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#all things i’ve done within my own town that were easy and fun and great ways to socialize and meet people near me
wilberave · 4 months
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the terrifying moment of realization when talking to a self proclaimed Leftist when you can immediately tell “oh. this person has never done an hour of community service in their life.” like. i know it’s been said before but your politics truly do not matter if you’re not interacting with your community in any way. you can vote in every single election and it will not have a fraction of the impact of 17 year old tyler who got sentenced to 20 hours of picking up litter and weeding the community garden. you can never once vote out of protest and read piles of theory and not come close to making the change that the group of 80 year old catholic ladies at St. Mary’s on the corner do with their weekly community meals and school supply drives. we live in the rotting corpse of an evil empire. ideas mean fucking nothing. the only thing that matters at all is physically extending a hand to try to help the people around you.
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fortunatelyfresco · 3 years
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A Holistic Integration of Type 1 Narcolepsy into the Reading of Moist von Lipwig
Literary Interpretation, Disability, and Finding Yourself Between the Lines
As it goes, "I wrote this for me, but you can read it if you want." It might be a fun ride for anyone who is very interested in Moist von Lipwig, or narcolepsy, or both, and/or anyone who enjoys collecting small details from within a body of work and arranging them into threads that are supportable by the text, without being actually suggested by it.
Personally, I find it very interesting to read the meta behind different headcanons, and see how creators can unintentionally write a character who fits certain criteria. There are only so many traits, after all, and some of them tend to travel in groups! Humans are pattern seekers, etc etc.
The first step of reading Moist von Lipwig as narcoleptic is wanting to read Moist von Lipwig as narcoleptic. Being narcoleptic myself and relating heavily to Moist, this step was very easy. I invite you to take my hand and come along, at least briefly, if you were interested enough to click the readmore.
Once you have taken that step, things start falling into place. At least they do if you're intimately familiar with narcolepsy, or if you first learn about it in detail through, for instance, a Tumblr post with an agenda :)
I'll break this down symptom by symptom, citing only the ones I both have personal experience with and see textual support for.
I'll be using OverDrive's search function to catalogue "evidence" in (the American editions of) Going Postal, Making Money, and Raising Steam, so I might miss passages that don't use certain keywords.
Please take any statements along the lines of "being narcoleptic means X" with a huge grain of salt. Sometimes it's just more succinct. Narcolepsy can manifest in many different ways, and is still being actively studied. Don't base your entire understanding of it on a fandom essay I wrote to cope with the crushing pressures of capitalism. I have not even fully read the scientific studies linked here as sources.
Here we go! Spoilers abound.
I. Excessive Daytime Sleepiness (EDS) and sleep attacks.
Being narcoleptic means (salt now, please) that your brain does not get adequate rest while you sleep, no matter how much you sleep. This is because of a disturbance in the order and length of REM and NREM sleep phases. This leads to constant exhaustion. Some sources describe narcoleptic EDS as "comparable to [the sleepiness] experienced by a healthy individual who has been sleep-deprived continuously for 48–72 hours."
(Source.)
Sleep attacks can come on gradually or suddenly. In my case, I become irritable and easily overwhelmed, and nothing matters except finding a place to lie down. A more severe attack, under the right circumstances, can put me to sleep while I'm actively trying to stay awake and engaged.
Moist refers to 6:45 am as "still nighttime." He is "allergic to the concept of two seven o'clocks in one day" and is "not good at early mornings," and the narration even cites this as "one of the advantages of a life of crime; you didn't have to get up until other people had got the streets aired."
In Going Postal, he repeatedly falls asleep at his desk. I can only find two instances, but the first one describes it as having happened "again," so it happens at least three times over the course of one week. Both of the times I found were after Mr. Pump cleared his apartment, giving him access to a bed, and I can't find any reference to the fire destroying it—just that his office is "missing the whole of one wall." His presumably wooden desk is still intact, even, just "charred."
There's also no build-up either time. No direct narration of the time right before he falls asleep, just retroactive accounting for it.
Which is primarily a function of stories not showing us every boring second, and secondarily one of the smaller ways we're shown Moist being overwhelmed and racing to keep up with himself, but tertiarily it's a great set dressing if you've already decided he's narcoleptic. Sometimes sleep is just a thing that happens, without any deliberate transition. Sometimes you sit down to catch your breath or get some paperwork done, and wake up several hours later.
I've found only one example in GP of Moist waking up in his actual bed at the post office: the morning after being possessed by all the undelivered letters. Presumably either they put him there, or Mr. Pump did.
There are two points in Making Money where Moist, in an effort to be a comforting and/or guiding hand, advises people to get some sleep. First Owlswick Jenkins, and then one of the clerks (Robert) who is worried about Mr. Bent.
I take the optimistic view that this is Moist genuinely caring about these people, not just trying to get them to do what he wants. He has always done some combination of those things (GP opens with him having befriended his jailers, after all), but there's definitely a thread of him learning to treat both himself and those around him more like real people. (See also.)
Looking at this thread through narcolepsy-colored lenses, you get Moist perhaps drawing from his own experiences in an effort to be helpful. In Owlswick or Robert's position, what is something he would want to hear from the man currently in charge of his fate, or at least his job? "Get some sleep."
If we accept this as a pattern, it culminates in Raising Steam, when Moist starts to worry about "Dick Simnel and his band of overworked engineers," fixating particularly on their lack of sleep.
What sleep they got was in sleeping bags, curled up on carriage seats, eating but not eating well, just driven by their watches and their desire to keep the train going.
[...]
"People are going to die if we push them any further," he said to Dick. "You lot would rather work than sleep!"
[...]
The young man swayed in front of him and Moist's tone became gentle. "And I see now that part of my job is to tell you that you need some rest. You've run out of steam, Dick. Look, we're well on the way to Uberwald now, and while it's daylight and we're out of the mountains it's going to be the least risky time to run with minimum crew. We're all going to need our wits about us when we get near the pass. Surely you can take some rest?"
Simnel blinked as if he'd not seen Moist the first time, and said, "Yes, you're right."
And Moist could hear the slurring in the young man's speech, caught him before he fell and dragged him into a sleeping compartment, put him to bed, and noted that the engineer didn't so much fall asleep as somehow flow into it.
Moist then recruits Vimes to help him talk the rest of the engineers into getting some rest. The two of them briefly commiserate about people not realizing how important it is.
"I have to teach that to young coppers. Treasure a night's rest, I always say. Take a nap whenever you can."
"Very good."
II. Insomnia.
This is a lesser-known but very common symptom of narcolepsy. Or a comorbidity, depending on how you look at it. It seems counterintuitive if narcolepsy has been presented to you as "sleeping all the time," but it makes sense once you know it's really a matter of disruption in the brain's ability to regulate sleep cycles.
The case for this symptom is flimsier, and I fully admit I'm just reading my own experience into it. But here are two excerpts from Going Postal that I find quite suitable for my sleepy agenda:
1. "A man of affairs such as he had to learn to sleep in all kinds of situations, often while mobs were looking for him a wall's thickness away."
I latched hard onto this detail the first time I read GP.
At my worst, I could not get more than a couple hours of sleep in my bed. I kept taking naps in the bath because it was one of the few places I could sleep. It seemed to fulfill some of the criteria (isolation, temperature control, etc) that my brain demanded in exchange for playing nice.
We're told over and over again, throughout Moist's books, that he functions best under pressure.
(Brief aside: This is often cited as a reason to interpret Moist as having ADHD, which I'm also fully on board with. Not coincidentally, narcolepsy and ADHD share a few symptoms, have a notable comorbidity rate, and are treated with some of the same medications. Source.)
So again, if you're already inclined to read Moist as narcoleptic, the following is an easy jump:
"Moist thinks he's good at sleeping in strange places under strange circumstances. This is because A) his basis for comparison is a disordered attempt to sleep in normal places under normal circumstances, B) something about danger satisfies his brain into running more smoothly, and C) he's a resourceful person who is 'not given to introspection,' and so is less likely to wonder why his body demands sleep at strange times and more likely to focus on finding a place for that sleep to happen, and chalk this up later as a skill."
And returning briefly to EDS: Why would someone like Moist waste time finding a safe place to sleep while people are actively trying to kill him? At the beginning of GP, he leaves Vetinari's office and immediately goes on the run. In multiple books, when he feels threatened, his brain instinctively launches into complex escape plans. We see him successfully blend into an Ankh-Morpork crowd at least once after becoming a public figure.
So why bother? After all, a safe place to sleep is also a safe place to change clothes, or at least remove whatever distinguishing features he's given himself. Why wouldn't he just become someone else and leave town immediately?
The obvious answer is that sometimes things just happen, and an author doesn't need to know or explain every single detail of a character's past.
I would suggest, though, that one of those things might be Moist reaching a point where sleep is just not optional. A point where he not only doesn't, but can't, care about anything else. Where he is too tired to think straight, too tired to talk his way out of trouble, too tired to even contemplate the long journey from one town to the next.
2. "Moist knew he ought to get some sleep, but he had to be there, too, alive and sparkling."
Sometimes (especially in combination with underlying mental health issues) narcoleptic sleep deprivation can bypass everything I've described so far, and lead straight into a manic state. You won't necessarily find that on Google, but it's been my experience.
That's obviously not what the text is implying. "Alive and sparkling" is just a very relatable description. And we do often see Moist getting away from himself, speaking without thinking, making absurd promises that he justifies immediately afterwards as Just Part Of Being Him, always raising the stakes.
And here are a couple of excerpts from Raising Steam that could be interpreted as Moist being a light sleeper, AKA struggling to get deep sleep:
1. "And slowly Moist shut down, although a part of him was always listening to the rhythm of the rails, listening in his sleep, like a sailor listening to the sounds of the sea."
2. "All Moist's life he'd managed to find a way of sleeping in just about every circumstance and, besides, the guard's van was somehow the hub of the train; and although he didn't know how he did it, he always managed to sleep with half of one ear open."
Moist is exactly the kind of opportunist to see that as a useful tool, isn't he?
III. Hypnagogic and Hypnopompic Hallucinations.
These are hallucinations that come on as you're falling asleep or waking up. They can also happen during REM intrusions while you're awake. My most memorable ones include piano notes, someone calling my name, being trapped in the waves of a large body of water, and a huge truck going over a guard rail and tumbling down a hill. These are often, but not always, accompanied by sleep paralysis (and sleep paralysis is often, but not always, accompanied by hallucinations).
In GP, Moist casually cites his own hallucinations as proof that what is happening at the post office is not one.
"They're all alive! And angry! They talk! It was not a hallucination! I've had hallucinations and they don't hurt!"
Obviously that's not true for everyone, but it's true for Moist, and he has enough experience that he immediately recognizes the difference.
At one point while awake, Moist "[snaps] out of a dream of chandeliers" to realize someone has approached him to talk, while he was busy having visions of what the post office used to look like/could look like again.
Now, that's cheating, because we're probably supposed to assume it's a side effect of being possessed, but... I'm putting it here anyway.
There is also perhaps a case to be made for the tendency of Moist's internal monologue to lapse into extremely specific and prolonged hypotheticals. The lines between hallucinations, waking dreams, and "regular" daydreams have always been very blurry to me. I'm especially curious about the example at the end of Going Postal, which goes like this:
"Look, I know what I'm like," he said. "I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. I just wanted to prove to myself I'm not like Gilt. More than a hammer, you understand? But I'm still a fraud by trade. I thought you knew that. I can fake sincerity so well that even I can't tell. I mess with people's heads—"
"You're fooling no one but yourself," said Miss Dearheart, and reached for his hand.
Moist shook her off, and ran out of the building, out of the city, and back to his old life, or lives, always moving on, selling glass as diamond, but somehow it just didn't seem to work anymore, the flair wasn't there, the fun had dropped out of it, even the cards didn't seem to work for him, the money ran out, and one winter in some inn that was no more than a slum he turned his face to the wall—
And an angel appeared.
"What just happened?" said Miss Dearheart.
Perhaps you do get two...
"Only a passing thought," said Moist.
In-universe... what is Adora reacting to? What did just happen? The fact that these incidents are not isolated to Going Postal is a point against it being some sort of literal timeline divergence caused by The Spirit Of The Post.
So maybe Moist visibly zoned out. Maybe he had some kind of minor but noticeable cataplexy attack (more on those later) as part of a REM intrusion, brought on by the intense emotions he's currently struggling with.
IV. Vivid Dreams.
Again, at least some of this is probably supposed to be part of the possession, but I've been professionally projecting myself onto the surreal dreams of magically afflicted characters for years. Do try this at home.
1. "Moist dreamed of bottled wizards, all shouting his name. In the best tradition of awaking from a nightmare, the voices gradually became one voice, which turned out to be the voice of Mr. Pump, who was shaking him."
2. Moist is uneasy about the Smoking Gnu's plan, and then he has an extremely detailed dream about the Grand Trunk burning down.
This culminates in "Moist awoke, the Grand Trunk burning in his head," followed by a paragraph of him thinking things through and starting to form his own alternative plan, followed immediately by "Moist awoke. He was at his desk, and someone had put a pillow under his head."
So he fell asleep at his desk, woke up from a vivid nightmare, was awake just long enough for a coherent train of thought, and then passed back out. Which once again is not "proof" of anything, but fits the predetermined interpretation like a glove.
V. Cataplexy.
Cataplexy is a sudden loss of muscle control, usually triggered by strong emotions. This is thought to be a facet of REM intrusion—waking instances of the atonia that is meant to stop us from acting out our dreams.
The most well-known manifestation is laughter making your knees buckle, but it's not always that severe. My own attacks range from facial twitching, usually when I'm angry or otherwise extremely upset, to all-over weakness/immobilization and near-collapse when I laugh. My knees have fully buckled once or twice.
This is the biggest stretch. This is the one that is absolutely only there if you've already decided to read entire novels between the lines. It's also not even necessary for the broader headcanon; plenty of people have narcolepsy without cataplexy (or such mild cataplexy that it's never noticeable, or very delayed onset, etc).
However. I am doing this for fun. So I want him to have it. It's also become a major part of how I imagine Moist engaging with emotion, and I'd like to make a case for that.
There are a few scattered references to Moist's legs shaking, or being unsteady, or outright giving way, but there's usually an external physical reason, and/or enough psychological shock to justify it without a medical condition.
The most compelling example I've found so far comes from Moist and Adora's conversation about people expecting Moist to deliver letters to the gods.
"I never promised to—"
"You promised to when you sold them the stamps!"
Moist almost fell off his chair. She'd wielded the sentence like a fist.
"And it'll give them hope," she added, rather more quietly.
"False hope," said Moist, struggling upright.
"Almost fell off his chair" at first sounds like casual hyperbole, but then "struggling upright" implies it was a bit more literal. It's also an accurate description of me recovering from my more severe attacks, supporting myself on a wall or my spouse, or pushing myself up if I've fallen over in bed.
That happens to me multiple times per day, by the way. It doesn't bother me, and I didn't realize there was anything unusual about it for a long time. I barely think about it, except to fondly note that my spouse is good at making me laugh.
Which is to say, even severe cataplexy is not always noticeable or debilitating. Sometimes it absolutely is! It can be downright dangerous, depending on where you are, what you're doing, and whether you have any other conditions it might exacerbate. I don't want to undermine that.
I am just hell-bent on justifying the idea that this fictional character could have repeated attacks throughout the canonical narrative that are so routine they don't merit an explanation, or even a description. Especially for someone who is used to hiding his few distinguishing features behind false ones that are much more memorable. (See also.)
(That link goes to my own fanfic. Sorry.)
On the milder side, between Going Postal and Making Money, there are three instances of Moist's mouth "dropping open" when he's shocked, upset, confused, or some combination of the three. This is the kind of thing that shows up a lot in fiction, but rarely happens so literally in real life.
(There's technically a fourth instance, but I'm not counting it because it seems to be a deliberate choice on his part to convey surprise.)
And then there's laughter. Or rather, there isn't. I could be missing something, but I've searched all three books for instances of laughter and various synonyms (not counting spoken "Ha!"s), and what I've come up with is:
Moist laughs once in Going Postal, when he receives the assignment for the race to Genua.
Two packages were handed over. Moist undid his, and burst out laughing.
There's also an instance earlier in the book where Moist nearly "burst[s] out laughing."
I find the specifics here interesting, and, for our purposes, fortuitous. Cataplexy is complicated and presents differently for everyone. In my case, when laughter triggers an attack, one of the effects (which is sometimes also a cause) is that I laugh very hard, with little or no control. "Burst out laughing" is quite apt.
Let's move on to Making Money, and start with a quick tangent:
Mr. Bent explains that he has no sense of humor due to a medical condition, and that he isn't upset about this and doesn't understand why people feel sorry for him.
Moist immediately starts in with "Have you tried—" before getting cut off by the frustrated Bent.
Out-of-universe, "Have you tried" is such a well-known refrain to anyone with an incurable condition, I'm not at all surprised to find it in a book written by someone who had at least begun the process that would lead to a diagnosis of early-onset Alzheimer's. And Pratchett has certainly never shied away from portraying ignorance in his protagonists.
In-universe, it feels a little odd. Moist's tongue runs away from him all the time, but usually in the form of making ridiculous claims or impossible promises. Moist's entire stock-in-trade is People Skills, and it feels strange for him to make this kind of mistake immediately after being told Mr. Bent is not looking for solutions.
But if one were reading with, for instance, the idea in mind that Moist himself has an incurable condition related to laughter and is enthusiastic about, but still relatively new to, the practice of drawing on his own experiences to help people... it is easy to imagine the gears in his head turning the wrong way, superimposing those experiences over the tail end of Mr. Bent's explanation. Disabled people are not immune to these well-meaning pitfalls.
There is another Mr. Bent moment that I want to discuss, but we'll circle back around to it later.
I found two instances of Moist himself laughing in MM.
1. "He said it with a laugh, to lighten the mood a little."
This is deliberate laughter, employed as a social tactic. A polite chuckle, probably. Not the sort of thing that generally triggers cataplexy.
2. "Moist started to laugh, and stopped at the sight of her grave expression."
The first and only involuntary laugh in MM. It doesn't always trigger attacks...
Which brings us to Raising Steam. Compared to the first two books, Moist laughs a lot here. I count nine instances. Two of them are "burst out laughing"s, a couple include him as part of a group, some of it comes off as deliberate, and some of it doesn't.
I've always seen a lot of... rage in Raising Steam. Combing through it for laughter, I realized Moist's emotions in general are much closer to the surface here, and he's much less concerned about letting people see them. He laughs with friends and acquaintances, he cries in front of strangers, he shouts at Harry King, he has that entire conversation with Dick that boils down to "I'm very worried about you," etc.
Opinions vary wildly and sharply on Raising Steam. I have my own hangups with it, as I do with most books in the series. (Every time I make a new Discworld post, Tumblr passive-aggressively suggests the tag "my kingdom for a discworld character who is normal about women and other species.")
But I like this particular change in Moist, and I choose to see it as character development. He's trading in the professional detachment of a conman for the ability to grow into himself as a person and make meaningful connections.
So, what does that have to do with cataplexy? A lot.
I don't want to get too maudlin, so I'll just say I have plenty of personal experience with emotional repression masking cataplexy symptoms. And so, I believe, does the version of Moist we've put together over the course of this post.
Which brings us back to Making Money, and Mr. Bent. He says something about Moist that I find very interesting: "I do not trust those who laugh too easily."
Unless I've missed something, at that point in the book, Moist has never actually laughed in front of him. And Mr. Bent is a man who pays very close attention to details.
