned response but I’m really, really close with my management, I’m really close with the people from my label, and when we’re all working on something together, I’m just like, “Woah… these people feel like my family.” I think chosen family is really important to me and those are some of the people that I know, if something happened, I could immediately call them. I don’t know if home ever feels like a place, but it definitely feels like people.

So, relating back to your fascination with death. If you could pick one record that by listening to it, would save everybody’s soul, what would it be?

Oh my god… low stakes questions, whatever… Oh my god! To save everyone’s souls? That’s a really, really good question. I have to think about what’s a front-to-back album that I really love. I really love John Prine, so maybe John Prine. Um, but let me think. I have a few answers. I mean, I really love The Color In Anything by James Blake. It’s really beautiful and it’s about depression. I think that James Blake is such an incredible artist because he is really vulnerable. He was very cool when he first came out and now I think he’s been very, very good at being more personal and talking about harder things, so I really love that. Man, this is such a hard question… I love it!

Oh! No, no, no. I know my answer now. The Idler Wheel… by Fiona Apple. I love that album so much. When I first heard it, I was like, “I don’t know if this is for me,” and now it’s probably my favorite album of all time. The Idler Wheel is so beautiful. It has “Werewolf,” which has one of my favorite lines ever written in history, ‘I could liken you to a werewolf, the way you left me for dead, but I admit that I provided a full moon.’ Which is so good. It goes through the full gamut of emotion and my absolute favorite song on it is “Every Single Night.” ‘Every Single Night’ has this part where she sings, “I just want to feel everything,” over and over and over again. It’s the most vulnerable and beautiful song I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

Is there anything else that you’d like to say, anything you’d like to put out into the world?

Oh, wow! I think for me, the reason that I made this past EP is because I wanted to talk about my relationship with myself, and I think that other people relating to it has been a really happy accident. But one thing that I really want to stress is that progress is not as simple as just talking about it, or progress is not as simple as just wanting progress to be made. It really is a journey, and it’s not linear. Sometimes you have good days and sometimes you have bad days, and to know yourself, you also have to know your bad qualities. So, I know that a lot of people talk about loving yourself, like full-stop, and I think it’s really important to love yourself, but I also think it’s important to know yourself and accept yourself despite your thorns and learning to overcome them. I think that, for me, making music that is revealing is kind of taking my power back. I’m always stressed about how people perceive me, and how I come off, and I hope that I can keep doing that with my music. That’s just something I really wanted to stress, so thank you for letting me say it.

#allison ponthier #interview #singer songwriter #folk #pop #faking my own death

1 note · View note

wen-kexing-apologist · 6 years

Text

Five Times Maryse Lightwood Realized She Was Wrong (And the One Time She Admitted It)

Read on AO3

3- In the Doorway

Maryse Lightwood and 'The Time She Went to Tell Alec to Get Some Sleep But Found Magnus There Already Doing It For Her'

or 'The 100000000000000000000000000th time that Malec was cute'

______

Alec had thrown himself into everything he did with as much energy and enthusiasm as he possibly could. It was what he had been trained to do, since he was a child. And becoming Head of the Institute was no different.

He had taken over at the worst possible time, Maryse Lightwood knew this, and she hated Imogen Herondale for it. For making every effort she could to throw her son under the bus, to let him taste his future, before she ripped it from his hands.

But Alec was not one to let himself fail, and she was proud, knowing that he was doing everything in his power to prevent Imogen from having any excuse to replace him. Alec was smart; Alec knew that he above all others had to be the perfect leader.

It was why Maryse Lightwood was on her way to Alec’s office at this very moment. Because Valentine had been recently imprisoned in the Institute’s basement. And she knew there was much still that Alec had to do to make sure that he stayed there. To make sure he could settle the stirrings of a Downworlder uprising that Imogen and the Clave had created, but had somehow become Alec’s responsibility to stop. Maryse Lightwood knew her son well, and she knew that it had probably been two days since he had slept.

She was going to make sure he learned how to take a break before he worked himself to an early grave.

Decades of Shadowhunting had taught Maryse how to stay silent in stilettos, and the training kicked in the minute she heard voices coming from Alec’s office.

“Darling, I’m serious,”

“So am I. I’m fine, I don’t need to sleep.”

What was Magnus Bane doing at the Institute at two o’clock in the morning? Maryse asked herself as she peeked around the corner of the doorframe.

Alec was sitting at his desk, his chair spun around to face Magnus, hand still hovering over the tablet in which he stored his documents. His elbow resting on the stack of files he still had to finish signing.

“You haven’t slept in two days, and stamina runes can only keep you going for so long.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Because you’re running on pure adrenaline.”

“I am not.”

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood, do not give me that bullshit,” Magnus chastised, pointing a single ringed finger at Alec, who frowned in shock. Maryse bit back a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand at the thought that Magnus Bane was feeding Alec the same spiel she would have given him. That there could be so much love and care in his voice, and so little room for argument. And maybe it was the fact that she had seen Magnus with Alec a few times before, that she no longer found herself surprised that Magnus could find exactly the right tone to make sure Alec was paying attention.