So, what is the in-universe explanation for this? I'd like to propose that Moist is very skilled at seeming to laugh, without actually laughing. He smiles, he's friendly, and he makes other people laugh, which is another thing Bent dislikes about him. He gives the impression of being someone who laughs a lot. (He certainly left that impression on me; I was very surprised by the lack of examples in the first two books.)
Even staying strictly within the bounds of canon, it's easy to imagine why this might have become part of Moist's camouflage in his previous life. He wasn't looking to get attached to anyone, and he didn't want anyone getting inside his head. Engaging with people genuinely enough to laugh at their jokes would run counter to both of those things, but some of his personas still needed to come off as friendly and sociable.
Still working within the canon, it makes sense to assume he's similarly distanced himself from emotion in general. He sits in a cell for several weeks without truly believing he's going to die. He's bewildered when Mr. Pump points out that his schemes have hurt innocent people. He has no idea what to do with his feelings for Adora. Etc.
Interpreting Moist as having cataplexy adds an extra element of danger. Moist thrives on danger, but there's a difference between the thrill of a con and the threat of sudden, uncontrollable displays of vulnerability. And so it becomes even easier to see him stifling his own emotional capacity.*
We meet Moist at a moment of great upheaval. He is forcibly removed from his cocoon of false identities, and pushed out into the world as himself. And we are shown and told throughout Going Postal that he does not know how to be himself. (See also.)
He is repeatedly stymied by his own emotions. He gets tongue-tied and confused around Adora, he snaps at Mr. Pump, he lashes out at Mr. Groat, he gets lost in school flashbacks when he meets Miss Maccalariat. This thread continues in Making Money, where the sudden reappearance of Cribbins immediately rattles him into making an uncharacteristic mistake.
I called him Cribbins! Just then! I called him Cribbins! Did he tell me his name? Did he notice? He must have noticed!
Later in the same book, Moist misses a crucial opportunity to run damage control on the bank's public image... because he's excited to see Adora.
The Moist of GP and MM is not used to feeling things so deeply. It throws him off his game. I'm not at all suggesting cataplexy is the only (or even primary) reason for that, but I do think there's room for it on both sides of the cause and effect equation.
With or without the cataplexy, I find Moist's relative emotional openness in Raising Steam... really nice. (It's a work in progress. He's still getting a handle on anger.)
Cataplexy just adds another dimension. A physical manifestation of emotional vulnerability, which would have been especially untenable for a teenager on the run. Just one more facet of the real, human, fallible Moist von Lipwig who spent years buried beneath Albert Spangler and all the rest.
Another piece of himself that Moist is growing to understand and accept, as he learns to more comfortably be himself.
The Moist of Going Postal runs into a burning building to save lives without fully understanding why he wants to, and justifies it on the fly as an essential part of the role he's trying to play.
The Moist of Raising Steam mindlessly throws himself under a train to save two children, and then blows up at Harry King about the lack of safety regulations. Freshly traumatized by the murder of several railway workers and his own violent, vengeful response to it, he still offers, in the face of Harry's own grief, to be the one to inform their families. On a long and dangerous journey with plenty of moving parts to think about, he worries about Dick Simnel and the other engineers, and pushes them to take better care of themselves.
He also meets a bunch of kids who nearly derailed a train as part of a childish scheme. His admonishment is startlingly vivid.
"Can you imagine a railway accident? The screaming of the rails and the people inside and the explosion that scythes the countryside around when the boiler bursts? And you, little girl, and your little friends, would have done all that. Killed a trainload of people."
[...]
"I'll square this with the engine driver, but if I was you I'd get my pencil and turn any clever ideas you have like this into a book or two. Those penny dreadfuls are all the rage in the railway bookshops."
Maybe what he is also saying, between the lines, is:
I left home at 14 and began a life of smoke and mirrors. I was empty inside, and I thought everyone else was, too. It was all fun and games, and then a man made of clay told me I was killing people. Nip it in the bud, child. Write books.
------------
*There are studies suggesting that in addition to deliberately employed "tricks," people with cataplexy may experience physiological reactions in the brain meant to inhibit laughter. (Source 1, Source 2.)
Most of the information here is way over my head, but that second link also says "one region of the brain called the zona incerta (meaning 'zone of uncertainty') was only activated during laughter in people with narcolepsy, not in controls. Research on the zona incerta in animals suggests that it also helps to control fear-associated behavior."
The linked article about that (https://www.nature.com/articles/s41467-018-03581-6) is also over my head, but I would certainly describe Moist von Lipwig as having unusual fear responses.**
**Narcolepsy is a fun roller-coaster ride of constant scientific discoveries about exactly which parts of your brain are paying too much attention, not paying enough attention, or trying to eat each other.
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roswellnmsource · 3 years
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Michael Trevino Talks The Valenti Legacy & Roswell, New Mexico's Exciting Season 3
So, I'm just jumping right in here. Kyle has had a lot going on in season three, to put it mildly. How would you describe his journey so far this season?
Well, as I'm sure you know, Kyle is continuing to put out fires. He's there for as many people as he can be, but he's definitely called upon. And whenever he's needed, I feel like he shows up, but in episode 3x09, that's going to air next week, I think we kind of see things. He's reached his limit. And you sense his frustration. And I feel that it's warranted even though it comes in a bit hot, but we're in season three, and his life has taken a turn. And he's finding out more and more about his own family history, and I think it's just been a bit frustrating for him.
Sure. And while Kyle was recovering, the audience got the big bomb dropped on us that Ramos is Kyle's uncle. And that adds another layer to the Valenti history and legacy. So can you kind of speak to where Kyle currently is in regards to his feelings about his father and his feelings about the legacy of his family?
Well, I think what the writers have done is really, from season one to season three, has painted a picture of who Kyle's father was. Who is Jim Valenti? And at first, we thought he's this great guy that Kyle had looked up to and always wanted to make proud. And maybe that is the driving force in everything and anything that Kyle does. Well, now we're finding out a bit more about who Jim really was. We've been on this journey of season two with Jesse Manes, that whole interaction. And now we're finding out a bit more in season three. And that really flips Kyle's world upside down. I don't see how it couldn't. So he becomes this angsty, frustrated individual because you're thinking you know somebody, and you're finding out all these different things about him or her. And so with Eduardo, I feel that it's like, "What else? What else am I missing?" What else can be thrown his way? Because now we find out that, yeah, Eduardo, "Oh, you're my uncle. Interesting. Why hasn't anybody ever told me that before? Where have you been? Can you help me understand what is going on?" And when you think about that, Kyle probably thinks, "Well, who am I really? What is this really about?" So I don't know if he's, maybe, in the middle of wondering or questioning his own identity of what is this Valenti code? Has that been a lie? Because that's something that he's lived by, so that's where we're at.
Will we get to find out more about what happened the night that Kyle was attacked?
No, not really. I'm trying to think fast here of exactly, no, I mean, when we started episode 309, we find out, has he been in a coma? Was he injected with something? Was he knocked out? So, it was briefly explained, but I think, more so, we get into Eduardo and Kyle. Who are they to one another? And that is a jumping-off point for Kyle.
You touched on this a little bit earlier, but Kyle is not only the doctor that everyone needs, but he's also a confidant as well. Can you speak to Kyle's role, how you see Kyle's role within his group of friends?
Yeah. I think Kyle is somebody that you can depend on. He's somebody who has everybody's best interest at heart. If you call upon him, he's going to be there for you. And I think that what I've enjoyed about being on the show is how Kyle is interwoven between all the storylines, everything that's happening. He is a part of that, in some capacity. So that's been fun to play just as an actor with everybody on our cast, but that's just going to continue. And I feel like it's just going to get heavier. Just a heavier burden on Kyle, on what else needs to be done, how he can help, what is asked of him, needed of him to finish off the season.
And that also kind of flows into my next question, which is that Kyle is a character that has deeply personal relationships with pretty much all of the core characters, but is there a certain dynamic that you wish could be explored a bit more on the show? Like this season, we've got you with Michael some more and some more with you and Rosa, is there any particular dynamic you'd like to see explored more?
Great question. A hundred percent. Kyle and Isobel. I want to see it. I want them to...what is their dynamic? Cause I think the energy that Lily brings to Isobel is so... it's not infectious, but it's... it is infectious, but it's also, she just has so much energy. She's a ball of energy, and I want to see...and she's powerful. She's just fierce. And so, I'd like to see more Isobel and Kyle scenes. What is their friendship relationship to one another? And I'd like to explore that.
Yeah, that'd be great. Cause I also think with Kyle, every person he gets to interact with brings out a different side to him, which is really nice to see as well.
Yes, very much so. I'm glad you noticed that because it's true. It's true. And that's why I picked Isobel because I think that out of everybody, you see the most, you see such a different side of Kyle whenever he's interacting with Isobel. For whatever reason, I feel like it's always there compared to any other character. And so, I'd want to explore that more.
Yeah, I'd like that too. So last season, we saw Kyle in a relationship with Steph, but this season we haven't seen him pursuing anyone romantically. Will that be something that changes as the season progresses, or will his focus kind of lay elsewhere?
No, I think the focus at this point is not only is he going to be more involved with Deep Sky and Eduardo. But everybody, in some way, is going to have to deal with Jones. And that's gotta be priority number one. So, I don't see any time for any romance.
Earlier in the season, Kyle was presented with an opportunity to potentially leave Roswell for new opportunities. If that were to ever happen, which I hope it never does, where do you think Kyle would end up?
Ooh! That's fun. I think Kyle would go to New York. I think he'd go to the East Coast. I think he'd want to be in the big city. He'd want to be in Manhattan and just have that energy. Because we all love Roswell, but it is a bit of small-town living. And so, I think I would see him pursuing more in the medical field in the big city.
This season feels like a bit of a rebirth in some ways. And it's been a lot of fun for the audience. So, is there anything about season three that you particularly enjoy? Not just for Kyle, but the show as a whole?
Ooh. Listen, where we're at now in the season is Jones. Jones is our "big bad," if you will. And what's fun is, one to see Nathan Dean play two characters, right? And trying to see him add different layers to both of them. So that's been fun. I know last season he was working his ass off, and I think it shows. But to do that, to play two characters, is a lot. I really enjoyed him tackling that, but all of us have that in common, right? It's like, okay, we have to all come together, join forces almost like it's The Avengers or something to take care of Jones. This is our big bad. This is priority number one, and this is what we have to take care of. And I know in the later episodes, it's everybody joining forces. I mean, it's exactly what you would think of all of us in one scene, coming together, being like, "Okay, we got to get rid of this guy. How do we do this?" And everybody has their job.
I know you are shooting season four now. What is it like being back in Santa Fe and stepping back into the role, and how much do you enjoy filming in Santa Fe and everything that kind of goes with it?
Well, I noticed, we shot season three a little later in the year, and so it was the dead of winter; it was freezing. I think you can see that in the episodes that are currently airing. We may seem like we're not cold, but we are freezing, freezing. I liked that we started a bit earlier for season four. So right now, the cold hasn't set in yet. We're shooting very beautiful exterior shots, and it's been nice. It's been nice. The show is still going. I do want to thank all the fans that continue to watch week to week and are still invested in the story that we're telling and the characters that we're playing because we're getting into that rare territory. It's season four, and we're all still happy to be here. We're all still working. I've been on series' that last a long time. And sometimes the dynamics can shift, right? But I can honestly say that I think everybody on this series is happy to be here and happy to work and grateful for that. And so, it is a nice feeling. We're plugging away right now. It's season four; things are going really well. I really like these episodes. And it's a different energy because we're working, but then we're also able to get instant feedback on which episodes are airing currently. That's a really nice feeling, but me, I enjoy Santa Fe. It's a beautiful part of New Mexico. And we're all great right now until maybe in about a month and a half until it gets freezing again. But right now, we're good.
Yeah, and congratulations to you because, like you alluded to, getting four seasons nowadays is no easy thing to do. So, you guys should be very proud of that.
And trust me, I'm reminding our cast every chance I get. I'm like, "Hey, this is a good thing here." I think people are still engaged in what we're doing. People are still tuning in. And so as long as that's happening and we're doing our jobs, everything should be fine.
This is just a little bit of a fun question. If you could think of a Vampire Diaries character that you would like to see swoop into Roswell for a bit, who do you think that would be?
Oh, damn. That's a great question. I'd love to have more time to think on this, but off the top of my head right away, gut reaction because I'm envisioning my buddy, Zach Roerig, in a Sheriff's uniform. And I'm envisioning Max in a Sheriff's uniform. And I don't know why I want them to... maybe they don't get along. Maybe there's a new sheriff in town. I don't know what. I don't know what, but it would be very awesome to see Zach Roerig play Matt Donovan in Roswell, New Mexico. But him be that character. Have him be Matt Donovan and just kind of react to what's going on here. And if it's the same character, you'd think he'd be like, "Okay, first I was dealing with witches, werewolves, and vampires. I'm coming to this town. You're telling me there's aliens here." Let's make this a comedy. I want to see that play out. That would be hilarious.
Yes, it really would be. Last question for me, with this season winding down, is there anything you can tease for us about where Kyle's story goes from here?
I think what we're going to see him and Eduardo be allies to one another, and Kyle's involvement in Deep Sky is going to be greater, and everybody has to come together for this guy, Jones. It's all hands on deck. Cause Jones is very powerful, manipulative, and we have to get him out of here.
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slafkovskys · 3 years
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somewhere along the lines / t. zegras
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my masterlist!
title from it ain’t me by kygo ft selena gomez
-
you had missed bedford, that was not something that you could lie about. it was your hometown, where you’d grown up, had met almost every person that you knew. it would never be anaheim and that was a fact.
another thing about bedford, despite everyone saying that it was quiet and safe and cozy, there were almost no secrets. shortly after you had arrived back in town, word seemed to spread like wildfire when you’d come home just barely three months after you had fled to california, following after trevor.
now, five days later, your son was tucked away with your mother in your childhood home and your car was pulling into a spot beside trevor’s that he had decided to keep at his parent's house when he left for the season. you could see him inside, his back to you at a table in the corner with his head down, hat covering his likely unruly hair.
you almost pull away, hand reaching to shift your car from park to reverse, but you stop yourself. he deserved an explanation just as much as you deserved closure.
you grab your bag from the passenger seat and open the car door, planting your sneaker-clad feet on the ground. you cross your arms over your chest, the new york chill wrapping around you as you quickly make your way towards the entrance.
walking into the cafe, the man behind the counter smiles at you. you walk up with the same grin and order the same thing you used to when you were in high school. you pay and nod when he tells you that it would take a few minutes, grabbing the number he hands you. you turn and find trevor already staring.
you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth and take a deep breath before walking over. you sit your bag in the chair beside you and stick your number in the holder before sitting down, “hi trevor.”
“why did you do it?” his scratchy voice asks, immediately jumping to the point, “why did you leave me?”
-
it was earth-shattering. heart-stopping. enough to send a round of cold chills down your body.
you were staring at the test with an emotionless face while the single word was staring right back at you, pregnant. you were barely seventeen then, still so young and planning on starting college applications soon. there was so much that you didn’t know and you were much too young to be responsible for someone else, you thought.
you didn’t cry. you wanted to, but the tears just wouldn’t come. instead, you put the test back into its box and shove it back into the bag before walking out of the drug store and to your car. you could feel the eyes of the cashier following you. she was the same one who used to place your animal crackers in front of you when you were four and now, thirteen years later, she was watching the aftermath of the pregnancy test that she had just sold you.
it was still early, the sky was dark and the atmosphere was glum. as you drove yourself to school. you stopped for some breakfast, so you wouldn’t have been telling your mother a complete lie as to why you had to leave so early, before parking in the same spot that you had been since you first got your license.
the brown paper bag that held your food was almost taunting. fifteen minutes ago you would have killed for what was inside, but now your stomach was so twisted that you didn’t even want to look at it. you sat in your car taking sips of your water before you grab your backpack and the brown bag and trudge inside.
you were six weeks into your senior year at that point and things were great. everything was great, your grades, your friends, your life. nothing had needed changing right then.
you walked into your first class of four that you had every day. your usual spot was open and angela, your designated partner, already occupied the seat beside it. she smiles when she sees you and holds up a hand, signaling that she had something to tell you, “first, you would not believe what happened last night. and second, what’s in the bag?”
“it’s got bacon and egg on it, so you wouldn’t like it,” you shake your head as you pull out your chair. you set the bag alongside your backpack on the tabletop before dropping down in the seat. “what happened last night?”
“so-” she’s interrupted by a loud noise.
you both look towards the door and watch as griffin strolls through, a big smile on his face. he heads directly for you and gestures to the bag. you wave your hand, “you can have it.”
“sweet!” he says, taking the bag off your table and placing it on his which was directly beside your own. he had wasted no time in devouring the sandwich, eating so fast you weren’t even sure he had time to taste it. he looks back at you after reaching for his water, “do you have a pencil i can borrow? i’ll give it back.”
“no you won’t,” you shake your head and hand him your backpack, not feeling like rooting through for a pencil you knew you weren’t going to need because you were supposed to be doing essays today. you focus your attention back on angela, “i’m sorry. what were you saying?”
to you, the matter wasn’t that interesting. angela had been talking to some guy who went to syracuse and had said that he could get you into some party that weekend, but, to be honest, getting into a college party was dead last on your list of pressing matters.
the morning seemed to drag on forever and when it finally reached noon, you were rushing towards the doors so that you could make a phone call to your doctor’s office to schedule an appointment to confirm that you were indeed pregnant.
you were walking down the hallway when a call of your name stops you in your tracks. you turn and find griffin jogging towards you and he throws an arm around your shoulder, walking you towards the door, “what’s-”
“i, um, i saw the box in your bag when i grabbed a pencil this morning,” he says, lowering his voice so that no one would hear him. you stop in your tracks, but he keeps you moving, “no, don’t look weird. i’m not mad or anything. it’s really none of my business, but have you, like, confirmed it or whatever.”
“i’m going to when i leave here,” is all you can say. your heart was pounding so loudly you could hear it and you were almost positive that griffin could as well.
“ok. come over for dinner and we can talk about it. mom’s gonna make your favorite,” he stops in front of the door, the look on his face telling you that he would not be taking no for an answer. you swallow before nodding, “okay?”
“okay.”
you knew within a couple of hours after leaving griffin in the hallway that the test was correct, you were due to have a child soon. even as you stared at the paper with the test results, you still couldn’t find it in you to cry.
after dinner, spaghetti with homemade meatballs, griffin quickly rushed you to his bedroom, warding off ava who was trying to wrangle you into her bedroom to watch some movie that no one else wanted to watch. you take refuge on his bed, grabbing a pillow and shielding your stomach with it. griffin takes notice and he sighs, collapsing beside you, “so, we’re having a baby.”
“we are not. i’m having a baby,” you mumble in hopes that no one would hear the two of you, “i think. i don’t fucking know. i’ve got to tell the dad at some point-”
“you don’t have to act like i don’t know, y/n,” he looks up at the ceiling. you gulp and he grins, “i’m not oblivious. i know that you and trevor hooked up over the summer. is it his?”
your silence gives him his answer. it’s quiet for a few minutes before you speak up, “i didn’t mean to get pregnant. i swear.”
“i believe you, y/n. i’m not mad at you about hooking up with my brother or being pregnant. it’s weird, sure, but i’m not mad,” he assures and you nod, pulling at the sleeves of your shirt. “are you going to tell him?”
“i don’t even know if i’m going to-” you trail off and he nods in understanding. “i just- i want time to figure things out. that’s all i want right now. please don’t tell him or anyone. besides my doctor and the woman at the drug store, you’re the only person who knows.”
“this is not my secret to share.”
-
you honestly tried to tell him. you typed out the four short words that should have kickstarted the rest of your life: we need to talk, but you could never follow through with sending them. you would see his snapchat stories and instagram posts every now and then, having fun and living life in massachusetts while you were back in new york, pregnant with his child that he knew nothing about.
he was doing all right without you and you were getting along just fine without him.
as wrong as it was, it was easy to hide from him. he didn’t come home often and you had no reason to be in boston, so when he was around, you just made sure that you weren’t. your son was born in february while trevor was still at college. when he unexpectedly came home in march, it was even easier to keep it from him because you weren’t supposed to be going anywhere.
griffin had done well in keeping his promise. he only slipped and told one person, his mother, and you really couldn’t blame him. one simply did not keep a secret from julie zegras.
she wasn’t mad, just disappointed that you were trying to keep it a secret which you understood, and fell into the role of being a grandmother quite easily. after you had given birth with your mother by your side, she had come to meet her grandson. her finger rubbed over his cheek as she sat across from you.
“he looks just like him,” she muttered, “he’s going to know, y/n.”
and he did.
as much as you wanted to, there was absolutely no denying that landon was trevor’s son. griffin had thought the same thing when he saw him for the first time and gave you a look that told you as much, to which you responded with a whispered “please don’t.”
as the months continued to pass and summer quickly arrived in bedford, you still hadn’t uttered a word to trevor. he didn’t reach out to you and you worked overtime to avoid him. the more that landon grew, the easier it was beginning to be for those who didn’t already know to start to piece two and two together, which only increased the likelihood of trevor finding out significantly.
you had barely had time to put your car in park before julie was rushing out of the front door. she opens the door to the backseat and makes a pleased noise, “good. he’s awake.”
you open your door and watch as she gets the car seat out. you grab your bag and follow her inside, “he wanted to see his favorite person.”
“who? me?” griffin rounds the corner and walks into the kitchen just as julie sits the car seat on top of the counter. griffin waves his fingers at the baby, “hi buddy. did you miss me?”
landon makes a noise like he’s about to cry and you and julie share a look before bursting into laughter. julie undoes the clips and pulls him out, resting him on her hip as she fixes the little hair that he had atop his head, “don’t take it personally, griffin.”
“he cries every time he sees me. it’s a little hard not to,” he scoffs before looking at you, “guess what?”
“what? has using my child finally gotten you a date?” you tease, taking a seat at the island and crossing your arms over your chest.
“no. he’s got the potential to be an excellent wingman, but for some strange reason, seventeen-year-old girls don’t really like babies. you don’t count. you’re eighteen now and he’s your son. you have to like him,” he points an accusatory finger at you when you open your mouth to speak. you raise your hands in surrender, letting your eyes wander over to where julie was showing landon the magnets on the fridge. “anyway, we got landon a pool. minor issue though, louie kind of thinks that it’s for him because that’s what we had to tell trevor.”
“like a kiddie pool?” you ask and griffin clicks his tongue. you raise an eyebrow, sparing a glance towards your son when he squeals, “you know he’s not even five months old yet, right?”
“he can sit in it and splash around though. he loves doing that. i’ve bathed him before and it’s got to be his top three favorite activities along with eating and screaming at me,” griffin rolls his eyes and you smirk.
“i mean, he doesn’t have any of those swim diaper things-”
“and that’s exactly why we bought him some. don’t even try to argue with me right now, y/n. he is getting into the damn pool,” griffin argues and julie reaches over to smack him on the back of the head. “sorry, but you get my point.”
“i guess i do,” you stretch your arms before standing up. “let me go and change him.”
“i hid the diapers in the back of my closet,” you send griffin a questioning look. he shrugs, “i’m running out of places to hide baby things okay.”
you swallow thickly as a quietness takes over the room. you knew that you were asking a lot of them to keep such a big secret from their son and brother and that weighed heavily on you.
the silence is broken by landon who sputters and you grin as you take him from julie. you tickle his side and he giggles, “are you blowing bubbles, buddy? you’re so cool.”
he rests his head on your shoulder as you walk towards griffin’s room. his fingers curl in your shirt as he takes a deep breath. you find the diapers exactly where griffin had said they would be (along with what you were sure was going to be your birthday present and a few other questionable items) and lay landon down on griffin’s bed.
louie had slipped in behind you and had easily jumped on griffin’s bed as well, planting himself beside the four-month-old. his wet nose touches landon’s temple and he squeals in response. you push louie back gently, “careful, lou. i know he’s your person but you can’t be smelling him like that. it freaks him out.”
louie huffs but lays his head down regardless, watching you carefully. you take him out of his outfit and change his diaper for one of the swim ones. you blow a raspberry on his stomach and he grabs at your hair, “are you so excited to get in your pool?”
you heard some conversation coming from the kitchen and some footsteps heading towards where you were. you pick landon up, assuming that it was ava or griffin, and pat at louie’s head when he walks up to you. the door opens and you don’t turn around as you speak, “honestly griffin, if it’s any consolation, i think he dislikes louie as much as he dislikes you.”
when there’s no response, you turn around to find that it wasn’t griffin who was standing at the door. trevor’s eyes are almost blazing as he looks between you and landon, connecting the dots. you wrap your arm tighter around your son, “he’s not yours.”
“bullshit,” trevor booms and you look away. “if it’s not mine, whose is it then?”
“i-” you can’t even formulate a sentence and he scoffs.
“that’s what i thought,” he shakes his head and scoffs. you avoid his eyes, “when?”
“if we’re going to talk about this, can we please not do it in front of him,” you pull your son’s head into your shoulder, trying to shield him from the view of his father who was rightfully angry with you. “griffin was going to put him in the pool. let me take him out there and then you can go off on me.”
silently, he steps aside to let you walk back into the kitchen. julie and griffin are sharing the same nervous look as you round the corner. ava makes the unfortunate decision to come down the stairs at that point. “what’s going- uh-oh.”
“my god, is there anyone in this house that didn’t know besides me?” everyone’s silence gives him the answer to his question. “great, okay. the fucking dog knew before i did.”
“trevor-” julie starts and you shake your head.
you hand landon off to griffin who has a bottle of baby sunscreen in front of him. you rub at landon’s soft cheek as he looks at you curiously, knowing that your mood was off. you don’t look at griffin as you speak, “take pictures for me, yeah? he loves water.”
“of course,” griffin says before getting everyone to follow him outside. ava sends you a look and julie mouths an apology before the doors close and you’re left alone with trevor for — what you come to realize — is the first time in a year.
still not speaking to you, he starts up the stairs to his bedroom and you follow behind, shutting the door behind you. you stand there awkwardly, playing with your fingers as you look around. it hadn’t changed since the last time you had been in it, which was the night that you were almost certain you got pregnant.
he turns and looks at you, gesturing to his bed, “you can sit down. you’re not a stranger here.”
you know that it wasn’t meant to be a reference to what you two used to do, but your cheeks still burn as you sit on the edge of his bed. you look at him then, only to find him already staring at you. you shrug your shoulders, “what do you want to know?”
“it’s mine?” he asks again and you nod.
“he’s a boy, so please stop saying ‘it.’ call him landon if you want.”
“you always wanted a boy,” trevor mumbles and you couldn’t help but grin because it was true. ever since you were little you had said time and time again that you wanted at least one boy and even though he came earlier in your life than you had planned, you were grateful that he had. “when were you gonna tell me about him?”
“honestly, trev, never,” you say and he lets out a long breath. he takes a seat at his desk chair and rubs his hands over his face, “i thought that it was for the best-”
“keeping my son from me was what you thought was best?” he looks at you incredulously. “are you serious?”
“if you’re going to shout at me, i’m leaving. i understand that you’re upset and you have every right to be, but i’m not going to sit here and be yelled at,” you announce and he mumbles an apology under his breath. “be honest with me, trevor. are you ready to be a father right now? with everything going on in your life, are you ready for that responsibility at nineteen?”
he seems to think about it, “not really.”
“okay then. our problem is solved,” you shrug.
“y/n, i want my son to know me. he needs his dad.”
“you just said that you weren’t ready to be his dad, trevor. what’s the truth? because i’m not going to have you be in and out of his life whenever you pick and choose. that’s not good or stable for him. he’s four months old, what he needs is stability,” you never thought that at eighteen years old, you would be having a conversation about what was in the best interest of your child, but here you were.
“were you ready to be a mother at eighteen? no, but you got ready to be one. i can do it too if you’ll just let me,” he rolls his chair over in front of you and reaches for your hand. his hand was warm and so were his eyes as you looked into them, searching for any hint of untruthfulness.
you had known trevor and griffin since you were all babies, you in the middle age-wise given that trevor was a year older than you and griffin almost a year younger. you had grown up neighbors and while you had moved a few miles away, your friendship remained. you had grown closer with griffin rather than trevor because as he had gotten older and his talent showed more and more, he was gone more.
“do you want to meet him?” is your rebuttal and trevor wastes no time in nodding his head. he pushes himself away from you which allows you to stand and walk towards his door. “just be aware he doesn’t really care for strangers. he’s still warming up to griffin.”
he follows you down the stairs and out onto the back porch. julie and griffin are there along with louie who is staring curiously at landon. griffin looks at you and smirks, “he doesn’t understand why he’s having to share the pool.”
“he’s greedy,” you shake your head before squatting down beside your son. you grin at him as he splashed his hand in the water, “hi bubba. there’s someone i want you to meet.”
he makes a shrill noise as you pick him up. you accept a towel from julie to dry him off as you walk over to where trevor had taken a seat on the bench. you sit beside him, adjusting landon’s hat on his head, “landon, this is trevor. trevor, this is landon.”
“hi,” trevor says, the biggest grin that you had ever seen taking over his face. landon looks between you and trevor before flailing his arm around. trevor looks at you uncertainly, “could i hold him?”
“of course,” you grin. you carefully hand landon over, holding your breath for his reaction. trevor stands him up on his legs, bouncing him just slightly. landon starts to pout and you frown, “he’s-”
“hey landon,” trevor says quietly and landon tilts his head. his hand squeezes the bracelet on trevor’s wrist. he starts to move his legs and trevor looks at you confused.
“he likes you, i think. strangers don’t usually make it this far,” you shrug your shoulders.
“that’s good then,” he smiles. landon lurches forward and he’s quick to steady him. “he looks just like me.”
“you are his dad, trev,” you look at trevor to gauge his reaction. you can hear julie when she takes a deep breath griffin laugh, but you focus on trevor.
“yeah, i am,” trevor laughs. to your surprise, landon lays his head on trevor’s shoulder and trevor looks at you again, “i think he likes me.”
griffin doesn’t miss a beat before chiming in, “well that’s just not fucking fair. i’ve known him longer than you!”
-
the anaheim conversation wasn’t one that you could avoid. it’s not that you were trying to, of course, it’s just that in the two weeks since trevor had known about his son, he had been solely focused on learning him and letting landon get acclimated to him being around, which the five-month-old had done quickly.
“so,” trevor asks one day as landon lays on his chest, knocked out for his afternoon nap. you had warned trevor about letting landon fall asleep on him, but trevor didn’t seem to mind being glued to one place for a couple of hours. “what about college? where are you going?”
“nowhere yet,” you sigh, turning your attention away from the movie that was playing, “i’m taking some time off so that i can raise him. i know that if i started now, i wouldn’t be able to focus and give him the attention that he needs.”
“that’s responsible,” he makes a face.
“i had to grow up fast, trevor. it’s not just me that my decisions affect now. i have to make the decisions that i think are best for him in the long run,” you stare at your son curled on his father’s chest. his fingers gripped the fabric of trevor’s t-shirt as a pacifier bobbed between his lips.
“well, i’ve been thinking and i want to get your opinion on something,” he was nervous, you could tell. his hand rubs up landon’s back as he looks towards you, “i- well, i know that two weeks ago i didn’t even know that he existed, but now i can’t imagine not being with him.”
“well he’s your son trevor,” you curl your toes into his thigh under the blanket you were sharing, “that’s normal.”
“i know that, but i don’t want to be away from him. what i’m asking is, would you be willing to come to anaheim with me when i go? whenever that may be,” he chuckles as landon twitches in his sleep.
“you want him to go with you? trevor i can’t-”
“no, no,” trevor shakes his head, “i want him to come with me of course, but i want you to come, too. i want you both with me. we can be together, a family.”
“a family?” you repeat and he grins, confirming with a nod. “are you sure?”
“i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, y/n. i want to have a life with you,” the hand that rested on landon’s back moves and reaches out towards you. you grab onto his hand and he squeezes, “what do you think?”
“i think that sounds amazing.”
and for a while it did.
both your mother and trevor’s were hesitant given how young you both were, but they slowly came to terms when they figured out neither of you were changing your minds.
you made it to anaheim a few weeks after trevor had and began to settle into the apartment he had gotten for the two of you. it was in a safe place and it had paths to take landon on walks which were at the top of the list that you had given him.
landon loved going down to the beach and letting the sand fall through his fingers. your heart swelled every time he would pick some up and look at you like it was the most amazing thing in the world, which to him it probably was.
your time was mostly spent with landon alone which you couldn’t be upset about because a major part of trevor’s job was to travel, but when he started spending his nights elsewhere when he wasn’t gone on a road trip, that’s when things started falling apart.
you didn’t want to be the partner who asked him where he going every time that he left out of the front door, but when you had to watch him get ready for the third night in a row, that’s when you spoke up, “where are you going?”
“out,” was his response. he pulls out a jacket from the closet and turned to look at you, “why?”
“because you’ve been home for four days and you’ve gone out every night, trevor,” you lean against the doorway as he slips on his shoes. “i shouldn’t have to ask you to stay home and see your son.”
“he’s asleep, y/n. he’s not even going to notice that i’m gone,” he shakes his head and you let him leave the bedroom before following him down the hall. “it’s not that big of a deal.”
“it is when you don’t come back until the morning and you leave before he wakes up. then you come back during his nap and only see him for a few hours before you’re gone again,” your eyes follow his fingers as they grab his keys from the hook. he pulls open the door and you utter the words that make your stomach twist, “i promise you, if you walk out of that door, i’m not going to be here when you get back.”
he gives you his attention then and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he was thinking about it, whether you were serious or not, but not a moment later does he shake his head and let the door close behind him, letting you know his decision.
you could hear his car door slam before he starts the engine, pulling out of the driveway to wherever the hell he would rather spend his time. you stand there frozen as your world crumbles around you. you feel the tears well up in your eyes and you wipe them away.
he wasn’t worth it.
you grab your phone, dialing your mother’s number and leaning against the couch for stability. she answers almost immediately and you feel bad because you still had not adjusted to the time difference between the east and west coasts, “can i come home for a little bit?”
“what happened?” you hear her rustling in the background.
“i’m just- i’m tired mom. i don’t want to be here anymore and i’m sure he doesn’t want us here either,” you leave out the major details, knowing what it would do to her. you really were not in the mood to hear her tell you that she was right.
“let me catch a flight out there and i’ll drive back with you, okay?”
“i need to leave now, mom. i don’t want to be here when he gets back,” you explain, and after much back and forth and though apprehensively, she agrees not to book a flight.
you don’t feel anything as you pack your bag, careful not to mess with trevor’s things. it’s when you walk into landon’s room and find him sleeping so peacefully, so unaware of what was happening in his little world that you let the tears fall down your face. you pack your car before you get him out of his crib, making sure to grab his favorite stuffed animal and blanket before closing the door behind you. you walk through the kitchen making sure that you had what you needed before walking out of the front door for the last time.
you didn’t leave a note, your key and a pacifier on the kitchen counter was the only goodbye that he would get from you.
you were thankful that landon was a heavy sleeper. he barely stirred as you buckled him into his car seat or shut the door. you put in your mother’s home address before putting your car in reverse.
you were almost to colorado when your phone started ringing, his name popping up at the top of your screen. you couldn’t block him until you stopped for breakfast, not reading any of the texts he had sent or listening to any of the voicemails he left.
landon laughs as you feed him a bite of pancake, throwing a crayon on the ground. you set your phone down and look at him with a smile, wondering how something so sweet could just make you forget everything wrong in your life.
-
you swallow, “why do you think that i left, trevor?”
“i don’t know, y/n. i’ve been asking myself that question for a week now and i can’t come up with an answer that makes sense. we were fine and then you were gone,” he looks confused and hurt, emotions that you had grown to know all too well. emotions that he himself had caused.
“you can’t be serious,” you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “how long did you think i’d let it go on? or are you just that full of yourself that you didn’t even see what you were doing to us? what you were doing to your son?”
“i don’t understand-”
“when you found out about landon, you made a promise to me that you would be a father, that it would take some time, and i believed you. i left everything to follow you to anaheim when you asked me to so that we could be together as a family, but it was the worst mistake that i have ever made,” you go quiet as your coffee is sat in front of you. you don’t touch the sandwich. “you genuinely can’t think that i was going to stay with the way that you were behaving.
“you have a child, trevor. you can’t just come and go as you please. every decision that you make, it affects him even when it doesn’t seem like it. that was something that i had to learn quickly.
“i was eighteen when he was born. i missed out on my entire senior year and going to college with my friends to raise him and i didn’t complain, not once. you got to have a senior year. you got to go to college without having to worry about someone else. you were one-track-minded on playing hockey, but that should’ve changed the moment that you found out about landon. instead, you decide to fuck off with your friends to new hampshire instead of going to your son’s doctor’s appointment and you didn’t even tell me. i had to find out from your mom when you wouldn’t answer my phone calls, trevor,” you scoff, looking at the wall behind him, “i should’ve backed out then.”
“i’m twenty years old, y/n,” he looks at you like he was shocked at your admission. “i want to go out and have fun.”
“and you think that i don’t? you aren’t understanding, trevor. we have a child. he depends on us. we can’t just run around and be kids anymore, we have a gigantic responsibility. you don’t get to stop being a parent just because going out with your teammates is more fun. believe me, i would love to go out with my friends whenever i wanted to, but i can’t.”
“i have to establish myself-”
“was it worth losing your family?” you ask and he freezes. you raise an eyebrow, “was going out for drinks and to play video games with your teammates worth losing your family, trevor? i want to know.”
“what do you mean ‘losing my family’?”
“did you think that i was going to come back and pretend like nothing happened? that we could just go on with our lives?” he gives you a ‘duh’ look. “i know you. if i did come back, you would keep doing the same shit and we would keep fighting. it’s a vicious fucking cycle and that’s not the environment that i want my son to grow up in and you shouldn’t want that for him either.
“i promise that i’m not going to keep him from you, i would never do that. i know that you love him and he loves you too, but i think that it’s in his best interest that we don’t play pretend because that’s going to mess him up in the long run.”
“so that’s it then?” he asks.
“the only thing changing is that i’m not going to be there when you get home-”
he interrupts you with an annoyed look, “or that we’re together.”
“were we ever together? or were we just fuck buddies who put on a show for everyone?” you ask and he avoids your eyes. “deep down, you have to know that we’re no good for each other and this is for the best. i’m not trying to hurt you, but you’re not ready for this and that’s obvious.”
he watches you as you push your chair back and grab your things, “what do you want me to do then? if you’re staying here.”
you spare him a final glance as you shrug your shoulder, “trevor, what i want is for you to figure your shit out, but i’m just tired of waiting for you to do it. you wanted your freedom and i’m giving it to you. have fun, trev. be twenty. that’s what you’ve always wanted to do anyway and now you don’t have us to worry about anymore.”
though you weren’t even sure that he ever did.
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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years
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Kip v Age of Calamity
For someone who writes tough shit on Age of Calamity, you sure don’t see me writing a better story. So maybe I should stop complaining and be satisfied with what was given to me. 
...or...
...maybe we can dedicated a few hours of my time to spite an ask. 