Magnus dropped his hand, he softened his posture, he ran a hand through Alec’s hair. “I know that you are under a lot of pressure to do everything perfectly. I know how scared you are of losing the only thing you’ve dreamed about your entire life because you’re dating me.”

“This isn’t your fault, Magnus,” Alec replied automatically, as if it were something he had learned how to say on autopilot.

“Well, regardless, I know how important this is to you, being Head of the Institute, and you know as well as I do that you are a phenomenal leader. You deserve this, Alec, you deserve every minute of leadership. You will do great things for the Shadow World. You’re doing everything you can to make a positive change, and I am so unbelievably proud of everything you’ve done to try to bridge the divide between Shadowhunters and Downworlders. But, angel,” Magnus tucked a strand of hair behind Alec’s ear, and kept his hand resting on Alec’s cheek. Alec pressed a brief kiss to Magnus’ palm. “Good leaders make smart decisions, and you can’t make smart decisions if you are exhausted.”

Alec sunk back in his chair, and Maryse could tell this was hitting too close for comfort with Alec.

“I know you know this,” Magnus pressed. “You aren’t going to be very helpful to anyone if you are too tired to focus, or if you drop in the middle of combat because you don’t have the energy to stand up. Alexander,” Magnus paused for a second, taking the opportunity to sit in Alec’s lap. Alec’s arms automatically going from where they sat on his paperwork to wrap themselves around Magnus’ body. And Maryse thought for a moment that for some reason it looked like the most natural thing in the world. Alec and Magnus, together. How had she not believed it before?

“The first step to being a good leader, is taking good care of yourself,” Magnus continued. “Valentine is in a cell downstairs, I am back in my own body.” Alec pressed their foreheads together at that. “The world is not going to end just because you let yourself take a break for a few hours and let your body rest,” Magnus said as he kissed Alec quickly before jumping off his lap and holding out a hand in offering. “Besides you don’t even have to leave the office. You can just sleep on the couch. God knows it’s more comfortable than your actual bed, and anyone who sees you will think you are the hardest worker they’ve ever come across…which is true anyway.”

“I don’t have a pillow,” Alec crossed his arms over his chest, a challenging smirk on his face.

“Alexander, do you so easily forget that you have a magical boyfriend who can summon you a pillow? Or, an incredibly handsome boyfriend with a lap that is perfect for laying your head in?”

“Well if I had known that offer was on the table I would have gone to bed much earlier,” Alec smiled, grabbing Magnus’ hand and allowing himself to be pulled out of his chair.

Magnus embraced Alec for a moment, kissing his forehead. “Let’s give that beautiful brain of yours a chance to rest.” They walked hand in hand to the black leather couch, Magnus taking time to sit before guiding Alec down after him. Alec curled on his side almost immediately upon laying down. A yawn contorting his face. Magnus smiled to himself, a small smile, a private one, one of uncontainable bliss. Something meant for no one but himself. A smile that Alec was completely oblivious to. Magnus twisted around to grab the blanket that was hanging off the edge of the couch. He splayed it carefully over Alec’s body. One hand entangling itself in the dark black strands of Alec’s hair, playing with it absentmindedly.

Alec hummed happily, reaching out with one hand to take Magnus’ free one. Magnus took it readily, drawing circles on Alec’s skin.

“I love you,” Alec murmured, sighing contentedly, as he snuggled deeper into Magnus’ lap, as if he had found safety in it.

“I love you, too,” Magnus replied.

And it was something Maryse believed whole-heartedly. She could see it now, she could see how good they were for each other, could see the way Alec’s confidence had grown under Magnus’ careful care. How Magnus had seemed happier too, in the brief moments she had seen him. How there was a new light in his eyes, how he was much more tolerable when it came to matters of business. How much he cared about Alec, about a Shadowhunter, a Lightwood no less. And what had she been doing trying to convince herself of anything else? Magnus would not break Alec’s heart. Magnus and Alec loved each other. And maybe, maybe Alec had started to show her that it was okay to find love in the arms of a Downworlder. That maybe it wasn’t so wrong, that maybe it was time to get over her bias, and her prejudice. To admit when she wrong.

She looked back at them once more, at the sound of Alec’s gentle snores, and nearly jumped in shock when her eyes met Magnus’ brown ones. He sent her a small smile; how long had he known she was here? How long did he know she had been spying on them? She could feel the slow pooling of heat in her cheeks, blush a too obvious sign of her embarrassment at being caught. She forced a small nod, the best approval she could think of in the moment, before turning on her heel and fleeing into the comfortable darkness of her own room.