Even though the entire argument of “why are you mad if you can’t write a story yourself” is inherently flawed and pointless considering that’s the equivalent of telling me I should chug spoiled milk because I’ve never milked a cow, I’ll fucking step up to the plate here, I’ll put my money where my mouth is. 
So here is Part 1 of your residential Kip approved rewrite of Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity. Or as I like to call it: 
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Ok so before I get into it, a couple things I wanna establish. First, I know I just said I’m doing this out of spite, but I’m actually also doing this for fun. I really enjoy and am passionate about the writing process, so if you were looking for an angry rant about how terrible everyone’s opinions are about everything, this isn’t that. I don’t think that I am a better writer than anyone, or than the professionals that made this game, or that I am somehow superior to Nintendo. I am someone with the benefit of hindsight, I don’t have the constraints of producers and mandated directives and executives rubbing their hands in the story to make it more marketable or dumbed down or any of the other chaos that goes into crafting a videogame. So while obviously I think the people involved in this could have done a much better job, this isn’t a bash to say, “look how easy it is to make a story” because there’s a ton of unseen drama that goes into development that I have the luxury of avoiding, and it’s a miracle that any games are coherent and enjoyable in the first place. I’m just a lil Kip doing a fun lil exercise. 
This little series is also not going to be a fanfic. I’m going to be telling the story chronologically as if you were playing for yourself, but it’s going to be from my omniscient perspective because 1) I need to relate the story to the gameplay 2) That would take way too much time to actually make this into a fanfiction as it already takes a hell of a lot of time to even plan out the beats of this rewrite and 3) This is less going to be a telling of a story, and more of a fun little exploration on the Three Act Structure and The Hero’s Journey. In fact, I am going to try and keep the given story of Age of Calamity as intact as possible. 
The general ending is going to be the same, the characters used are going to remain roughly unchanged, (there will be no new characters, or removal of characters) and characters that live or die and where they end up are going to be mostly the same with how the original game is written. I know, I know, we all would love to see the Champions die brutally or to get us that sweet sweet Link angst or to have a game with multiple endings. And even though I personally would change some of those premises in Age of Calamity, I’m going to strive to keep it all as intact as possible, just to prove wrong the misconception that the story was only bad because of the writer’s choices for the general arc. I am a firm believer that biggest weaknesses of this game are in its methods of conveying its story, a problem in the storytelling process, and not (necessarily/only) the story product itself. 
If you want to use any of the ideas that I present, go for it! I release them into the public domain, I have no plans whatsoever to write a fanfic for this myself, in fact I already have my own separate Pre-Botw fic story that I am pouring myself into, so I give the people full permission to take these ideas off of me. 
Alrighty! With all that out of the way, let’s get into:
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HERE IS THE VERSION IN A GOOGLE DOC FORM BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES YOU MOBILE PEEPS
Spoilers! Obviously. I’m going to act on the assumption that you know the full story of Age of Calamity to save myself some time, capiche?
Ok so we start out the game roughly the same, with eggbot being chased and forced to time travel into a portal. But, there is going to be some important differences in details. 
We have the part of the scene where Zelda awakens her powers, and at the same time, something else in Hyrule Castle glows with the same aura. However, this glow is not coming from the Princess’ Tower, but instead, the camera pulls back from the fields of Fort Hateno, sweeps over Hyrule (where you can see the Guardians and the sense of destruction and all that) and the camera eventually flies over Castle Town, then within the Castle, weaving through the halls, until the camera stop and focuses on the entrance of a destroyed room, slowly creeping in. It’s a room that’s been demolished, stone rubble from Guardian blasts ruin the floor and cave in from the ceiling, there’s a small fire in the corners of the room, and from the props that you can make out, it seems to look like some study or office of some sort. The room is small, but domed and circular, signifying that it’s of a bit more importance than you might think . The desks and books and all buried beneath this collapsed stone brick. But as the camera focuses on that pile of rocks, from within that rubble, you see that same glowing aura that Zelda has, glowing brighter and brighter until finally out pops, eggbot.
Now, you can have that same sequence within the game where he runs around all cute, the outter wall of the room is broken so eggbot can look outside and see the Calamity’s destruction. Then that cut to Zelda saying “I want to save...everyone,” and this is important because I need the fade in between Zelda’s line and the fade back to eggbot to wordlessly imply that he is hearing these words, something that’s already done pretty well in the original cutscene. Anyhow, then the Guardian Stalker pops from behind, prepares to shoot, and eggbot can escape into its little time portal, and then the malice follows or whatever.  
However, I’m not gonna immediately cut to the title, but instead, we have the music build to eggbot’s little jump in a pretty climactic way. But then the music still lingers slightly, and rests in suspense, camera is still looking out the window where eggbot jumped. It pulls back, turning back into this room that eggbot emerged from. Music is still relatively silent. Then, from the corner, you see some of the fire suddenly catch onto something. Flattened between the rocky rubble, just a few feet where eggbot emerged, is a purple cloak, trimmed with gold, flapping just slightly in the wind. [Said flapping being what causes it to catch] The fire catches, burning through the cloak, and underneath it, is a fallen copy of the Sheikah tapestry of 10k years ago. Camera zooms into that art of the Calamity, music suspends, merge to title card, then the music hits that climax and BOOM, “Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity.” Main Theme plays. Let the opening title roll.
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Now the reason I changed this slightly is because 1) I wanted to earlier set up some of the plot points that I have planned for this (some of which you might already guess or maybe not who knows *wink wink*) and 2) I think that the original opening could have been much stronger with its hook. Yes, the element of mystery is established with eggbot’s existence and that element of time travel, but then the opening immediately goes into saying “This is the tale of champions, a diminutive Guardian who traveled backwards through time, and the Great Calamity they faced.” So...you just dampened that hook you established two seconds ago because you explained it all. Sure, it doesn’t completely ruin it, but I think the impact would be much stronger if that text wasn’t there at all, and the music and hype of the tapestry moving and coming alive is all there was. I’d much rather that element of time travel just be explained through the cinematography itself, because you can already understand that perfectly with that scene where you see the portal lead into birds flying around a beautiful Hyrule Castle.
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Also, the music in this game is fantastic! So letting moments that really let you soak it in, I think would be very beneficial. So now this scene serves as a much more effective hook before we get into the actual plot. The mystery of eggbot’s identity is heightened and left a bit more unexplained, you have this mysterious circular room that you’ve never seen before, and the set up of details that will eventually serve later revelations in the plot, cough cough. 
Then you hit Chapter 1, Link gameplay, eggbot and the tower, that’s all the same. I got no changes for the story there, it’s a great introduction. However! I know my strength here is writing and I am by no means a game developer or designer, but I need, I absolutely need to add one aspect to the gameplay.
Near the end of the first stage, where there are those three moblins at the end, I want to add something that I’m going to call, a gambit. The game already introduced you to the special meter and “press a to use special attack” thing, but I want Impa and Link to use a gambit to defeat this last horde of moblins. Essentially, you press A to use your special attack, BUT, if another character is in proximity, the attack is even more powerful. Every pair of characters has a special little attack, that does tons of damage, and during said sequence, there are voiced lines, or at the very very least text boxes that comment on it. And with this gambit, while a regular solo special attack still does a lot of damage, I’m gonna nerf it slightly to encourage players to use this gambit feature. 
Now, why did I add this? Because I need to better connect this gameplay to the story on more than an external “lets defeat this and go from point A to point B” type of way. I need something in the gameplay to better serve to the game’s main theme of “teamwork makes the dreamwork” and all that. The CURRENT gameplay, although absolutely fun and fantastic, just doesn’t do this. I need just one element to serve this theme while ALSO having the dual purpose of serving as character interaction. The current structure of Age of Calamity works where the sidequests and battle serve as your character interaction, development, and banter, while the cutscenes serve the main story beats, and important plot revelations. The cutscenes just aren’t crafted to support the weight of these dozens of characters while also giving them all interesting interactions, and that’s fine! So I’m just adding this feature to the gameplay, because being able to customize different lines for different characters for different stages that are voiced will go a long way into making the character development seem more fleshed out. And this gambit feature doesn’t necessarily change the way you play the game drastically, as you can still have four character slots and have them split up to take on the battlefield, but now you can split them off into groups of 2. And also, because I’m not completely blind to game design, the damage percentage boost of these gambit attacks will not increase as much, just slightly lower, than the damage boost of a solo attack when you level up. So what I mean is, when your character is weaker level, you are forced to rely on others in order to defeat your enemies, but, with the way the leveling up percents work, your characters can still reach a point where they can defeat big bosses all on their own without gambits. THAT way, when certain events happen in later chapters, when your character is all leveled up, (and maybe they awaken a sacred power or two) it feels all the more powerful when you can go off on your own. You can feel how your character has grown in strength because you can contrast it with your teamwork gameplay of earlier levels. AND it still highlights the importance of that theme of companionship, because you would never have gotten to this level of strength had you not relied on your friends. 
OK, so the stage 1 ends with a gambit attack, Impa compliments Link’s fighting style or something that shows her admiration or respect for him. And then stage 2 for the Road to the Royal Lab is the same, but gambit dialogue for that stage is Impa complimenting Link, Impa being protective of Zelda, and since this is Zelda’s first playable area, Zelda’s gambit lines can be about kinda brushing Link aside like “I want to capable to hold my own in battle but thank you” to Link (cause I never really got that same “I don’t really like you” vibe that is established in botw for this game) and then to Impa Zelda’s gambit lines can be like “is this thrill what you always feel when battling?” and Impa is like “yeah isn’t it great we should do it more often!” and then you can allude to that with a sidequest for Zelda’s training or something. I just want to better connect sidequest stories with this stuff. And also, gambits are obviously optional so that’s why this is all just banter and character development and not actually plot points, and I’m going to stick with just one-on-one dialogue, although it should be theoretically possible to have gambit boosts of three and four, but I feel that would be too much as I don’t want to ruin the gameplay balance and encourage you to keep all four character slots close together, because splitting them up is an important part of the game. Anyhow!
So Chapter 1 is done, my changes being almost purely in the gameplay because this is the start of the story and the character set up is important. Chapter 1 to Chapter 2 is basically the establishment of the ordinary world, and in the Three Act Structure it’s basically Act 1. Act 1 is all about set up. I need to really focus this chapter on both introducing the player to the mechanics of the game, having them connect to the characters and the characters connect to each other through the gameplay, and I need to establish this tone so that when I rip it away, and change the tone during the threshold, it feels more meaningful and suspenseful. 
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As you can see from the diagrams, Act 1 has something called the Inciting Incident. The Inciting Incident is going to be the Yiga attack in Chapter 2, where our heroes first experience the true dangers of their journey, and there is no turning back. BUT I’m getting ahead of myself.
Chapter 2 is also exactly the same. I would literally change nothing about the Champion’s sections (other than my addition of gambit interaction of course) because they’re all pretty great. For the record, yes, evil egg is still a thing, and yes, Zelda and the gang can still discover those pictures of the Calamity in eggbot, yes you beat up Revali, and the Divine Beast sequences are the same. I just really need that gambit dialogue to help establish character relations. Revali quips at Link, Mipha protects him, Daruk is his buddy [I thought a cool gambit attack for Link and Daruk to better show that they are old friends could be them both chewing down on some rocks, before striking an enemy simultaneously. Because they never eat rocks together and I just want this ok] Kohga is the same, Sooga is the same, BUT, for that scene when you first meet Astor in the Yiga base, I need two things to happen. 1) The camera reveal for Astor starts at his cloak, which is intact and NOT tattered like how his design is in game. It’s a deep purple with gold trim, the camera pans up to the back of Astor’s head. Now 2) When the camera moves to look at Astors face, I need him to be standing in front of and staring solemnly at the evil eggbot. He’s frowning, and his eyes suggest something like he’s deep in thought of something in the distant past. That’s how the scene starts, and in the background is Kohga recounting the events of his failure to beat Urbosa and the gang. Then, Kohga can say something funny to annoy him, Astor’s face changes to your classic villain disgust. Then, he can get a bit pissed and go on his little rant about how pathetic the Yiga are and how the Calamity is trapped within the evil eggbot and how he will use his powers to end the Kingdom of Hyrule. Then he can take his little astrolabe and be all “My harbinger, show me the future!” and all that. IMPORTANT LINE CHANGE,  Astor’s motivation here is not “The future, as it will and must be. I will not allow anyone to alter its course.” Instead, I need to tweak it slightly to be, “The future, as it was fated to always be. The pathetic stories and legends of children and false kings cannot waver this course. I will not allow it, for my sake…” camera pans to the broken evil guardian, Astor’s voice lowers just slightly. “...and yours.” The slightest, almost silent bits of the harmonies (not the melody) of the Hwaoc Main Theme play before fully fading back to Astor’s theme. And the final shot of that scene is Astor, looking down at the heap of Sheikah tech, with a neutral expression, but then looking back up at the malice stars, and the future visions of the Calamity. He just ever so slightly smiles. 
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[Also I JUST realized that the harbinger is actually slightly above Astor, because it’s supposed to show that the power dynamic is really Calamity Ganon is in control, so ignore the “looking down” parts I talked about, and just think in the broad direction of Astor looks at the guardian, and then looks further up at the ceiling with the Calamity and the future and then he smiles]
For that scene, I also need to remove any characterization where Astor is laughing and being joyous at the impending destruction, I only need that smile at the end. There is no villainous cartoon laughter, at least, not yet. Also the part where Sooga calls Astor a fool for thinking he can control the Calamity is GREAT I need that, that absolutely needs to stay in.
And then Chapter 2 closes off with that Yiga ambush. That’s the inciting incident, so I need the tone at the end to be slightly different. Instead of ending on that cute little thing where eggbot points angrily at Link, (like that part can still EXIST in there BUT) I need it to end on a more serious note. 
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Referring back to the Hero’s Journey, the Call to Adventure is the parts of each of the Champion’s recruitment. They each have their initial reasons for joining the fight, whether to protect their people, to feel validated for their skill, to get closer to the ones they love etc etc that’s all established in their respective stages.
This Yiga stage, however, serves as the official barrier between Act 1 and Act 2, the threshold between the known world and the unknown world, where the heroes prepare to seek out the obstacle that stands in the way of their goal. It’s important that this threshold establishes a sense of urgency, because that better gets you invested in the stakes, and helps the story's momentum to move forward. IT shows that the journey and adventure that these characters want/need to take is outside the safety of their home/known world.
In the original game, the threshold ends with that cute scene of eggbot and Zelda and Link and the Zelink vibes. That’s not bad, but it’s also not good. The momentum towards the later confrontation in Korok forest needs to feel more important, because this is a major turning point in the story. SO, I am going to add one more scene at the end. It’s just after the ambush, after the fires have died down, and Zelda (and in the back the Champions) discussing the events with the King. I want King Rhoam to a few things. First, I need him to kinda berate the Champions for falling for the Yiga’s “splitting them up trick” and leaving his daughter vulnerable. This 1) establishes doubt within the party, which makes for better uncertainty for the future and later internal conflict. This was supposed to be the dream team but the King is already kinda telling them off. 2) This also still characterizes the King as someone who cares for his daughter’s safety. That care for his daughters safety is layered in the subtext of him saying something like “Your priority must be to protect the only person capable of sealing the Calamity. You were so concerned with victory and glory in battle that you forgot that the fate of this kingdom lies on my daughter’s survival.” and blah blah blah. The King can also congratulate Link for keeping Zelda safe, and this is GREAT because that can add further to Zelda’s slight resentment for him, as he’s getting the approval from the King that she has yet to receive. But like overall the King is like “don’t leave my daughter alone cause she almost got killed if it weren’t for Link wtf.” and then that can also be a further excuse to hurry to korok forest to find the wielder of the sword so that they can better protect “not just the Princess, but the entire world,” something something fancy kingly dialogue. 
Also when the Champions leave THIS can also be the time where Zelda gives that Sheikah device thingy to Rhoam and also where he sees eggbot. I know that happens a bit later, but for pacing purposes and for the sake of the story changes that I made, it better serves to place it here. That interaction itself can stay mostly the same as it is in the game.
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So now, the threshold ends with a bit more tension. The Champion squad is powerful, but also has flaws in how they were split up by the Yiga, (cough cough I wonder if that serves the themes of the game in some way cough cough) and it’s not just “smooth sailing” into the search for the Master Sword, and the stakes are a bit rocky as we finally enter into the story’s Act 2.
= = = = = 
And that’s Part 1 of my rewrite. Not really a lot, cause again this is mainly character set up, and establishing stuff, but personally I think it’s already a bit stronger than how Age of Calamity did it. Stay tuned for Part 2 either tonight or tomorrow, mwahaha. 
Predict the future if you can...
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Text
The Little Things in Life - 4
Warnings: cheating, non-consent sex (series); not the sex you’re expecting but it’s the sex you get.
This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.
Series Summary: Your suburban life begins to show cracks and your next door neighbour, Steve Rogers, seems intent on shattering what’s left.
Note: So I didn’t write at all yesterday. Dunno if I will today. My anxiety’s through the roof and I’m sorry to everyone waiting on different things. I see the asks and I’m doing my best. TBH I’m not in the greatest head space but I have up to part 5 done on this. Thanks to everyone for their feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
Based on this drabble
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Your escape from the garage was uneventful. You beat Steve in the fourth match and excused yourself to the washroom. You hid in there for some time. You stared in the mirror at your glossy eyes. You didn’t look like yourself. You didn’t feel like yourself.
You were careful to avoid Steve for the rest of the night. He didn’t make it easy. Neither did Sharon. She found you in the beach chair staring at the water, a perfect excuse for her husband to get closer. Her husband.
Had you encouraged Steve without knowing? Been too friendly? Well, you would never expect the golden saviour of New York to betray his own wife. His perfect wife! Her blond hair, her long legs, her crystalline eyes. She was his match in everything and he could just do that. And what did you do but whine a little bit?
You found your husband among the crowd and cringed. He was cheating on you. And you just sat there and did nothing. Fucking his boss! Never home to help with Kayla; the most you could get out of him when he was was twenty minutes of distraction. Enough to do the dishes or vacuum the living room. You hated him. But you still loved him.
You dragged Logan home just after midnight. He was worse off than you. You barely got him up the stairs as he slung himself over your shoulder. He was heavy. He flopped face first into bed, sprawled diagonal across it. You turned his head over the edge and set a bucket beside him.
You slept on the couch. Twenty minutes before you awoke with vertigo and stumbled your way to the bathroom to spill your guts. It burned terribly and you felt as if your chest would collapse with each wretch. You fell back onto the cushions with a grunt and sank into an alcohol-laced slumber.
You woke to a nail in your skull. You sat up and it pushed deeper. You felt awful. Dirty. You looked in on Logan, snoring loudly into the pillow. You showered with a bottle of Tylenol and forced down a tall glass of filtered water. Your phone nearly burst your eardrums as it rang and you picked it up frantically before your head began to buzz again.
It was your mother. She was on her way to the McDonald’s in town. She wanted to take Kayla to the play place. You offered to meet her there to relieve her of her babysitting shift. You drove with sunglasses on and the radio off.
You were thankful when you arrived to Kayla already lost in the plastic tubes. You sat with your mother who shoved a mcmuffin in your direction. You took a gulp of coffee and scarfed down the sandwich.
“Jeez, this reminds me of your college days,” Your mother chided. “Sweats, sunglasses… wild night?”
“Long week,” You groaned and leaned on your elbow as you looked over at the playplace. “How was she?”
“An angel. As usual.” She said. “She was telling me about her friend Steve.”
“Our neighbour,” You mumbled into your coffee. “He’s… nice to her.”
“And you?” Your mother prodded.
You were silent as you set down your cup. You pushed up your sunglasses and rubbed away the dampness around your eyes with your knuckles. You’d not even known you were crying.
“What is it?” She reached across the table.
“Logan…” You sniffed. “He’s sleeping with his boss.”
“No,” Your mother’s breath wisped out of her. “Oh, honey.”
“I saw them a couple days ago and… I don’t know what to do. What to say.” You flipped your glasses back down. “I’m fucking pissed but I’m so fucking terrified.”
“How could he--” You mother huffed. “You know what I would do.”
“Yeah, mum,” You scoffed. “A kick in the balls?”
“And more,” She sneered. “Say the word and I’m going over right now and knocking him--”
“No, no,” You raised your hand. “I’ll… handle it. I just… I’m processing.”
You played with the string of your sweats as you crossed your legs. You thought of Steve and the pool table. You should tell her, but what would you say? You let another man finger you because you were mad at your husband? Two wrongs...
“You know, the guest room’s always open.” Your mother said. “For you and Kayla.”
“Kayla,” You uttered. “I couldn’t… you think he’d take her from me.”
“And what? Sounds to me like he’s so busy messing around, he doesn’t have time for either of you.” She rolled her eyes. “She told me he’s never home. That he’s always on his phone.”
“She’s too honest for her own good,” You shook your head. “Too innocent. I don’t know if I could put her through that.”
“And let her live with festering resent?” Your mother argued. “Look, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but you can’t do nothing.”
“I know,” You emptied your coffee and picked up a cold hash brown. “Just… don’t say anything.”
“To who?” She asked. “My walls.”
🏠
You pulled up to the house as Kayla played with the little elephant she’d gotten with her meal. As you climbed out and unbuckled her, you spied a familiar figure from your peripheral. You ignored it as you grabbed her bag and helped her out onto the pavement. You closed the door as you tried to keep your daughter on the other side of you.
“Steve!” Kayla peeked past you and waved to your neighbour.
“Kayla, come on,” You tried to nudge her up the walk but Steve was already on his way across the street.
“Hey, you guys,” You turned to him as Kayla ran forward to hug his leg. “Early morning. Surprised you made it past the front door.”
“Yeah,” You kept your eyes averted behind your shades. “Kayla, come on. We gotta go.”
“What’s the plan for today?” Steve asked as you reached for your daughter.
“Family time,” You said tersely. 
“Mommy said I can paint butterflies on my wall!” Kayla said.
“Ooh, that sounds fun,” He smiled but barely looked at the girl. His eyes were set on you. 
“Kayla,” You pulled her towards the door and unlocked it. “Your father’s upstairs. Go wake him up. I’ll be in in just a second.”
“But I wanna talk to Steve,” She argued.
“Go inside,” You opened the door and waved her in. “You go right upstairs and get your dad.”
She pouted but did as you said. You watch her amble up the carpeted stairs and you turned back to Steve as you heard her calling to Logan. You closed the door and stormed back towards him.
“Look, what happened last night was wrong and I never want to talk about it again,” You hissed. “And… I don’t want to talk to you.”
He smiled and shook his head.
“As far as I could tell you liked it. Wanted it.” He crossed his arms. “You’re just too afraid to admit it.”
“I have a husband.” You snarled.
“Who’d rather fuck some crusty lady in a pants suit than you,” He challenged.
“You have a wife. A newborn.” You scowled. 
“I’ve learned a lot of things since I woke up in a whole new century. New lingo.” He tilted his head. “I’m sure you know what a ‘trophy wife’ is.”
“Is that what she is? Maybe you should tell her that.”
“Me and Sharon look good for the public. And for work. Suits never would’ve let me marry a civilian. We make a great little family.” He shrugged. “I gave her a baby. She got what she wanted and so did SHIELD.”
“I don’t believe you,” You said.
“I don’t care if you do. Sharon’s going back within the year. She misses the field. She misses a certain intelligence officer.” Steve said coolly. “It won’t be long before… well.”
“Listen, stay away from me.” You backed away from him. “I have enough going on.” You turned and grasped the door handle, paused as you looked back at him. “I can’t believe you. I really thought you were someone else.”
“Hey, I never said the propaganda wasn’t effective,” He winked. “I’ll see you around.”
You pushed inside and quickly closed the door. You pulled back the narrow curtain to look out through the frosted glass of the door. Steve’s hazy figure lingered until finally he retreated. Kayla’s voice drew you away.
“Mommy,” She called down the stairs. “Daddy’s sick.”
🏠
Logan was in bed for most of the day “recovering”. You left him to his sulking and helped Kayla paint her butterflies. The few times you passed by the room, you peeked through the small space between the door and the frame. He had his phone out. You could guess who he was texting. If you asked, he’d say work and it wouldn’t be an all out lie.
You put Kayla to bed and spent an hour in the living room watching re-runs before you found the nerve to go upstairs. Logan had a video running on his phone about homemade axes or some nonsense. You changed into a long tee and climbed into bed. You turned your back to him and closed your eyes.
“Sorry, babe,” He tickled your spine. “I drank way too much yesterday.”
“Mhmm,” You grumbled.
“You mad?” He asked.
“No,” You lied. “Hungover.”
“I should’ve helped with Kayla today,” He moped.
“So why didn’t you?” You snapped.
“You are mad.” He said.
Not about that, you thought. 
“I’m just tired.” You said.
“Next weekend, we’ll do something with Kayla together.” He coaxed. “Take her to the aquarium. Oh, and Steve texted me. Him and Sharon want us to come over for dinner on Thursday. I told him I’d try to move some things around at work.”
“Thursday,” You repeated. “Alright.”
“You sure you’re okay?” His hand strayed to your hip. 
“I just need to sleep it off,” You tapped his hand. “I’m fine.”
🏠
You woke up not shortly after you fell asleep. It was dark and the bed next to you was empty. You sat up and checked the time. It wasn’t even one in the morning. A slat of light escaped from your attached bathroom and you threw your legs over the edge of the mattress.
You tiptoed to the door and peered in. Logan was naked before the mirror as he held up his phone to take a picture. You wanted to scoff at how he flexed. He wasn’t as fit as he used to be, but neither were you. He snapped the pic and sent it with a devious grin. You saw his screen flash with a response shortly after. 
You felt the air rush out of you but could only back away and slink back to bed. It was ten minutes before he returned. He crawled under the blanket and pressed himself to your back. He was hard. His hand tickled your thigh and he played with the hem of your tee shirt.
“Babe,” He cooed gently. “Babe…” He continued as until you pretended to stir. “I forgot to tell you how great you looked yesterday in those shorts.”
“Logan, it’s late,” You grumbled but his hand brushed along your small patch of hair.
“Come on, babe,” He purred as he nuzzled the back of your neck. “It’s been… a while.”
You were quiet as he poked his fingers down and forced them between your legs. You flinched as he pushed on your clit.
“Babe,” He said again.
“Mmm,” You mumbled.
He pushed against you again and you sighed. You arched into him and let him lift your leg. He prodded your entrance and impaled you slowly. It was painful as you were barely aroused. You just wanted to be done with it. You knew he didn’t want you; he’d just gotten himself riled up and needed a release.
When he was at his limit, he gasped. His fingers slid off your clit as he began to thrust and he was toying with the crook of your leg rather than any part of your cunt. You grabbed the corner of your pillow and turned your face into it. He moved faster and faster as he quickly approached his peek.
You held back the tears as he jolted your entire body. You felt the warmth burst inside of you as he gave a pathetic moan. He spasmed a few times and slipped out of you. He rolled onto his back and gave your ass a tap.
“Mmm,” He hummed. “That was good.”
“Y-yeah,” You carefully shimmied to the edge. “I gotta go clean up.”
“Dirty girl,” He purred and you quickly fled to the bathroom, his cum dripping down your thighs.
You closed the door and sat on the toilet. You wiped yourself clean with tissue and let out the pressure which had built in your bladder. Finished, you remained as you were. You hung your head and covered your mouth with your hand as you began to cry. You were such a coward.
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thecagedsong · 3 years
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Forgotten Light: Chapter 10: Departure
A/N: Hey, going to be a little iffy on the posting schedule. Taking a huge test in 12 days and I have to study all day every day. Take this one though, one of my favorite chapters. I do wonder if the story would be better if I didn’t have so much of the plan laid out beforehand.
1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11
Chapter 10: Departure
Everyone was sweating as Agad, the last of their group, reached the High Judgement Pavilion. Only Patton was missing, already on his way to scope out the dragon temple. While they didn’t tell Seth directly, Patton was probably going to use their infuriatingly peaceful flight as a distraction for when he entered.
Seth had spent the afternoon getting everything ready. Whispering to people to pack up and where to go, modifying the treaty to let their mounts out, trying to collect items. Tess had found him and spelled out the names of the demons in Kendra’s journal, and it was only when she spelled out “Tailizar” that he connected that name with demon that had confronted him in the dreamscape. Agad had promised to see if he could locate any of these demons, and Seth stuck their names with Patton’s list of ways to reach the Phantom Isle. He really needed an adventure log. He let Tess keep the journal of secrets, since no one else was going to use it.
“All right,” Seth said, rubbing his hands together. “I see everyone has brought their suitcases, like I said. You’re probably wondering what is going on, and the answer is that all humans and Satyrs are leaving Wyrmroost right now. I’m going to give being caretaker back to Marat, Agad will do what he wants, but the rest of us are heading out.”
Everyone started asking questions at once, but they weren’t letting Seth answer them. Every time he tried to start, someone else would jump in with a point.
Marat struck his staff on the ground, demanding silence. He nodded back at Seth.
“Right, I’ve thought this through and talked it over with Agad and Marat. We’re expecting an attack tonight, and the biggest weakness is the barrel, so we’ll be taking that with us. There’s a spy in the keep I’m going to have to leave Marat to deal with, but to be honest, he’ll probably be able to handle them a lot better than I could.
“We did what we were brought here to do: kept Wyrmroost from falling, strengthened the treaty barriers, and we saved a couple of castles and insulted the dragon king while we were at it. There’s no reason for me to be here, or any of you, and as cool as it has been being the caretaker, I have a couple of leads on finding Kendra, and that’s more important.”
Grandma asked, “How will you get Celebrant to agree to the change in leadership?”
Seth grinned, “Celebrant doesn’t have to. He’s no longer caretaker, revoked by our local dragon slayer. He’ll be angry, I’m counting on it, but no magic says he can tell us to do anything. We’re skipping the Fair Folk bit again, but they already confirmed Marat once, and what are they going to do, write a slightly angry letter?”
“And how do you expect to leave peacefully?” Grandpa asked, arms folded.
“The flying mounts,” Tanu answered before Seth could.
“Yep,” Seth said. “It may have skipped your notice, but we acquired some new wings for our friends. We fly down to the nearest town with a car rental, and we can be back in Fablehaven by tomorrow. To make things easier on our friends, we won’t have them fly us the whole way. And we’ll have some nice stables waiting for them at Fablehaven when they arrive.”
“And the Dragons?” Newel asked. “I still haven’t heard how we’re getting around them if they decide it isn’t poor taste to eat poultry and red meat in the same meal.”
Doren slapped a hand to his head, “Of course, the Cloak of Innocence.”
“I would normally be loathe to test the cloak against multiple dragons,” Agad said, “As they are undoubtably watching us, but it is a short trip, the numbers within the cloak’s ability, even with the mounts. The cloak has also proven effective against dragon fear, ensuring you retain the ability to stay seated.”
“Oh, and we’re taking the barrel with us,” Seth said, not remembering if he had already mentioned it, “Marat, did we get anything for that?”
Marat waved a golden feather, “This will significantly lighten the barrel, making it possible to carry if secured correctly.”
“Cool, any other questions?” Seth said, “We’ve been keeping this underwraps, hoping to be able to walk right out of here. Celebrant isn’t going to expect us to just leave, certainly not in broad daylight, which makes this the perfect time.”
“Wait, does this mean we’re going to be riding horses?” Newel asked, absolutely affronted.
“Actually, it’s not so bad,” Doren admitted quietly. “I had to, in order to stay with the littles. Felt a little off, but it won’t kill ya.”
“Look, I would really like you guys with me,” Seth said, “But if you’d rather stay here…”
Newel huffed, “Now I don’t appreciate being strong armed, I’ll go, but it’s unnatural is all.”
“So Marat, how do I do this?” Seth asked, and the dragon avatar stepped forward.
“First you’re going to have to denounce Kendra as a caretaker. You were appointed together as one, and you are both required to make decisions regarding the mantle. Kendra has been gone for long enough, that you can officially declare her as having abandoned the post, and accept all the responsibilities as sole caretaker. Hold the staff, hold the amulet, and repeat after me.”
Seth accepted the staff and repeated what Marat told him to. If Kendra had her memory, she would be so mad over what he was accusing her of: abandoning responsibilities, disregard for the treaty, and in her absence, he accepted sole power and responsibility for the preserve.
There was a glow from both the medallion and the tip of the staff. When it settled down, Agad stepped forward.
“Seth, remove the medallion from around your neck,” he instructed. He did so. “And repeat after me.”
Seth recited the same oath that Marat had asked him to take a little over a week ago.
“Do you, Marat nee Camarat, vow to protect the outside world from the living beings at Wyrmroost, and to shelter the living beings at Wyrmroost from any outside threats?”
“Yes,” Marat said, his head bowed.
“Then as the current caretaker of Wyrmroost and as master of Blackwell Keep, of my own free will, I hereby confer my stewardship over Wyrmroost to Marat nee Camarat, including all rights pertaining to a designated and official caretaker of this sanctuary together with all privileges available to the master of Blackwell Keep.”
Seth placed the medallion over Marat’s head, and they shook hands.
Agad let out a breath, “It is done. You have done this war a great service, Seth Sorenson.”
“Hey, maybe this isn’t goodbye forever to Wyrmroost,” Seth said, smiling, “It’s been fun, feel free to call on my services again after we get Kendra back.”
“We will try to let you grow up first,” Agad said. He walked to the side of the pavilion, it was fairly large, and waved a hand towards the stables.
A minute later, those who hadn’t yet seen the mounts were appreciating them. Tess looked like she had gone to heaven.
“I get to ride one?” Tess asked, bouncing.
“You’re going to be with your brother,” Agad said, smiling at her. “His steed is the majestic flying camel, Bagak.” Tess squealed and ran up the camel, talking a million miles a minute.
“Do I have to ride with her?” Knox complained.
“Bagak is the most secure,” Agad said, “We don’t have saddles that accommodate wings. Make no mistake, Tess is possibly the most important member of this party. Without her, everyone fails.”
Seth, meanwhile, was making introductions, “Grandma, this is Glory. She’s Kendra’s mount, and one of the mute luvians. Glory, would you be willing to take my grandma out of the preserve and to the outskirts of the city?”
Glory neighed and stomped once for yes.
“You are quite beautiful,” Grandma admired offering her hand and waiting for affirmation to stroke, “And Kendra picked you because you like Jane Austen, right?”
“Captain!” Seth called, pulling Grandpa behind him. “Patton’s gone, he was only a stingbulb, but I’m hoping you’d be willing to take my Grandpa?”
“I remember Patton was only temporary,” Captain said, “as a group, we have decided to stick together and give your goals what aide we can. I would be honored to carry your esteemed elder.”
“The honor would be mine,” Grandpa said bowing.
Seth found the dark gray stallion, and asked quietly, “Rodolfo, are you sure you’re okay leaving Lomo behind? I’d understand if you wanted to stay by him. He’s the only one you agreed to carry.”
“I heard you with Captain, and I stand by that. Lomo also encouraged me to stay with your group. Frustrated by his own race’s neutrality, he encouraged me to assist you in what I can,” Rodolfo told him.
“Good, I’m glad to have you with us,” Seth said, “You get the strangest riders. Go easy on them, they spook easily.”
Rodolfo seemed amused as he followed Seth to where the satyrs were standing apart from the group.
“Newel, Doren, this is Rodolfo, he has volunteered to carry you out of here,” Seth said. “I told him to go easy on your two because you’re scardy cats and this is unnatural.”
“I resemble that remark,” Doren said.
“You sure he’s up for carrying both of us?” Newel asked.
Rodolfo snorted, “I could carry you both and another besides.” Then he calmed down, “I swear that you will have safe journey on my back.”
“Sorry,” Newel said, “We’ve just never gotten along well with Centaurs, and have never met Luvians, but you seem an alright sort, I suppose.”
Seth left to find Nobel, who was waiting for him.
“Sorry about that buddy,” Seth said, “That was my last bit of being in charge for a while, had to do a good job of it. We’re going to be following Tanu and Charlemagne out of here, right?”
Nobel stomped once.
“Good, alright. If dragons try to bother us, I’m going to be the one talking to them. I won’t be focused on staying with the group then, you’re going to have to do that for me.”
Nobel tapped once again, then tossed his head. Seth smiled, “Yeah, I so got the coolest one.”
It took longer than Seth liked to get everyone mounted up and settled. Grandma made sure everyone had their weapons firmly put out of reach so that no accidents killed them all by disrupting the cloak of innocence’s power. The barrel ended up tied alongside Captain, weighing as much as a feather thanks to the magical item. They made sure Tess knew all the people and animals inside the protection of the cloak. Finally, they were ready about 5:30, which gave them a little over three hours before sunset.
“Until we meet again,” the caretaker brothers said in unison. They didn’t look anything alike, but their manners matched in that moment as the two dragons in human form bowed to the party.
“Lead on Charlemagne,” Seth called. They took off, and the heat fell away as they soared on the breeze. Seth decided to start counting, see how long it would take for a dragon to attack them.
He got bored and stopped, but it didn’t take long for one to approach.
“And where are you going, little caretaker?” a female voice asked. A black dragon surged from the surrounding woods into the air beside them.
“Oh, I’m not caretaker anymore,” Seth said, “I gave that over to Marat. Celebrant’s tantrums got boring; they aren’t worth my time.”
The dragon pulled back and a surge of green fire surrounded them, deflected by the bubble of Tess’s cloak.
“Now that was rude,” Seth said, as the breath weapon subsided, “Here we are, trying to leave peacefully, and you try to set us on fire.” He leaned forward on Nobel and stoked his neck. Dropping to a whisper he said, “Stay steady, don’t spook.”
There was a grunt Seth couldn’t interpret, but it was strong enough that Seth leaned back.
“Celebrant did not accept this change! He was not aware. You lie.”
Seth shook his head, “Take it up with the caretaker, Marat is back at Blackwell Keep. It might be hard, since Celebrant tore down the roost. The Somber Knight stripped Celebrant of his caretaker status, and since it’s no longer his business who is caretaker, we didn’t feel the need to inform him of the change. If he doesn’t know, you should hurry and tell him.”
The black dragon took off with three harsh beats of her wings. Not even the wind affected them, instead slipping around the barrier.
“Seth, here’s an idea, maybe don’t taunt the dragons?” Doren called back with a strained voice.
“Seconded,” Grandpa called from in front of him, “Protection from magical fear is all well and good, but we don’t need to make this experience anymore terrifying than it already is. Everyone okay?”
A round of affirmatives came, the silent horses whinnying.
Calvin flew up close on Thistleton.
“Should I try scouting like last time?” Calvin asked.
Seth shook his head, “Stay within the cover of the cloak. We don’t know how far we can stretch this bubble, and everyone staying together would be better. Go up to Charlemagne and ask how long until we reach the barrier.”
“Aye sir!” Calvin said. “Let’s go Thistleton!”