#malec #malec fic #malec fanfiction #sh #sh fic #sh fanfiction #shadowhunters #shadowhunters fic #shadowhunters fanfiction #maryse lightwood #maryse lightwood fic #maryse lightwood fanfiction #magnus bane #alec lightwood #alexander lightwood #maryse lightwood redemption #MyFics #MalecsMama #lightwood family

118 notes · View notes

miragemeister · 6 years

Text

Thirty Questions

I was tagged by the lovely @beanieboynoah . Thank you so much, Julia 💖

Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag a few blogs you would like to get to know better.

Nickname(s): Sab, Sabby, Sabribri, Bina, and a bunch of whole other nicknames (either more variants of my name or teasing nicknames that refer to stupid, embarrassing things I’ve done)

Gender: Female

Sign: ♒️

Height: 5′6″

Time: 5:05 pm.

Fave band(s): oh geez, right off the top of my head: Mariana’s Trench, Imagine Dragons, Prinze George, 21 Pilots, One Republic, Fallout Boy, Secondhand Serenade, Linkin Park, Evanescence (the last three were more of my favorites in middle school but I still love to listen to their music as throwbacks)

Fave solo artist(s): Sia, Marina and the Diamonds, Maria Mena, Hailee Steinfeld, Kelly Clarkson, Imogen Heap, Troye Sivan (and a lot more that I can’t think of at the moment)

Song stuck in my head: Dusk till Dawn (Zayn ft. Sia)

Last movie I saw: F*&% the Prom 🤢 (I swear, the things I do for my sister. No offense for those who liked it, but I personally hated the plot, the characters, and how unrealistic it was)

Last show I watched: Riverdale 😬 (Also something I’ve been watching only with my sister, but tbh Riverdale S2 is a bit of a hot mess)

When did I create my blog: late December but I didn’t really upload until early to mid January.

What do I post: Choices shitposts, reblogs galore, some theories, the occasional fanfics, literally two incorrect choices quotes, and gifs.

Last thing I googled: Nearest bubble tea places near me 😅 (I am literally OBSESSED with bubble tea)

Do I have any other blogs: Nope!

Do I get asks: Occasionally, but not as many as I would like! Feel free to ask me more (Choices, personal, or whatever. I swear I’m not mean!)

Why did I chose my URL: I made up a username a while back in middle school and I honestly just default to it all the time bc I’m lazy as hell to come up with a cooler one/ I don’t think I”m capable of making a cooler or more meaningful name.

Following: 10 blogs (RIP someone please recommend me good, nonproblematic Choices blogs bc I forgot to ask when I first started)

Followed by: 144 followers?! Oh wow, I love you all ❤️️💖💕

Average hours of sleep: I have insomnia so I’m often up late at night and then crashing at odd hours throughout the day. It’s hard to say, but I think it ranges between 3 to 6 hours, but typically more in the 4 to 5 range?

Lucky number: lol not a lucky person in general so I don’t really have a lucky number. I do like 6, 7, and 16 though?

Instruments: I’ve been playing piano for TEN years bc my parents had to be stereotypically Asian.

What am I wearing: My pajamas and what my family teasingly calls my Hugh Hefner robe.

Dream job: fHahah, I have no idea what I want to do with my life, but if this is non-realistic, I would love to be paid to do fun activities or other things that I love like playing games, eating, or traveling (lol my lazy behavior shining through rn)

Dream trip: Traveling around the whole world in a cruise! I’ll have to admit that was the only part of RoE that I liked- the concept of being in a large group that gave you planned activities and fine dining while also traveling around to see and experience different cultures.

Fave food: I’m in love with desserts. I have a MAJOR sweet tooth, and if my friends ever lose me at an all-you-can-eat buffet, you can bet that they’d find me at the dessert section (or alternatively, seafood). You want me to do something? Offer me chocolates and I’ll give you my soul lol. If we’re talking about specific cuisines though, I love Asian (Vietnamese, Chinese, Thai, Korean, Japanese), Italian, French, and American (bc I can’t resist french fries, burgers, and milk shakes)

Nationality: [Vietnamese] American

Fave song: Uh…I have no idea. I obssess over some songs and replay them over and over and then I don’t listen to them for awhile.

Last book I read: The Cruel Prince by Holly Black.

Favorite genre(s): Fantasy, Sci-fi, Dystopian, and I have a soft spot for romantic comedies.

Top three fictional universes I want to join: Harry Potter, DC Universe (not the movies though lol) or really any setting with established superpowers and vigilantes, and uhhmmm…idk, a lot of the fictional universes I can think of right now are dystopian so…no.

I’d honestly like to get to know a lot of blogs better so this is really for anyone who’d like to do this, but I’ll also specifically tag @stayfallentastic @zahranamazis , @itlivesontheinternet , @h-artfeld, @emmahawkins, and @lahuertasprincess . If you’ve done this before or aren’t interested in doing this, feel free to ignore, but I look forward to seeing everyone’s answers!