Calvin came back and reported forty minutes until they reached the boundary. Seth took out his spy glass and pointed it towards Sky Hold, but couldn’t focus it right while moving. He put it away and hoped. Hoped the black dragon was a chatterbox, discrediting Celebrant even further. Hoped she wasn’t as fast as she looked, and it would take her at least thirty minutes to make it to Sky Hold. They had bet a lot on this plan, and Seth really, really, really hoped it would work.
Ten minutes of fairly smooth flying (they had a small detour away from a herd of Peryton), and Seth was starting to feel hopeful. A dragon came up, but didn’t speak, just flew beside them, then dropped back down. Then twenty minutes down, twenty minutes to go, Calvin confirmed that they were on track.
A roar echoed along through the air, startling several flocks of birds, and even a couple of their flying mounts falter.
“Steady,” Grandma called.
“Seems like Celebrant just got the news,” Seth called to everyone.
“Pull in tighter,” Grandpa said, “As close as possible without jeopardizing speed. The less stretched the cloak, the better it will be able to protect us.”
Their mounts obeyed, and Seth started tapping his thigh nervously and checking over his shoulder towards Sky Hold. Five minutes later, according to his watch, because it felt like thirty minutes to him, Seth looked back and saw the streak of adamantine silver wings pushing towards them. Seth forced himself not to look back again.
“What is the meaning of this!” Celebrant demanded pulling to a stop in front of them. Their mounts reared in the air at the block.
“Keep going forward,” Knox called when their mounts pulled up. “he’ll be forced back, just like the first time I was here.”
“He’s right Charlemagne,” Seth called, “Keep going.”
Hesitantly, the mounts started forward again, and Celebrant snarled as he was the one forced back.
“I will not be ignored!” he roared. And it was exactly as terrible as it had been the day he and Kendra had had their interview.
“Uggh,” Seth said, wrinkling his nose, “I see you didn’t take my advice about the breath mints.”
“Do you admit to fleeing your post caretaker?” Celebrant demanded. “I would destroy you for your insolence!”
“As I told your spy,” Seth answered, “I’m not the caretaker. I gave the job back to Marat, and you can’t complain. The Somber Knight fired you for doing a terrible job! Go take it up with Marat back at Blackwell Keep. We’re leaving.”
Celebrant roared again, this time with the full strength of his breath weapon. Four other breath weapons joined from the rest of his entourage.  
Calvin flew up beside him, and as quietly as he could, said, “The barrier is weakening by the Satyrs.”
Oh no. He was used to Kendra holding the magic item, Tess didn’t have the same magic juice in her.
“Tell everyone to get ready to dash,” Seth whispered back. Calvin took off and he took a deep breath.
“Celebrant!” Seth roared back, hoping he was about  “I’ve met babies with better manners than you! We are leaving Wyrmroost in peace. You lie and cheat and still can’t beat a couple of kids. How does it feel to screw up so many times in just two weeks? Now leave us alone, you spineless piece of shit!”
“LANGUAGE!” Grandma yelled.
“Sorry!” Seth yelled back, “Celebrant, back off you piece of rotting troll dung! We’re leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it!”
The breath weapon ceased, and Celebrant looked more livid than Seth had ever seen him. “YOU DARE INSULT ME! I WILL BURN YOUR BONES TO ASH AND FEAST UPON YOUR HORSES —” Celebrant was forced to the side as Charlemagne charged forward.
 “The gate is in sight!” Tanu called.
“YOU FLEE LIKE COWARDS AND FLAUNT OUR CAGE! YOU WILL DIE HERE, SETH SORENSON!”
 “And your mother was a chicken nugget!” Seth shouted over his shoulder, clinging to Nobel with all his might.
Celebrant swiped with claws at the barrier, forcing it to turn temporarily opaque. Another dragon, brown, attacked from above, and the black one struck above the Satyrs, their shrieks were barely heard over the large cracking sound of their barrier.
Options, he needed options! The moment the cloak broke they were all dead. Why hadn’t he claimed the bow from Kendra?
The bag of winds! Seth scrambled, and pulled the small sack out of his adventure kit.
“I have the rear!” he called to his family over the crack of the brown dragon attacking again. “Everyone keep sprinting.”
Nobel resisted a little, but let Seth tug him exactly behind Bagak. He readied the bag of winds as the black dragon swiped. The shield was remaining opaque for longer and longer. The black dragon chomped at the shield, and it shattered. With a roar, Celebrant dived directly for him.
Seth waited until just before Celebrant reached the fading shield, angling it to catch on the flat of his wings. He braced as much as he could without losing his hold on Nobel. Seth opened the bag as wide as it would go. The protection, currently a cracked shell, vanished under his attack. Celebrant was blown off course, his swipe missing—
Celebrant vanished, along with his allies. Seth blinked at the empty sky. Gazing downward, gone were the lush, colorful trees. There was no Blackwell keep in the distance, and no enormous mountain peaks where Thronis watched, probably laughing.
It took a second for the cheering of his friends to hit. But it hit like the colder air and Seth collapsed against Nobel and he dropped the bag of winds. Calvin caught it and flew it back up to him.
“You were awesome,” Seth said to his horse.
“No, you were amazing!” Newel said, inching Rodolfo closer. “We thought it was our turn to become barbeque!”
“Indeed,” Rodolfo said, “You and Nobel showed great courage.”
“I don’t know about you guys,” Seth said, “But I can take a little break before we do that again. And I need a hamburger. Now.”
Doren and Newel absolutely agreed.
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bywordofaphrodite · 3 years
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Book Reviews 3&4: Nancy Drew and the Lilac Inn by Carolyn Keene & Trixie Belden and the Secret of the Mansion by Julie Campbell Tatham
This review’s theme is girl detective books ! Audience age range: roughly 12 and up !
Just as Enid Blyton’s books made me fall in love with magical creatures and faraway lands, detective novels became an obsession during late primary school, with classic lead female characters Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden being my absolute favourites. My school had an extremely small and limited library, and the Nancy Drew books were one of the only decent series there- even with a great chunk of the collection missing. My mother introduced me to Trixie Belden, which she insisted was better than Nancy Drew, though I refused to listen to such a declaration at the time.
Now, though? My opinions have definitely changed.
Nostalgic review
Rating: ★★★★★
From memory, Nancy Drew is a clever, beautiful and well-off girl in her late teens, living with her lawyer father Carson Drew and her housekeeper Hannah Gruen, who has looked after Nancy since her mother’s passing when she was only three. I always enjoyed the dynamic between Nancy and her father, as it was similar to mine with my father, also a lawyer- Carson doesn’t step in unless Nancy needs his help, but he does assist in legal advice when necessary. I also loved Nancy’s friendship with the cousins Bess and George, and liked that her relationship with her ‘special friend’ Ned never got in the way of solving mysteries or hanging out with her friends (‘hanging out’ was practically code for sleuthing in these novels anyway). Overall, my memories of this series amount mostly to exciting searches for missing heiresses, finding beautiful jewels and battling crocodiles in Florida.
On the opposite side of the spectrum is Trixie Belden- rough-around-the-edges thirteen year-old from a poor family living with both her parents and three brothers. Where Nancy has a housekeeper, lives in an affluent suburban neighbourhood and never wants for money, Trixie lives on the outskirts of a small town, both her parents work, and she is constantly reminded of how important it is to work for money as they do not have much of it to spare on mindless things. Nancy is a fairly solitary character, often working alone unless her friends show up, and even then she does most of the legwork; Trixie is also the main sleuth in her series, but her best friend Honey is almost always at her side. While the mysteries were great, the warm friendships in Trixie Belden novels are what I remember best.
Regardless of whatever my thoughts may be after rereading books from these two series, I’ve never ceased referencing either of them and my love of the mystery genre still holds fast even now.
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Nancy Drew and the Lilac Inn Review
Post-read: ★★
Synopsis: girl detective Nancy Drew is called to solve a series of odd goings on at her newly engaged friend Emily’s inn, in what seems to be an attempt to prevent Emily and her fiancé from opening. Disaster strikes when her aunt retrieves Emily’s inheritance of diamonds- Emily’s last hope to cover the costs of fixing up the inn- and they are swiftly stolen within the hour. Nancy vows to catch the thief and the intruder and save Emily’s inn from failure.
I struggled in choosing which Nancy Drew book to reread for this review, and after reading through multiple rankings lists I decided on the Lilac Inn because it ranked highly on every list. I now wish I had just gone with Crocodile Island anyway… at least there was something snappy about it. In between the bomb, the theft, the doppelganger, the underwater fake-shark, the kidnapping, the spear-gun attack- I think I’ve made my point. There’s far too much going on, and if it was well-written I would be okay with it, really I would, but it’s all so blandly articulated that half the time I had to reread just to make sure I’d read correctly what nonsense was occurring at any given time.
Straight out the gate, I just want to say how shocking the writing was- that’s shockingly bad, by the way. If I thought Enid Blyton’s work was stunted, well, this was far, far worse. Especially since it lacks the excuse of being written for young children. It was incredibly difficult to push through in the slower parts, and I must admit I basically skim-read the lead up parts to the action sequences (which were incredibly minimal compared to the gnashing crocodile teeth I longed for, but alas). Sadly for me, Bess (my old fave), George and Ned were not present at all, and I cannot remember if they had actually been introduced that early in the series because they are not mentioned once.
I did really like the concept of the story, and the element of Nancy having a creepy doppelganger posing as Nancy to cause mischief (she has several over the series) was fun, even more so that said doppelganger was an actual actress and quite ruthless in her attempts to steal Emily’s diamonds- I love a morally-corrupt pretty female villain as much as the next person, after all. There is a romance teased between Nancy and a young man staying at the inn, a young man who continuously seems to be in the same room as the diamond thief messing with Emily’s inn, but ultimately both never amount to anything. This hardly surprised me given the book is written in the thirties, and Ned and Nancy never do anything but attend dances together the entire series, but still, come on. He could’ve at least stolen the diamonds to add some spice to his useless appearances.
It’s possible that were a very talented scriptwriter to take this book and make it into a movie it could work out a lot better than it does on paper- provided the casting was done well. The sets would be interesting, and I think the creepiness of the ‘ghost’ in the orchard and the diving scenes would translate a lot better on camera. Normally I’m not one to nominate live actions of novels for no reason, but this thought kept recurring as I struggled to get through the writing.
Characters who aged well: Nancy is smart and weirdly good at everything (they don’t explain why she knows how to do all the things she does, but diving and freeing herself from bonds seems to be easy enough for her. Given male characters are always allowed to be perfect without training, I’ll allow it). For a female character written in the 30s she has plenty of agency and does not once rely on a man’s help to do anything, which is why I always enjoyed her books. Carson Drew also aged well- not present that often, but useful without being interfering, and his trust in his daughter is refreshing. As for the other main characters in the series… they didn’t even show up in this book so I can’t really comment on this.
Characters who aged badly: plot twist- I’m adding Nancy here too. She is a little too perfect, too polished, a common criticism by modern readers, though at the time of publication was her main selling point. Additionally, earlier editions of the series featured racist comments made by Nancy, although those have since been taken out. However, the publisher and creator of the first books was not a very pleasant person, so I find myself able to separate that from Nancy’s character.
Favourite scene/quote: ‘The article went on to tell that Nancy had just completed a course in advanced skin diving in the Muskoka River, and that she had finished first in total points in the twenty student group’.
I find this quote amusing because there is really no need for Nancy to be good at every single thing, and this is a good example of the many times throughout the series that Nancy is the ‘best’ at a very random activity that is often never mentioned again.
As for my favourite scene, though nothing interesting actually ends up happening in the orchard, I did like the eerie setting of Nancy dressing up as a ghost and chilling behind a tree for a while (okay it was partially eerie, mostly just oddly comedic). The actress/impostor posing as Nancy provided a few good scenes, too, but for the main villain of the story she was hardly in as many scenes as she should’ve been in.
After doing some research, I discovered something most interesting: Nancy was written with significantly more character by the original ghost-writer of the series, a woman named Mildred Wirt Benson, who wrote Nancy ‘embodying qualities that she wished she had’- but the publisher Edward Stratemeyer did not want a bold female character, and she was rewritten with similar dialogue but now accompanied with ‘dainty’ verbs to sweeten her words. Stratemeyer was also known for his beliefs that women belonged in the kitchen, and the only reason he created Nancy in the first place was to capitalise on young female readers who wanted their own equivalent of the Hardy Boys.
With all of this in mind, it’s very possible that the Nancy from my memories is a mix of the older and new editions, which allowed Nancy more personality as the series went on, no longer needing to confirm to the sexist expectations of the 1930s. And despite these origins, Nancy Drew aged quite well as an unintended feminist icon: she solves her mysteries alone and rarely needs Ned’s help at all; in fact, most of the time, Nancy is the one doing the saving. It’s nice to think that, almost one hundred years later, Mildred Wirt Benson’s version of Nancy is the one being kept alive, both on paper and onscreen.
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Trixie Belden and the Secret of the Mansion Review
Post-read: ★★★★★
Synopsis: energetic teen Trixie Belden’s boring town of Sleepyside is turned upside down when a rich new family moves onto the property opposite her own, an old miser winds up in hospital and his empty mansion is suddenly inhabited by a runaway boy, and a missing fortune is waiting to be uncovered.
Whewww.
This was a massive breath of fresh air after the Lilac Inn! After being so unimpressed by both Blyton and Keene’s writing, Tatham’s writing restored my faith in my childhood judgement. Her words flowed well and the conversation between the characters was very natural. The blank slate characters in the Lilac Inn were showed up by the animated and multiple-dimensional characters in the Secret of the Mansion, and I never once felt the need to rush myself through the chapters.
Unlike my method of choosing a Nancy Drew book, I simply decided on reading the first Trixie book for this review. While I almost went for a later book where all the main characters had been introduced, I couldn’t remember how Trixie first met Honey and Jim, which I felt was pretty important to her character. I’m very glad I did. Even in the first book, Trixie endures so much character development (contrasting very strongly with Nancy’s flawless existence). Longing for a friend, Trixie takes herself up the hill to the newly habited mansion to introduce herself and her little brother Bobby, who she is babysitting to earn money to buy herself a horse. There she meets rich girl Honey Wheeler, a sickly and sheltered but sweet girl of the same age, whose parents pay little attention to her. Things fall into place with all the expected luck of a teen heroine- Honey’s governess is a lovely woman who wants Honey to befriend Trixie and offers to look after Bobby, and of course Honey’s stables are now filled with horses and a stable hand who can teach her to ride.
But for every easy thing comes an opportunity for Trixie to grow: she comes to admire Honey’s bravery after previously being irritated by her fear of trying outdoor activities; she ignores the stable hand’s orders not to ride the stallion and falls as a result, leading to her having to work to regain his trust and also being taught the valuable lesson to recognise her own limits; finally, as much as Trixie hates looking after little Bobby, when he is bitten by a snake Trixie is resourceful and quick on her feet in helping him, keeping him well enough until a doctor and other adults arrive.
Rather like the Lilac Inn, the mystery of the story centres on the hidden will to a supposed fortune of the elderly man who lived in the old mansion not far from Honey’s new home. On a whim, Trixie nags Honey into accompanying her to snoop around the building, leading to their discovery of the old man’s nephew Jim hiding there. By the end of the book, the girls have helped Jim to find the will and safely escape his abusive step-father. Later in the series, Jim is adopted by the Wheeler family, and also becomes Trixie’s primary love interest (I love that this relationship is not at all rushed either).
The reading level for the Trixie Belden series is listed as grade 3 and above, but I had no problems being completely involved and intrigued by the storyline and characters as a twenty-three year old. I think I’ll continue to read the series on my own time, as I always enjoyed the full character line-up developed after a few books in.
Characters who aged well: Trixie! If my praise during this review didn’t make clear enough, she’s a wonderful character with great development. Honey and Jim are also solid characters, and Bobby and Trixie’s parents are well-written too- supportive and kind, but realistic concerning raising Trixie to be a responsible kid. Also going to add that Trixie’s group of best friends- self-named the Bob-Whites of the Glen and consisting of her two older brothers Brian and Mart, Honey, Jim and the later additions of Dan and Di- have a strong presence and very distinct personalities when they show up in the later novels.
Characters who aged badly: nobody! All the side characters were well done, including the villain. He wasn’t over-the-top by any means, his abuse of Jim was both emotion and physical in a realistic manner that concerned the adults around him enough to comment on it without actually taking proper action to help him, as it often goes. I appreciated the author’s ability to write a male character the vulnerable one, to recognise what was wrong about the situation, and to gladly accept help from two girls younger than him.
Favourite scene/quote: “‘serves him right,’ Trixie said, wiping her grimy hands on her rolled-up blue jeans. ‘The mean old miser. You should have left him lying in the driveway, Dad.’”
An earlier quote in the book, this sets the tone for Trixie’s character: she’s messy, no-nonsense and cheeky. For a female character written in 1948 I found this quite amusing. There’s none of the internalised misogyny that often popped up in ‘tomboy’ characters of the time: Trixie just is what she is, and she’s great.
A standout scene would be Trixie sucking the venom from her brother’s snakebite to save him, and the chapters focused on the developing friendship with Honey and Jim while the two teach Trixie how to handle horses is also enjoyable.
Overall verdict:
My mother was right, Trixie Belden is far better than Nancy Drew in every category I can think of. I wish that the series had gained the popularity that Nancy Drew did, because it would make for a fun movie or television show. There is an eighteen year gap between the publication of the first novel from both series, and both heroines saw many more books written after that. Nancy Drew is so persistent, however, that multiple movies and even a recent CW show have been made, though it is not very accurate to the books at all. Even now, modern-day setting Nancy Drew mysteries are still being released under the Carolyn Keene pseudonym, showing her unending mythical status.
I still love Nancy, bad writing and all, but in all fairness, Miss Trixie deserves a cut of the nostalgic hype surrounding the girl-detective genre. I’d also like to bask in the poetic justice of Nancy not only remaining a more iconic character than the Hardy Boys, but also becoming more feminist as time goes on. I’m sure the publisher is rolling in his grave!
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thegreatobsesso · 3 years
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Okay. It’s time to quit overthinking it and just put something out there.
Here’s a bit I quite like, and yeah, it’s totally out of context but so will anything I post from my massive WIP. I’m just gonna do it. And I’ve got a lil’ bit of art for this one too. :)
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- Callie -
They called this place Charlie's Recovery Room. It was hardly a place to recover; just a dingy dive on the corner with with neon outlines of women’s bodies in the windows and signs advertising cheap beer, but they knew her here, and she liked that.
As Moira, of course. Moira, the mousey brunette who either went home after a long day of lying to old people on the phone to the peeling tiles and clanging radiator of her apartment, or she came here, to kick back a cosmo or two or seven.
The red Christmas lights stapled around the top of the bar were anything but festive, casting a feverish glow on the regulars - bikers, mostly, and a few old married couples who seemed to like it here because they didn't have to talk to each other.
The red light, it would have looked good on her before, back before she had to glamour herself within an inch of her life before being seen in public. But if she wanted to be herself, well, she shouldn’t have killed someone, should she?
The thing was, she fucked up last night. Not in like a gotta-get-outta-town way. In more, like, a hurt-herself-and-now-she-needs-distracting-before-she-hurts-herself-worse kinda way. She needed alcohol and someone to talk at and a warm body to drive herself into before the thing that was always waiting inside her ate her alive.
Not one of the bikers, not for this. She knew them and liked them. Someone else, but pickings were slim tonight. There was a couple down the bar smoking cigarettes together, two guys drinking beer (one of whom had already rejected her once), and a woman by herself who looked too neatly-pressed for this place.
She could just go somewhere else. Except, no - no getting on her own bike because she was already feeling pretty slippery. She'd have to walk home. Why was she drunk already? Had she eaten today?
Fuck it. She'd just go home and pass out. She fished for her wallet to pay her tab when the bartender brought her yet another pink drink in a plastic martini glass.
“No no no,” she said. “I don’t want it.”
“Lady down there bought it for you.”
He nodded down the bar and she frowned, following his gaze - the neatly-dressed lady was looking her way, and lifted her own drink in acknowledgment.
Callie’s confusion must’ve shown, because the woman gave a sheepish smile and looked down at her lap.
Well, hell. She didn’t mean to make to make her feel bad, she was just… surprised.
Their eyes met a second time, and the lady looked away a second time, clearly embarrassed.
Unexpected but delightful. Okay, she could work with this. She wasn't gonna look a gift horse in the ass, or whatever.
“This isn’t the kind of place people buy each other drinks at,” she said, sliding into the stool next to her. 
The woman gave a demure smile. “You looked lonely.” 
She had a soft, deep voice - sexy.
“Are you lonely too?” Callie asked her.
“Kind of,” she said, lifting it at the end, like a question. “I’ve been here about a week and I’m not… great at meeting people.”
She was attractive in a not-so-obvious way Callie failed to notice from across the room. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a lazy bun, and she wore a crisp white blouse covered by a modest denim jacket. She was rail-thin but looked strong, and her grey eyes were sharp behind her wireless glasses.
Not bad at all.
"Well, welcome to town," Callie said, swiveling on the stool to face her. "This is the bar. Across the street, there’s a gas station, and down the road from that, there’s a shopping plaza. Now you're an expert on town.”
She took another sip of her drink, not because she wanted it but for the tipsy hope it made her look alluring.
“What do you do?” the woman asked her.
“No,” Callie said.
“I’m sorry?”
“No, it’s, it’s so boring I literally can’t make a single sentence about it,” she said, and she wasn’t trying to be funny but the woman broke into a bright smile anyway. “And I hate small talk, you know? Like, I make boring words, and then you make boring words back at me, and we’re not saying anything, not really. When’s the last time you did something crazy? Like, really crazy, like you were watching yourself do it and you couldn’t even believe it was you? That’s something fun to talk about, where you’re actually saying something, you know?”
Oh wow, she had those last few too fast. Her filters were almost completely disabled. A voice in the back of her head was reminding her of the inherent danger, but it was faraway and stuffy and annoying to listen to. As long as she didn’t start running her mouth about being a fugitive, she’d be fine.
“Something crazy?” the woman said, and it look Callie a moment to remember what she had asked. “I guess it’s a been awhile.” She shrugged, self-deprecating, shy, and took a sip of her pink drink and cleared her throat, like she didn’t like the taste. “I’m pretty boring.”
“You’re pretty pretty,” Callie quipped, proud of herself. “You wanna go somewhere?”
She raised a single eyebrow.  “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“I don’t do anything but waste time.” She leaned forward on the barstool, careful not to go too far and face plant. “What do you say?” she purred, and put her hand on the woman’s knee to see if the sweet thing would shy away.
She didn’t. She only angled her body closer, meeting her gaze without embarrassment this time – warm grey eyes, like a summer storm. "I never do this sort of thing," she admitted.
Oh, of course not - they never did. "Don't you worry, baby," she hummed, enjoying the dance. "You just follow my lead."
--
For someone who didn’t “do this sort of thing,” whatsherface was a fast learner. So much so that Callie was so thoroughly spent afterward, she didn’t even care if the lady spent the night, so long as she didn’t snore - and that was the whole blessed point, to get the feelings fucked out of her so she could get some fucking sleep.
That was the last thing to flit through her head until she woke, sometime later, to something hard and cold closing around her wrists. It stuck her hands together behind her back; a hand clamped over her mouth.
Panicked, she reached reflexively for Peter’s magic to defend herself. Nothing happened – nothing – except an explosion of pain in her chest like she’d backfired on herself. Someone pushed her onto her stomach, planted their knee between her shoulder blades.
“Easy, Callie,” said the same soft voice from the bar. “I’m gonna put a needle in your arm, and if you struggle, you’ll hurt yourself. Nod if you understand.”
Her own name shocked her into stillness, more than the pain, more than anything. No one had called her her name in years. No one should know it.
She nodded.
“Good,” the woman said.
There was a sharp pinch, and then nothing at all.
.
.
.
- Riley -
Given all the fuss about Callie Ray, it shouldn’t have been this easy. 
The sensationalized portrayals from the news were all wrong - this was not someone ruthless, calculating, or even particularly competent.
The original plan was to obtain new samples to work with - hair, skin, saliva, blood. Peter’s DNA was only half the puzzle. Could anyone do what she did? Or was she uniquely capable of it and if so, why?
Her plan had expanded in scope, but this small part, sample collection, was still relevant. It was now undoubtedly Callie Ray lying unconscious, her glamour fallen away, red hair spilling like rivulets of blood over the dull, dirty sheets. She’d be out for awhile.
Riley grabbed the keys Callie had thrown onto the junk-strewn table on their way in and went to get her bag. She let herself back in minutes later and cleared a space for herself to work.
She got the woman dressed - it was the decent thing to do. There wasn’t much around in the way of comfortable clothes, but she managed to find a t-shirt and pair of worn leggings that would do the job. Callie didn’t seem to own pajamas.
Riley wasn’t out to frighten or torture the woman - in fact, now it’d be best if Callie felt safe with her. A tall order, given what she’d just done, but when she woke up with her magic dampened, they'd have a proper, civil conversation.
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sctisfctions · 3 years
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( emeraude toubia, 28, cis female, she/her ) Have you seen CARINA TORRERO around ? I hear they’re an ESCORT who can sometimes be GREEDY & IMPULSIVE. But I also heard they can be DETERMINED & ADAPTIVE if you catch them on a good day. They’re usually hanging around LA CASA DI MATEO in their spare time. I sure hope they’re alright ! ( mandy )
Hello all! I’m Mandy and this is my child, Carina Torrero She’s… a lot, so bless your soul for finding your way to this intro.
Full name: Carina Cecilia Torrero Nickname: Care, Cari, C.C. Age: 28 Nationality: Mexican and Lebanese  Religion: N/A City of birth: Laredo, Texas The current place for living: Chicago, IL Job title: Eden Escort Married? No Spoken Languages: Spanish, English Birthday: October 30th Does she own a home? Yes
B A C K G R O U N D : ( updated Feb. 25th, 2021 )
Carina is the baby of her family and has always was spoiled as such; showered in gifts. In the small town of Laredo, Texas, the Torrero family was known as the richest family in town. While it was rumored that there were some underground dealings going on in the family business, none of those were true. In fact, The Torreros prided themselves on being the purest and most righteous family in the region. Rev. Torrero owned and pastored a Mega Church that made millions of dollars every week, on top of people throwing money at her parents for their “good work”. But it meant nothing to Carina because she always felt like the church always came before her. Every time they were absent from her biggest life events, a gift was sent to make up for it. 
When Carina went to Drexel University to get her degree in fashion design and marketing, she planned on spending the first year goofing off and exploring what the world has to offer her. In a city like Philadelphia, it was easy to get lost in the hype of pre-game drinking sessions and post-game parties, getting sucked into hook-up culture and living as thought she’d never have a chance to touch this many people all at once. 
Getting out of college and moving back in with her family in Laredo was odd, at first, leaving the sweet life of sin behind and pretending to be the angel the town was so used to. Kidding, of course, she couldn’t leave it behind. She started doing modeling on the side and ended up getting commissioned for a huge gig with a very risqué magazine. Before the photoshoot even happened, word reached her parents church and the rumors spread like wildfire across the town. Her parents looked down on her with shame and disgrace. 
It felt all so overwhelming until she realized it’s all just Texas life. Outside of their region, no one even knows who her family is. She knew the only thing to do was to pack up her things, steal a couple million dollars from her parents ( which was barely a dent for them ), and move to Chicago where she could carry on a life of her own. Within a month of moving, she made friends with some people who worked at a club called Eden. They got her a job as an escort and, to this day, she’s been operating as a freelance designer by day and an escort by night. 
Family:
Sisters or brothers: One older brother and sister Wife or husband: N/A. Children: None. Other important persons: Roommate(s)
Physical Characteristics:
Addictions: control, power Bad Habits: acting only for the good of herself Color of Eyes: brown The color of Hair: black The color of Skin: tan Dialect: american accent Does the character drink regularly? always Does the character have any disabilities? no Does the character prefer any proverbs? “the most important thing is to enjoy your life and be happy” - audrey hepburn Does the character smoke? sometimes Good Habits: open-minded, forward thinking, tidy. Height: 5′3″ Hobbies: reading, working out, instagram, binge watching, skin care routines, healthy eating Is she wearing Glasses? no Is the character healthy or does he have any diseases? she’s healthy What’s the style of the character? (modern, outmoded): sporty and sexy. is almost always wearing a sports bra, leggings, and sneakers.
Mental Characteristics
Education: Bachelor’s Degree in Fashion Design and Marketing Intelligent or not? smart enough. she picks things up quickly. Fears: being misunderstood, spiders Life Goals (next 5 years): get a mansion Life Goals (next 25 years): own a fashion empire Self-perception: idk she’s just trying to keep it all together Assumed external perception: she thinks people think she’s either great or a bitch, there is no in between. Self-Confidence: extremely confident Rational Or Emotional: rational How could you upset this character? compare her to her family
Wanted Connections ( all based on crazy ex-girlfriend/galavant songs )
any of these could be filled with gang affiliates of any kind !! It’d be fun to see how a gang affiliate would spice up these connections !! 
PLATONIC
FRIENDTOPIA: Carina loves very few people on Earth. They’re the Joey/Chandler/Monica/Phoebe to her Rachel. They do practically everything together, as they spend pretty much every waking second together. They’re her roommates (they can work at Eden with her, but it’s not required). 
LET’S GENERALIZE ABOUT MEN: a bitch-type group of friends that get together, sometimes drink, sometimes shop, or sometimes just share gossip and personal thoughts about what the hell is going on around them.
SECRET MISSION: They say the enemy of my enemy is my friend. These people mutually hate someone and often come up with different ways in which they can make this person suffer. But it’s all just in good fun…… or is it?
OFF WITH HIS SHIRT: Any of the men she’s been with exclusively through Eden. Her “regulars” or “visitors”, if you will. She gets paid quite heavily whether she offers sex or just her general company.
MAYBE YOU WON’T DIE ALONE: Carina is the self-proclaimed Hook Up Guru of Chicago, so she’ll definitely attempt to hook you up with that person you’ve had your eye on and it sometimes isn’t subtle. But sex makes her happy, so helping her friends get laid makes her happy too. 
AFTER EVERYTHING I’VE DONE FOR YOU: This person has gone to hell and back for Carina, yet she shows little to no gratitude towards them. It’s only a matter of time before their lid pops right off. 
FACE YOUR FEARS: These are her older friends who help her figure out her shit and she ACTUALLY listens to them because she just trusts them more than anyone else. 
GREG’S DRINKING SONG: Drinking buddies!! A lot of the instances Greg mentions in the song can basically just be different scenarios they’ve gotten themselves in.
ROMANTIC/SEXUAL:
IT WAS A SHIT SHOW: A bittersweet ex-boyfriend. They really didn’t have any choice but to end things. He has some things going on in his life, Carina wasn’t anywhere near ready for a monogamous relationship. They both agree… it was a DISASTER.
SETTLE FOR ME: Someone who, stupidly, has a crush on Carina and he literally doesn’t have a single chance in hell. I just think this kind of energy would be hella hilarious.
STRIP AWAY MY CONSCIENCE: One of the guys that she regularly hooks up/hooked up with. Maybe even dated, but it wasn’t anything more than sex, really. They’re still friends to this day. 
SEX WITH A STRANGER: This is pretty straight forward. All of her hookups. I’m just gonna list them here for data purposes. They coulda been friends before or barely know each other. Honestly, if she avoided everyone she’s ever had sex with, she’d never leave her house. 
ENEMIES:
MAYBE YOU’RE NOT THE WORST THING EVER: Bitter, toxic exes. This was one of her first real and intense relationships that happened in a time when she was the most vulnerable and unprepared. It ended HORRIBLY when they lashed out at each other and it’s hard to let those feelings go. If they can get over their own pettiness, they can at least hope to be frenemies.
JACKASS IN A CAN: People who really just DON’T think she’s all that. They thinks he’s very stuck up and don’t fall for her charming, blunt persona in the slightest. I’d just love someone to call her out on her bullshit.
I DON’T LIKE YOU: General dislike and sworn mortal enemies kind of situation. We can talk over what happened between them, but honestly, it wouldn’t be that hard to find something that she did… or someone. 
WHEW this was long, but go ahead and press some buttons if you like and wanna plot with her!! 
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warsofasoiaf · 4 years
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I am definitely curious about fantasy trappings and democracy PLEASE tell us
living-is-hard-with-eyes-open said:Hi! Love your blog. Not the original anon, but could you elaborate a little bit about how a democratic system could play out in a fantasy story? Your first response was fascinating and I’m really curious. Thank you in advance and I would understand if you are not in the mood! (Sorry about my English, still learning) 
Anonymous said:“If you want to know how fantasy can use it’s trappings to its benefit to write a democratic settig, let me know” (paraphrased) I do!
I figured there would be interest in it. If I’ve being honest that was mostly me stalling for time because I had some ideas I wanted to flesh out but didn’t have the time to explore right then.
As an aside, @living-is-hard-with-eyes-open, your English is pretty good. No one ever needs to apologize, to me at least, for trying to use another language. 
Early historical democracies often extended suffrage based on gender, class, amount of personal property, and other things which frequently limited the size of the voting population. The Athenian Greeks, for examples, had to own the panoply of a hoplite, thus making the voting public liable for the city’s defenses, along with being a male, debt-free, etc.. There’s no reason that these things can’t be extended to fantasy concepts that apply to fantasy wars. If magic is large enough to have a military component, powerful enough to mandate one, and controllable enough not to blow up your army in a massive apocalyptic hellstorm, then magical service might be one way to become a part of the voting public. This lends itself to a new dimension of struggle between the enfranchised and disenfranchised, which I’ve seen in fantasy works portraying these sorts of democracies (again, usually based in some fashion off the Roman Republic), as well as opening up the question of extending citizenship based on how easy or difficult magic is to learn.
A fun twist on a democratic medieval burgh involved as a great production center might have democracy broken down into guilds, this might be the case for a fantasy race with a caste system (we’ll use dwarves, the go-to fantasy lawful industrial race), where they are arranged from birth into different guilds based on their future profession, with a democratic tradition within the industries that send a representative to the legislative halls. If history is any judge, these industries would fiercely guard their trade secrets and trade monopolies, leading to out-and-out conflict between industries when one gets too close to the prized pony of another. That would mean, if Northern Italy is our judge, the need to establish an executive to sort out those conflicts and thus the city is in control of a powerful Factor. Or conversely, the guilds don’t want a Factor getting in the way and so purposely neuter it with restrictions and bureaucracy to the point where the position is a meaningless figure ironically called a “plenipotentiary” for how little the character can actually do while the guilds wage assassination campaigns, electoral fraud, and out-and-out private wars, seizing control of the Miller’s Guild for example to deny grain to the rest of the workers or the Aqueduct’s Guild to deny critical water to needed industries; that sounds like a society in crisis. Once you have that and you want to write a fantasy political thriller, having the protagonist be someone elected to the position of worthless PlenipotentiaryFactor use the same bureaucratic wrangling and de jure powers that have been worthless to change the society. Do something with that and you might just have the foundation and plot for a good fantasy novel, or a plot within a larger fantasy work such as ASOIAF with this Factor merely as one POV.
Speaking of conflict, one of the reasons burghs and other city privileges came into being was conflict with the feudal fief-holders. Magic might provide an alternative nexus, either to start the conflict as they become a power holder, a means for the cities to provide oomph that calls for charters guaranteeing self-governance to avoid magical rebellion (especially if magical universities are centered in cities), or a weird three-way struggle for power between the rural, the urban, and the arcane in their wizard’s towers. A wizard’s tower would almost certainly have a town spring up around it, particularly if there are services that the wizard cannot use magic to provide for themselves and the wizard can provide services for the community. Magic might become a part of charters just like it might become a part of feudal contracts, with all the realpolitik that such a thing can provide such as when the wizards say that because of the valuable service they provide, they should be afforded certain tax privileges, which pisses off the other non-magical fiefs and possibly causes a rebellion, either by mages protesting royal disregard for the rights of the arcane with all the pomp and language you’d expect from the First Barons’ War (the First Wizards’ War!) or the barons protesting the king favoring the arcane, possibly whispering about how their magic has ensorcelled the king in the vein of every wicked evil councilor. 
One thing severely limiting most fantasy societies with democracy is that for the most part, historical societies like this were phenomenally illiterate, with travel and communication technology mostly limited to horses and boats. Magic can be a way to circumvent these limitations, either by moving people away from labor-intensive work like agriculture and mining which would allow something similar to what happened in our own history with the rise of more politically-active people by class. For example, an Icelandic thing or assembly could use magic or some form of racial telepathy to actually bind the people to be able to allow them to hear their lawspeakers from great distances so that they might be instructed in what matters are being put before the assembly (probably with some sort of magically-enforced truth telling to safeguard against corruption), and likewise be able to cast their vote before the assembled magical elders in a form of direct democracy that can manage the logistical problems that such forms entail. You can go one step further to have the coming-of-age ceremony, where a child becomes recognized as a full adult, require the giving of blood to create a blood link to be able to be contacted by the lawspeakers via sympathetic magic, a formal blood magic civic ritual done either on birthdays or holy days depending on how magic works in this setting. This could create a relatively modern, even futuristic conception of democracy (some science fiction uses cybernetic implants and quantum communication to establish massive direct democracies, Iain Banks’s The Culture series of books comes to mind) that would actually be more appealing to modern audiences than traditional monarchial models or limited democracies. There’s a lot to like about this theoretical blood magic democracy; it could have modern good things: universal suffrage, equality before the law (all of you are the same because you all have blood), freedom of religion as long as it doesn’t forbid participation in this blood magic stuff, the list can keep going, but it’s so creepy that audience members are going to be a little squicked out. That’s a great headspace to put your readers in, this cognitive dissonance between admiration and discomfort can be quite unique, it could really make the story stand out. However, it also has plenty of threats that you can use for storycrafting, corrupt lawspeakers who circumvent magical safeguards to enrich their self-interest ala corrupt politicians (maybe even lying that there is such a thing as magical truth-telling), use of the blood for nefarious magical purposes such as spying on the citizens or taking control of their bodies to commit proxy crimes, magically hacking into the vote to pump up the totals by mages looking to secretly control democracy. 
At this point, I think I may have just accidentally brainstormed a fantasy setting that can explore modern political concepts with fantasy metaphors. Let me know what you think of this essay, everyone, both in general and this theoretical blood magic democracy being used as a exploration of problems that exist in modern democracies. Is this a neat idea, or am I in my own headspace where only I think this idea is good?
Thanks for the questions and encouragement, both registered members and Anons who wanted me to explore it all in more detail.
SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King
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pennypeabody · 4 years
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Mädchen Amick teases Riverdale directorial debut, and what she learned from David Lynch
Mädchen Amick wasn't planning to direct the Riverdale season 4 finale. But when the coronavirus pandemic halted production across the world, her directorial debut on the CW series moved into the coveted spot.
"You want it to be exciting and climactic and really building its energy, so I wanted to honor that," the actress tells EW of her fateful episode. "There was a little extra pressure."
Amick has been directing since 2015, beginning with one of her daughter Mina Tobias' music videos. And while Riverdale has kept her busy playing Alice Cooper, the uptight, haunted mother of Betty (Lili Reinhart), since 2017, she has long dreamed of stepping behind the camera as well.