#tag game

7 notes · View notes

enchanted-prose · 4 years

Text

Daisy Chains

I can’t contribute anything to the fandom except for writing! Here’s my first contribution for something I’m going to call Fic Friday. I solemnly swear to drop a fic or drabble from 200-6,000 words every Friday! (drop comments because I live for attention?)

Title: Daisy Chains

Word Count: 2,000

Features: Mott, Jaron, Amarinda, Tobias, Roden, and Imogen, as well as a few ocs and an introduction for a larger project I’m working on.

No editing, we die like men.

The day was warm.

Birds chirped, and for the first time in a long time, the trees all bore their leaves. Everything was alive. Buzzing with a lazy energy.

The Roving River moved eerily slowly, slugging through the broken forest just outside of Drylliad castle. It would be years before the forest surrounding the castle healed from the wounds of war. But after two years, the environment was making great effort to return to normalcy.

But normalcy was still years away.

Repercussions from the Avenian War still rattled the government and population of Carthya. In Avenia, the people were struggling to survive. Bymar was facing severe social unrest.

At least Gelyn was still swindling people out of their fortunes, like they always did.

On the bank of the river lay a large, quilted blanket. A basket of food stood in the middle of a group of young people.

And there was laughter.

Smiles despite the haunted look each person tried to hide.

"Still can't believe you managed to drink an entire barrel full of mead," Tobias shook his head. "Roden, there's been an ongoing study about fermented beverages leading to an early death."

Roden Harlowe, the charming captain of Carthya's royal guard, smirked, "I'm bound to die anyways, may as well die from something I like."

"That's not-"

"Careful Tobias, you might trick people into thinking we're friends."

"Shut up."

A wave of snickers rippled through Tobias, Roden, and the rest of King Jaron's inner circle.

Jaron himself had demanded that he and the inner circle take the afternoon off. They all deserved it. Each one had been working nonstop to ensure domestic peace, and others had been grappling with diplomatic responsibilities.

The rules for the afternoon were simple: Under no circumstances was anybody allowed to bring up anything that had to do with the kingdom.

Or other kingdoms.

Or anything sad at all.

"I feel like you should push Roden to his limits," snipped Amarinda, the princess and ambassador of Bymar. "If he can drain an entire barrel, why not see if he can do two?"

"Now that's a wager I'll get behind," Roden said. He settled on his back, clasping his hands behind his head.

"You'd be sick for days," Tobias argued.

"That won't stop me from doing anything."

"Idiot."

"Prat."

Jaron was laughing, "As much as I approve of pushing boundaries, maybe you should start at one and a half barrels. You still need to patrol the- ah, you still need to be wary on your feet. . . Or Tobias may be able to disarm you in a sparring match."

"Didn't think of that," Roden groaned. "My reputation would be ruined."

"Your reputation is already ruined," Amarinda teased.

"Damaged beyond compare, there's absolutely no chance you can repair it. You'll be churning butter your whole life," Jaron inched his way closer to Imogen, and settled an arm around her. "Maybe you could open a shop."

"I fully intend to vanish, and then train wannabe heroes just like the mentors from the old legends."

"Don't the mentors usually die in the legends?"

"Everyone dies in legends, that's why they're legends."

"I thought we were going to avoid depressing subjects," Imogen chirped. She tugged on the end of her braid.

A moment of silence settled in over everyone.

Avoiding the scars they'd all received would never be an easy task. They were still too fresh despite appearing to be healed.

Each one had different burdens.

Each one bore their own burden in different ways.

For Imogen, she found herself almost always afraid that somebody would materialize out of the dark and put an arrow through her shoulder again.

For Jaron, he couldn't ever seem to sit still, something he struggled with as a child before. If he was constantly moving, there was less of a chance of being caught.

"My cousin, Princess Eline, sent me a letter," Amarinda said. "She's going to be named heir to the throne soon."

"She's going to become queen in her own right?" Jaron's eyes went wide. "That's incredible!"

"She's taking the situation very seriously, especially since she's so young. However, there is much. . . Much to be done to prepare for the ceremony. I hope to attend."

"I hope we all can attend."

Silence once again.

They all knew that they were avoiding a subject very specific to Princess Eline's new title as Crown Princess.

Princess Eline had the support of the Royalists, but no support from those calling themselves the Tairrogists.

The Tairrogists insisted that they needed a new monarch.

One that would focus on Bymar's affairs before attending to their allies.

And they were gaining an unsettling amount of support from the people of Bymar.

Amarinda wasn't the type to watch her country topple, even if she did have a duty to Carthya and her husband above all.

That was how she kept herself composed.

She busied herself with ways to make life better for everyone, and did her best to involve Tobias. Together, they worked through their concerns.

Their fears were slowly melting away.

Together, they recognized that there was only so much that they could do within their power.

Unlike Roden.

Unlike Captain Roden Harlowe, who silently insisted that he was strong enough to save everyone he could.

The results when he couldn't save everyone were devastating to watch.

So he turned to the company of alcohol. The local tavern had a stool reserved just for him. The local barmaids always did their best to serve him first for the chance to accompany him to his bed.

He kept himself detached and too involved all at once.

And he never slept alone.

"I've always wanted to know how to make a daisy chain," Roden blurted, saying the first thing that came to his mind.

"A daisy chain?" Imogen tilted her head. "I'm quite good at those, have anyone in mind you're going to give it to?"

"Not really, just need something to do while I'm out in the woods on a boring day."

"I think making daisy chains is a brilliant idea. You can use it as a weapon, maybe even a rope," Jaron snickered. "Can't tell you how many times my life has been saved by flowers."

"Ah, see, I can think of one time your life was definitely saved by flowers, your Highness," a smile split across Imogen's face like a ray of sunshine.

"None of you will ever understand how grateful I am for Imogen. If more people were like her, we'd get everything under control."

Nobody could deny that Imogen was certainly the most productive out of them all.

"I know I could use a few notes on remaining focused," Amarinda's gaze flickered to a special area. "Especially when Tobias and I are taking inventory in the physician's chambers."

Another wave of snickers rippled through the circle as Tobias's ears turned beat red, "I, ah, could say the same."

"Dear Saints, I hate being around you all," Roden groaned.

"Right! Daisy chains!" Imogen clapped her hands together, desperately trying to change the subject. "You start by getting-"

"-Daisies of course," Jaron said. He stood, and held out a hand to Imogen, "Care to look for them with me?"

"Don't mind if I do."

By the time they both returned from 'looking for daisies', a newcomer had joined Amarinda, Tobias, and Roden on the blanket. The sunlight glinting off of his shiny, bald head brought safety to both Jron and Imogen.

There was nobody they trusted more than Mott.

"Mott!" Jaron exclaimed, nearly dropping all of the daisies he'd collected. "Ae you sure it's safe for you to be out-"

"I'm not made of glass, Jaron," Mott sighed, but a ghost of a smile lingered on his face.

"I know, but, I do worry."

"I wish you didn't. What have you got there?'

Everyone was far too talented at changing the subject.

"We're going to teach Roden how to make a daisy chain," Imogen said. She sat down on the blanket, and began passing out bundles of daisies.

Mott tried his best to hide his surprise, "Is there somebody he's courting?"

"The day I court somebody, male or female, is the day that I get a sword through my middle," Roden snapped.

"Violent words from a lover," Jaron placed his hand over his heart. "How could you forsake our love, dear captain?"

"Because you're the type of person to steal the blanket in the middle of the night and I get cold."

"You do steal the blanket, Jaron," Imogen noted.

"I am not a blanket stealer!"

He was indeed a blanket stealer.

Quite inconvenient on a snowing night.

"To start with a daisy chain, you need a pair of flowers. One is going to wrap around the other," Imogen held up the daisies, expertly wrapping one stem around its twin. "You sort of repeat this pattern until it's as long as you like. I sometimes tie the ends together with string because they stay longer, but I don't think we have anything. . ."

"I have string!" Tobias said.

"Never leaves home without it," Amarinda grinned. "Always insists that he might need to stitch somebody up."

"Can't help it, I'm friends with Roden."

"Speak to me kindly," Roden frowned.

"Not on your life."

"Prat."

"Idiot."

The first batch of daisy chains from Jaron and Tobias fell apart. Eventually, their daisies became too worn out, and they fell apart. However, Roden seemed to be a natural at first. . . Until about halfway through the chain when he accidentally broke off a daisy, causing the entire thing to fall apart.

Amarinda's crown was finished quickly, and in no time, her crown was resting on Tobias's head while she worked on a second one.

They made sure to speak to each other while they weaved. It helped keep their minds from wandering to dismal places.

Crowns were made and placed on heads.

Mott's bald head couldn't keep the crown in place until one was made to specifically fit his head, and his alone.

Tobias, at first, bore the most crowns. . .

But the circle made an unspoken pact, wrestled Jaron to the ground, and shoved as many daisy chains as they could onto and over his head.

It had been a long time since they'd all laughed that hard.

Later that evening, as Jaron sat alone in his office reading decrees and letters, he couldn't shake the feeling that the afternoon he'd shared with his friends would be the last truly happy thing to happen for a long time.

And it scared him.

It scared him that things weren't slowing down as he'd hoped. Though Carthya was well on their way to recovering from the Avenian war, Bymar was teetering on the edge of civil war.

As their ally, Carthya had an obligation to assist Bymar.

But what could they offer?

If Jaron sent troops, the Carthyan population would be decimated.

If he didn't. . . He'd be a traitor.

Oh how he wished that he could spend every afternoon simply making daisy chains with his inner circle..

#the ascendance series #ascendance trilogy #prince jaron #roden #roden harlowe #tobias branch #princess amarinda #imogen #mott #false prince #runaway king #shadow throne #captive kingdom #everyone has issues #fic friday #gosh i love roden so much #jaron is my literal fave #enjoy!

8 notes · View notes

cullywullycurlywurly · 7 years

Text

“No.”

“But Cullen, see here-“

“Did I stutter?”

“Anyone would think you didn’t want to share them.”

“Not with the nobility of Orlais, I do not.”

“I think you are being rash. This is an excellent reason for a peaceful, joyful gathering, as well as winning ourselves some influence with the nobility. Recently, things have been tricky to say the least. An evening reception could be the turning point for this.”

“They are not bargaining chips.”

“But they attract much attention-”

“So?”

“The children of the Herald of Andraste and the Commander of the Inquisition. Surely you understand the interest that garners; the people are curious.”

“They can stay curious, and preferably several miles away from Skyhold.”

Josephine let out an indignant huff, pointing her quill at him from across the war table. “You are being insufferable, and pig-headedly stubborn about this.”

“Good.”

“Cullen, it will be a fine evening!”

“They are children! One of them barely an infant, three months old!” Cullen’s lip curled as he snarled his response. “They will have no idea what is happening, other than being peered at and patted and prodded, on display for your politicking. I won’t agree to it.” He folded his arms firmly, glowering across the room at her, fully intending that the conversation be over.

“That’s a pity, because the Inquisitor already has.”

“What?!”

——

“I’d like to voice, once again, that I am entirely against this entire idea. Maker knows why you ever agreed to it.” Cullen’s scowl was fixed as the procession of caravans and trailers made their way into the courtyard of Skyhold, mingling with the welcoming party, the sounds of laughter and conversation rising in the air. Their daughter sat in his arms, young eyes watching the arriving banners and colours with fascination from the safety of the parapets.

“Is that why we have more guard on duty than the entirety of Val Royeaux?”

The displeasure on his face was evident. “Inviting half of Orlais in to our home, even just for the evening, is asking for trouble. Andraste preserve me, I will have lost my patience by the time the end of this debacle comes around.”

Elicia rolled her eyes, moving to stand at his side, gently leaning into him. The infant tucked in the crook of her arm squeaked at the movement, but continued to slumber on. “Cullen, love. You are overthinking this.”

She felt the soft scratch of stubble as he kissed the side of her head, free arm linking around her waist, pulling her in close, chest heaving with a sigh. “It makes me nervous.” The stark confession came as his previous stoicism slipped. “It is too easy, too open and exposed. It is bad enough having to agree to place you on a pedestal for all to see, to leave you so exposed, that I cannot control. But for them too…I know I cannot hide them here forever, but…To wish for some normality for them, to be safe in this uneasy world…”

“I cannot think of any way they will ever be safer. Skyhold is their home.” She let the silence hang for a moment before continuing. “We need to appease these families and win some favour for ourselves. I know you understand it well enough, and I know that underneath you distain for our ambassador’s posturing, you recognise the reality we face. This is difficult, but our duty to the Inquisition must also be a consideration. It is one evening.”

The sigh that began his reply told her he understood fine well. “They will be safe, because I have stationed guards at every possible problematic area within Skyhold, and will have all on high alert for any issues. I will not allow anything other than a trouble-free evening.”

“They will be safe,” Elicia countered, turning her gaze upwards to meet his, “because their father will be less than a breath away at all times. No would-be trouble maker would dare to do anything with that particular threat hanging over them.”

She allowed herself a coy grin as she felt his chest rise and fill with pride, the low chuckle that fell from his lips more relaxed. “At least we are in agreement about something.”

Any further response he had was interrupted by an excited cry from the toddler in his arms.

“Daddy, look! Flags!” ——

As it happened, the reception was undisturbed and typically boring. The nobles fawned over the new arrival (yes, he repeatedly answered, he had taken his eyes and hair from his father), whispered hushed remarks about the blessed second infant of the Herald (Connor, he did have a name, sweet Maker!) and marvelled at how alike their young girl was to her mother (Maker’s breath, was that really a surprise?). Frankly, the events of the day did little to change his opinion on the uselessness of pomp and circumstance of nobility, and only further served to reinforce his belief that a few good soldiers was better than any damn party. He was polite, however, Josephine’s warning eyes often finding him, and he spent the early evening fielding questions with ease, and sheltering a shy Imogen in his arms from the squealing noble women attempting to pinch her cheeks.

But when she began to whine, and rub at her eyes, and the baby grew restless, even with a full stomach, Cullen merrily volunteered to commandeer the bed time effort. Elicia had thanked him as she had passed the boy, the look they shared telling him there would be an admittance later on that perhaps he had been right about inviting so many people at once. But it was gone in a flash, and she was drawn into another conversation with another masked noble. Cullen slipped from the Great Hall with ease, leaving instructions with the guard should his presence be required, before disappearing into the quiet of Skyhold and the safety of their personal quarters, the warmth of the embers from the fire glowing in the dark of the evening.

As the door closed, he felt the invisible burden slip from him. Complete. He could relax, now that privacy was once more theirs, that the peering eyes and sickly-sweet voices had disappeared. Elicia was capable, more than capable, of handling an evening reception full of finery and indulgence. She was, after all, noble blooded, born into that world, far more attune with it and less noticeably irritated; Cullen, despite valiant attempt, had yet to ever find the patience, and often fought to control the sarcasm that awaited on his tongue. For all that the Inquisition was, and had, the Ferelden farm boy at his core still yearned for the most peaceful life he could muster.

He kicked off the leather boots that so pained his feet, setting the baby down amongst the covers on the bed before shedding the heavy dress jacket and waistcoat, and loosing the collar of his shirt. He set about changing Imogen from the ridiculously ruffled dress she had been subjected to, cladding her in fresh nightclothes and freeing her ever-growing hair from the confines of the plait Elicia had so carefully put in place.

“Come now, how about some peace from all that madness, hm? You have done a fine job as our newest ambassador. You look a little more like yourself now though, little one, and I fear I shall always prefer you to do so.” The soft giggle from her as he tickled under her chin made his heart swell, and he planted several kisses on her cheeks, peals of light laughter ringing out in response. Bundling both her and her brother back into his arms, he settled amongst the pillows on the bed, Imogen curling under one arm, the baby, with his golden tufts and rosy fat cheeks, nuzzling into his chest, breathing settling as calm descended. Cullen’s eyes closed almost automatically, the peaceful bliss addictive, and the content feeling of having both close, safe and quiet.

“So little, so new here, but so loved. Endless possibility, wrapped with hopes and dreams. Must protect, too innocent, too much evil in this world for them. How such little people have such hold over a heart.”

The sudden voice made him jump, eyes snapping open; even now, the Hedge mage could catch him by surprise. “Cole.” It was a rather obvious statement, and the boy, perched on the chair opposite, tilted his head.

“I was not aware you were sleeping. Did I frighten you?”

“I wasn’t, I…never mind.” He sighed, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“The Inquisitor asked me to check you had escaped in safety. She is trapped within conversation, mask after mask, words, words, words. It is so busy, but nobody notices Cole. I slipped up here very easily for her. She was worried it was too much.”

“Did she now?” He relaxed, returning to gently patting his son’s back, lulling him into a peaceful slumber with the quietest of sniffles. “Well, you can tell her that all is well, and she is free to continue with her evening. Although, I doubt I will be rejoining her, so please pass on my apologies.”

“Warm arms, broad chest, hands that guide, eyes that adore. Safe from all here, with my father, my favourite place in his embrace.”

Cullen’s eyes snapped up once more, following Cole’s gaze to his sleeping daughter, a dainty hand curled amongst his shirt, dark curls splayed as she found sleep, peace on her face, cheek resting at the arch of his shoulder. The creeping familiarity of fierce love wove into his chest as he watched her sleep, Cole’s words ringing in his ear, and a soft chuckle escaped him as he closed his eyes, knowing the spirit would be gone, leaving them in blissful peace once more.

#da:i #dad cullen #da:i fanfic #shameless papacullen loving #cullen rutherford #inquisitor x cullen #cullen #papacullen #cullywullycurlywurly

161 notes · View notes

sydneysmuses · 5 years

Text

WELCOME

I’m Sydney! My timezone is PST and my preferred pronouns are she/her. I feel like my activity level is probably incredibly embarrassing because it’s summer and I don’t have anything else to do other than sit around and try my best to write out sub-par replies to people who could probably write a best selling novel any minute now.

THE BASICS

My application is for Miss Rowan Vasquez (female, she/her, 21).

MORE INFO

I have so many backstory ideas for Rowan that I believe would tie her into her label as the Icarian. I would start with her family – perhaps it’s cliche to knock a parent out of a kid’s life, but I feel like it would make a lot of sense. Rowan getting raised in a single-parent household would lead to her having been far more independent at a younger age. Not to mention early independence leads to adventure; leads to wanting to try new things since she was always able to get some time to herself around the house and around the town. That sense of adventure could have come to Rowan in a plethora of ways, but I imagine it started as a way for her to have fun within her small town. Her mom had her when she was too young, her father had no interest in sticking around, it was just the two of them - always. Rowan encouraged her mom to go back to school as soon as she could get herself around town without assistance, encouraged her to pursue the law degree that she had always wanted. So while her mother worked as a paralegal during the day and took classes at night, Rowan was able to roam free without someone barking at her about staying safe. I imagine that she missed her Dad, wondered what it would be like to have him around. His absence surely left her more stand-offish when it comes to relationships with anyone. So when she develops feelings, they are real, sincere, long-lasting. It’s easy for her to act as if her wall is standing taller than anyone else’s, easy for her to diminish any genuine feeling and replace it with adrenaline. I feel like everything about Rowan would lead her to be the girl who just wants to pick dare every time the question is thrown out to her by her group of friends. Not only in an effort to do something spontaneous, but to avoid speaking any truths that might ruin with the idea of being opaque. I wanted to continue by linking the muse blog I created for Rowan, which is located here. I know typically it’s presumed that since it’s a “muse blog” it will be full of posts that describe the character, but I figured that might be too easy. You guys obviously worked hard to individualize the titles and it would have been really simple to go through the Icarian tag and show you posts that you will probably end up reblogging onto the group’s muse blog in due time. So instead, I wanted to primarily focus on posts that described the pre-determined connections (with a few regular musing posts mixed in). I also wanted to throw out ideas for possible connections based on the characters that aren’t mentioned on Rowan’s page because regardless of what has been pre-determined – a group is more fun when you have some kind of plot with everyone! So some possible connections and why they might be interesting/work for Rowan and [insert character name here]: Riyan: Friendly Acquaintances! Why? I don’t think they’re friendship could go much further because Rowan and Kian have been Friends With Benefits since high school and Riyan and Kian do not have a good relationship. However, Rowan and Saoirse seem to be linked at the hip and Riyan and Saoirse are each other’s wingpeople. So Rowan has to at least be able to put up with them for a few hours of partying when they’re out at night. Dakota: Bad Influence! Why? Dakota is so serene, with a big heart and easily taken for granted. And while they may not be swayed to do anything that might be considered ‘bad’, Rowan would want to beg them to at least consider taking a walk on the wild side. Not to mention if they are easy to convince, then perhaps she could force them along for a few joy rides. Jinae: Flirtationship! Why? Since Jinae is the vixen I think this one was a little more obvious of a choice, but only because Rowan would more than likely play in to any flirting or flirtatious behavior more than someone else might. She isn’t tied down to anyone (at the moment) and Jinae is said to not really have any kind of regard for people. So their friendship could be sexual and shallow and at the end of the day neither of them would probably expect anything other than playful banter. Ryland: Enemies Turned Friends! Why? I’m not usually a proponent of a character disliking someone because of a mutual ex-relationship, but I could see this one making sense for a while. If Taesuk was her first love and then they followed up with a relationship to Ryland (one that doesn’t seem to haved ended well) I could certainly see Rowan not liking Ryland in the moment. And now that they’ve both moved on, perhaps they can bond over what once made them butt heads. Naomi: Close Friends! Why? Both of them have a wild side that involves pushing the limits and going a bit further than originally intended. I would be hesitant to call them best friends since their liklinesses may lead them to butt heads at times, but i’m sure they would enjoy going out together and taking parts in events since they’re both up for an adventure. Korrine: Opposites (Attract)! Why? It’s clear that Korrine is of a different social status that Rowan would be and prefers more materialistic possessions than Rowan would – though that’s not say that Rowan would be absolutely disgusted by it. She probably will never understand the lifestyle, but since Korrine finds it difficult to relate to people who do not meet their standards these polar opposites might not always be the best of friends. Imogen: Brotp/Sibling Bond! Why? Imogen is a follower and Rowan is someone who doesn’t even know how to stay in a straight line long enough to be the leader. I imagine that they would be able to bond over the fact that Imogen is loyal and also willing to give in to new adventures. I imagine Rowan as the ‘older sibling’ in the friendship, probably misguiding Imogen a bit, but only with good intentions in mind. Garvan: Gym Buddies! Why? This one was kind of random when it came to me, but it’s clear that Garvan likes to fight and is more physical, so I really thinks it worked. I would imagine Rowan is fairly athletic and enjoys boxing as a sport because not only does it provide her with knowledge of self defense, but getting in the ring is another for of exhilaration for the girl. I could imagine her hearing about one of their altercations and begging them to come out and fight. Brody: Enemies/Butt-Heads! Why? It’s right in Brody’s description that they like to manipulate and Rowan would not respond well to someone trying to tell her what she should or shouldn’t do. Not to mention, the constant need to be deceptive wouldn’t roll well with her and I could see her at least attempting to call them out or bring up what they’ve been doing behind people’s backs. Especially in the form of a ‘truth’. Kotah: Love Hate Relationship! Why? I could see Rowan growing annoyed with Kotah’s mind set and general admiration for themself. Though, she wouldn’t be able to completely hate them / write them off all the time because if they are equally as spontaneous as she is then they could probably have a lot of fun. I imagine a lot of bickering, but nothing that would ever be too harmful to either of their egos. Paisley: Family Friends! Why? Paisley’s negative attribute is that they’re judgemental, but Rowan doesn’t seem like the type who would even care. Especially if the two of them had met at a young age through their families. Rowan would more than likely be used to it by now, let it shrug off her shoulders, and spare someone else who is more sensitive from having to deal with whatever crticism comes out of their mouth.

ETCETERA

I feel like i’ve already managed to ramble enough, so I will spare you guys!! Everything looks amazing and I hope you get all the apps in the world and that they meet your expectations!!

#rowan vasquez #palepassives

0 notes