She finally got her shot for "Killing Mr. Honey," which was originally intended as the 19th installment of the 22-episode season. Now it will have to stand as the conclusion — and Amick warns that it ends on a cliffhanger.
In the photos above and below, EW has an exclusive behind-the-scenes look at Amick's directing days on Riverdale. And ahead of the episode's May 6 airing, we called up Amick to discuss her experiences calling the shots, what it was like pulling double duty, and how working with David Lynch early in her career inspired her as an auteur.
ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: How long have you had an itch to direct, and how did this episode come about?
MÄDCHEN AMICK: I moved to L.A. at 16, and got Twin Peaks at 17. I would say around my mid-20s, I had it in the back of my mind that I wanted to be more than just an actress and be a storyteller, but so many things in my career made me busy and made me feel like, "Oh, I don’t have time to step behind the camera. I have to keep busy and focused on staying in front of the camera." This was in the mid-'90s, and there were a few female directors — one in particular was Diane Keaton on the original Twin Peaks — that showed me there are women doing this, but [now] there’s a little bit of this movement to get more diversity behind the camera that I benefitted from. I have to give credit to my husband and my daughter. She asked me to direct her music video, and I was honored and jumped right in. I’ve done a few music videos. I’ve directed and produced a docuseries pilot. At the beginning of Riverdale when I did that first thing, I’d started asking around and asking [creator Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa] and [producers] Sarah Schechter and Greg Berlanti. I said, "Hey, guys, I really would love to direct an episode." They were super-supportive and excited. So it was this season that Roberto said, "You want to direct this season?" And I was like, "Yes!"
Riverdale has a very specific, highly stylized aesthetic. Did that make directing easier or harder, especially when it comes to putting your own stamp on the episode?
It was easy for me. I know the show so well, inside and out. I really enjoy the storytelling and the filmmaking part of it. So I know what Roberto likes, as far as the way he likes the story to be told and unfold. That was a great template that was already in place, and I wanted to honor that. Then, I just wanted to elevate it as much as I could and get as strong as performances out of all my fellow actors, which they were great and supportive. And just push the visual boundaries as much as possible. Presenting new ways to shoot scenes, but still staying within the world and the visual look to it, and just hoping that Roberto loved it.
I remember Roberto and I had a conversation: It might’ve been season 2 or season 3, but there was an episode and he said it didn’t feel very inspired. That really gave me an insight into [that] he really wants directors to come on board and love the show and be excited about the show, and then bring an inspirational take to it. That made me feel I had a little bit of freedom to run with it, and he didn’t want a cookie cutter, just make everything the same. It was nice to hear he wanted something that was inspired.
When you directed the episode, it wasn’t meant to be the season finale, but now it is. Is that exciting? Nerve-racking?
Since it's [episode] 19 of 22, you are getting to the end, so there’s usually a lot of climactic things happening. That’s a lot of responsibility, just because I want to get it right. I know we’re getting toward the end, and those last few are really important to start tying up loose ends or building to a cliffhanger. You want it to be exciting and climactic and really building its energy, so I wanted to honor that. There was a little extra pressure.
Did it lead to any last-minute adjustments or changes in the storytelling?
The episode that I shot was the last episode that we completed as far as filming. We were halfway through 20 when production stopped, so I was editing when production stopped. At that point, we didn’t really know that the season would be done. It was a little bit of a holding pattern of, "Are we just pausing and we’ll get back to it, or will our season end a little short?" Now knowing my episode will serve as the finale for this season, obviously we’ll pick up back up next season. They’ll have to adjust some storytelling with what they had planned at the end of this season. As far as my episode, it pretty much stayed intact the way it was written. There was a new layer that came into the story that now serves as an interesting cliffhanger.
You also appear as Alice throughout the episode. What was it like having to pull double duty?
I’m not gonna lie, it was a huge challenge. My brain was so much behind the camera that it was hard for me to switch over to being in character. I could easily slip into Alice, but I could not remember my lines, and I’m usually really good at that. I was really struggling. In one scene in particular, there’s a big confrontation that Alice has with Mr. Honey and she drives the whole scene with all of the parents, and I could not remember it, to the point where my fellow actors were whispering the lines to me to try to help me get through it. Man, it was rough. I know I’ll continue to get better with that with practice, but my brain was not in that space at all. I was full-on thinking of shots and directing my other actors, so it was a big challenge.
This episode is going to have to hold us over for a while; what can you tease about it? Would you say it’s a satisfactory end to the season?
The whole theme of the episode is the big confrontation between the kids and their awful Principal Honey, who’s just been tormenting them the whole season. So lots of really, really fun stuff. There’s a mixture of some fantasy of what they want to do to Mr. Honey and some reality of what ends up happening to Mr. Honey. So that’s the big tease.
The back half of the season angered so many Varchie and Bughead fans, and it doesn’t seem like the same instant regret Archie and Betty have had over previous kisses. What can you say about where those relationships and feelings are headed? Might Riverdale be exploding some of its most beloved relationships?
[Laughs] Why? Why were they upset? No, but don’t they always teeter on that? I think Roberto loves to torture the fans, quite frankly. That’s the fun dynamic, and that is what’s classic to the Archie Comics, is you have this love triangle that’s always been between Archie, Betty, Veronica, and now we’ve thrown in Jughead into the mix. It’s complicated, but we’ll see what ends up happening at the end of senior year and where relationships really go. I know the plan for the next season is we were going to jump forward in time and see where everybody had landed, but I don’t know if that’s gonna adjust now that our season changed a bit.
Both Skeet Ulrich and Marisol Nichols had announced they were leaving at the end of this season, leaving you as the only original Riverdale parent left standing. Now that filming has ended early, does that alter their plans? Will we get any hint of where F.P. and Hermione were originally headed?
As far as the episode I directed, there wasn’t really anything different happening for their characters. It was the same story line going on. But with technically three more episodes they had planned, I’m assuming they had plans. I also know Roberto really loves Skeet and Marisol, and he told me he hopes their characters can come and go from the show depending on everyone’s availability. It’s always funny whenever some of our characters die on the show, it’s like, "Oh, well that guarantees you’ll be on more often." Nobody’s ever really gone on Riverdale.
Does it feel weird to know Alice was going to be the last one left? And what might that mean for her going forward? She seems so happy with FP, it’s really sad to imagine that ending.
I know! They were finally doing good. I don’t know what Roberto has planned, but yeah, poor Alice. She’s really going to be alone now. Maybe she’ll just be ruling the town, who knows? Maybe we need to start a new campaign, Mayor Alice. Obviously not until next year, but just even thinking about coming back next season and having all my O.G. homies not around on a consistent basis, it’s definitely going to be really sad. I’m absolutely going to miss them, but I know that won’t end our friendship.
Earlier in the season, we had evidence Chic and Charles are working together. Will we see any answers there, and what might it mean for Alice to discover her long-lost son has betrayed her once again?
We hadn’t gotten into that for my episode. I think that was in the next few, so she hasn’t experienced the betrayal yet. I know she’s really resilient, but there’s been a lot of betrayal in this woman’s life. I think Alice is going to need some therapy next season.
And not of the Farm variety.
Real, good old-fashioned traditional therapy.
We were setting up for high school graduation to round out this season, and the characters going off to college or other futures. Will we ever get some taste of graduation, and have you any hint of where the kids will end up next year?
No, I don’t. I know the idea was we were going to jump forward in time a little bit to see what they had done. I’m assuming something brings them back to the town of Riverdale.
Can you point to moment or visual choice that you felt defined your identity or artistic choices?
Jughead and Betty have a fantasy going about what they would do to Mr. Honey, and so Betty’s revenge fantasy inspires Jughead to write an essay for college submissions. We get to go into and reenact Jughead’s fantasies and his writing. I wanted to push the envelope in those scenes. You don’t want to go too far out of the way where you’re totally getting rid of reality, but I wanted to visually have some fun with breaking the rules of what you’re supposed to do with shots and how you edit them together. Jughead is all about classic storytelling, so my inspiration was Alfred Hitchcock and Citizen Kane and that kind of stuff. We did a lot of twisted shots and shots that moved in weird [ways], very Vertigo- or Citizen Kane-inspired.
How much were you influenced by the visual artistry of working with David Lynch so early in your career?
He was my mentor from the very beginning. I didn’t really know too much about filmmaking until I worked on Twin Peaks with him. He showed me you think outside the box and do things that feel and look right to you. It wasn’t until I went into the business after Twin Peaks that I realized how different and what an innovator he was. That’s always been in there as my base, to just not be afraid of taking risks. He sent me a really beautiful email my first day of directing, and just reminding me to make sure I did every single thing I want in every single shot, and to have fun.
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gamz2311 · 4 years
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Lights Out- An Adam SacklerxReader One-Shot
Written for @kylosupremeimagines and the Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange. I hope you enjoy it! Happy Valentine’s day!!!
Warnings: Cursing
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“Adam, we have got to go grocery shopping.” Y/N shouted from the tiny kitchen apartment that she shared with her roommate Adam Sackler. 
“Oh fuck that.” Adam responded from the other room where he was… building something? She couldn’t really tell- all she knew was that it was loud and very annoying. 
“I’ve done the grocery shopping every week for the past three months, it’s your turn!” She said, the annoyance with her roommate clear in her voice. Suddenly the loud banging sound stopped and Adam appeared in the doorway. 
“I know and you’re so good at it. You know if I go I’m getting yogurt and beer. Yogurt and beer only.” He said, giving her a face that she already knew she couldn’t say no to. 
“Alright. Fine.” She said rolling her eyes.
“Kid, this is why you are my best friend and the best roommate.” Adam said gripping her waist with a friendly squeeze. As much as she wanted to stay irritated with him, she knew it wouldn’t last long. She could feel the smile spreading across her face as she looked at Adam. 
Y/N had known Adam almost all of her life. They had done community theatre together as kids and by the time they were teenagers, they were practically inseparable. When Adam left to move to the city, they had stayed in contact, seeing each other when he came home to visit. She had never thought about moving to the city, content with her life in the small town she loved. 
However, that had all changed when she found herself at a crossroads. Her boyfriend of 2 years had dumped her, her job had become monotonous and boring, and most of her family had moved out of the area. One night she called Adam, mainly to complain, when he quickly shut her down.
“If you are so unhappy then do something about it.” He said, leaving her speechless and annoyed.
“What?” Her voice came through the phone harshly and quickly. 
“I said if you are so fucking unhappy then DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!” He made sure to over emphasize the last few words to really hit his point home. “Your boyfriend was an asshole, also- told you on that one. You’ve always hated your job, and everyone has moved away because where we grew up suckssss.” Y/N sat there on the phone speechless. She knew he was right, but there was no way she was going to admit it. 
“It’s not that simple, Adam.” She started before he interrupted her again.  
“Yes it fucking is. Stop being so dramatic. Want a change? Move to the city. Hell, move in with me. I could definitely use help with the rent.” His response was so blunt that it threw her for a second. 
“Are you serious?” The tone in her voice quickly changed with her response. 
“Hell yeah. It would be fun to be roommates.” And just like that- Y/N found herself leaving the life she had always known to move in with her lifelong friend. It was very surprising to her how easily she adjusted to living in the city. She found a job she liked quickly and settled into the bustling city life. Adam was a great resource, letting her know what she needed to do and what was essential to avoid. 
Being roommates with Adam wasn’t as bad as she thought it might be. Sure, he did random, loud projects at all hours of the night and brought home women pretty frequently, but overall he was respectful of her space and made her feel safe. 
There was really only one weird thing that came from “being roommates” and that was this weird tension that had developed between them. They had fun and things were great, but there seemed to be this draw, some invisible tether that made her want to be close to him. Sure, she had a crush on him as a kid but it was childish and she knew it could never develop into anything. However, there was something about living in these tight quarters, sharing so many domestic moments that made her almost feel those stirrings of desire and love deep inside. 
“So, when are you going shopping? I’m starved.” He said, as she rolled her eyes and slugged him in the shoulder.
“I’ll go tomorrow, ok?” Falling onto the couch, she looked up at him. “Wait, why would you only buy yogurt and beer? You don’t even drink!” 
“See, that's how absolutely shitty I am at shopping kid.” Shrugging, he left the room and within minutes and started his loud project again. “By the way,” he yelled over the jarring sounds of metal hitting wood. “I’m going out with Hannah tonight. Some party at one of her stupid friend’s house.”
“I thought you two weren’t together anymore.” Y/N yelled back, feeling jealousy settle deep in her stomach. 
“We aren’t, but you know…” He started to say, before he was interrupted. 
“I get it. You can stop there.” She knew he was going to say that they still fuck around, and she just couldn’t stomach hearing it again. Making her way to her room, she fell back on the bed. Having no plans of her own, she decided to spend the evening doing what she loves: watching Chris Evans movies and eating the chocolate she had hidden in her bedside drawer so Adam couldn’t get to it. 
She was halfway through Gifted when suddenly the electricity went out. Scrambling out of bed, she grabbed her cellphone.
“Adam? Are you still here?” Y/N called out. Her door had been shut and Adam didn’t always tell her when he was leaving. 
“I’m here! What the fuck happened?” Adam said. She could hear his steps coming closer to her but she still couldn’t see him even with the glow of her cell phone. Within moments he was beside her, his face illuminated by the phone. A towel was wrapped low around his waist as he had clearly just gotten out of the shower. Water glistened off his chest and she could feel her cheeks start to redden. 
“I have no clue.” Her response was quick, trying to move past the moment of temporary awkwardness. They looked at each other for a minute before she turned to her phone, looking for information. He watched as the look of shock spread across her face. “Apparently the whole city is out! Look at this picture of Times Square.” He peered over to her phone screen. 
“Oh damn.” He said in his low, slow voice. “Well it looks like you are stuck with me for the night. I’m not leaving in this mess. I can only imagine how fucking crazy its going to be out there.” He shrugged. “Can I borrow your phone to get to my room so I can put clothes on?”
“Where is yours?” Y/N asked. Adam didn’t really answer, just shrugged. She followed him into his room and handed him her phone. 
“Now- no peeking.” Adam joked and again Y/N was glad that the lack of electricity covered the blush that was now spreading across her body. She rolled her eyes and turned to face the doorway. Within moments he was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. He handed her back her phone and they stood there. 
“So- what are we going to do?” He asked. 
“Uh- I have a few candles in my room. We could light those in the living room so I can save my phone battery.” She skeptically suggested. Adam seemed to approve of the plan, so within 30 minutes the living room was lit up with candles and the two of them were relaxing on the couch. 
“So…” Y/N said.
“So what?” Adam responded.
“What do you want to do?”
“Well sitting here in silence fucking sucks, lets play a game or something?” He said.
“A game? How old are we?” She teased, elbowing his side. 
“Oh, you prefer the silence? Then by all means let's continue…” He said, stretching his legs out in front of him and closing his eyes. 
“I was teasing! What game do you want to play?” She sat criss-cross on the couch so she could face him. 
“Truth or dare.” He said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. 
“We aren’t in 9th grade…” She started to say before he interrupted her. 
“You already played the “we are too old to play games” joke- come on- just do it.” 
“Alright, alright.” She said as he turned to face her. They started playing truth or dare, keeping things simple. Before long they were cracking each other up trying to be as goofy as possible. As the night went on they would play truth or dare off and on, their truth and dares getting more and more bold. She couldn’t tell if she was just imagining it, but it seemed like Adam was moving closer and closer to her. His truths and dares seemed to be more risque, making the moment seem more and more intimate. However, it was impossible for things to be too serious with Adam around. 
“I dare you to flash the window.” Adam said.
“Easy!” Y/N responded, turning towards the window and raising her shirt. 
“Very nice, you’ve gotten much better at this game since high school.” Adam teased, placing a hand on her leg as she sat back down. “Remember that night at Claire’s house?” 
“Oh god. I’ve tried really hard to forget that night.” Y/N put her hands on her face, covering her clear embarrassment.
“I haven’t. That night was very interesting.” Adam said with a laugh.
“Yes it was. At least the parts I can remember. Ugh, I’ve never been that sick before in my life.” Y/N said, leaning her head against Adam’s shoulder. “What a crazy night.” She expected Adam to make some retort about how idiotic she looked that night but Adam was silent. “Earth to Adam?” 
“How much do you remember?” He asked
“Huh?” She responded. 
“Remember how we made out that night?” Adam said.
“Oh my gosh. As much as I have tried- no I have not forgotten that night.” She said with a laugh. 
“Hey- why are you trying to forget? I’m a great kisser!” He said, faking offense.
“We were drunk and in Claire’s older brother’s closet.” She retorted back. “It smelled like gym shorts.” 
“Is that all you remember?” Adam said, and Y/N almost felt like he moved a bit closer to her on the couch, his hand sliding up her thigh. 
“I mean the smell was pretty overpowering…” She laughed. Somehow her response seemed meek, like she wasn’t sure exactly what to say. 
“Why was that the only time we made out? We’ve been friends for so long, you think it would have happened again.” Adam said, making Y/N feel like the wind had been knocked out of her. 
“I don’t know.” She said quickly. “Hey, I’m starved, you want a snack?” Y/N went to stand up, but Adam’s hand kept her in place.
“You already know we don’t have any snacks, so why are you trying to leave? Does this make you feel uncomfortable?” He leaned closer to her, the space between them disappearing. 
“Uh.. I, I mean- no of course not. We are friends, we can talk about making out. That's not weird, like come on, no big deal. I mean…”  She started, feeling the warmth of his skin as he slid his arms around her. They sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them growing exponentially. 
“Truth or dare?” Adam said, sitting close enough to her that she could feel his breath as he spoke. 
“What?” Y/N said, almost feeling breathless as her senses felt overwhelmed. 
“Just answer. Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” She whispered. Adam didn’t really answer, instead he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers, wordlessly daring her to kiss him back. 
She did, intensely and passionately. It was like all the tension that had been hanging around them since she had moved in had exploded. They clung to each other, exploring each other’s mouths. It wasn’t long before she felt herself starting to giggle against his lips. 
“What's so funny, kid?” He asked, giving her a look. 
“I just can’t believe that happened. We aren’t even drunk. This is so crazy.” She said through a laugh. 
“Sometimes the things that are the most crazy seem to make the most sense?” He said with a shrug, before pressing his lips against her again. She allowed herself to be over taken by him, his mouth on hers, his hands feeling like they were touching every part of her.
Honestly, she wasn’t sure what this meant, and she didn’t really care. She was going to enjoy every moment of having him this close. She couldn’t help but think that she had never thought power outages were romantic, but this night was surprising her in more ways than one. 
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roc-thoughtblog · 3 years
Text
Sense and Sensibility Readthrough Part 15
Chapter 18, Pages 83-88
Past two weeks have been... rough isn't the right word, that implies a specific level of hardship. Mismanaged implies that I made management decisions at all. I think "thoroughly paralyzing" and "difficult to manage" were what it was. If I ever mention emails in the preamble again you can be sure there's a 50% chance I'm imminently falling apart and disappearing for a while under the pressure. I still haven't conquered them at the time of writing this, but I've made some progress..
Over the weekend two sets of friends dragged me out, so that's helped a lot in resetting my mind to a less frozen space. I got to see a bird art exhibit and pick up a friendly kitty! I have no idea where yesterday went but I finished DDLC the day before, which was fun and I'd like to write something about.
This week's looking better.
Anyway! Previously, Edward Ferrars has returned, and makes his greatest spoken appearance thus far with all the sisters; and in the comfort of their familiar company he sounds very much at ease and how Elinor would refer to as "as himself." It's very sweet, but it also sounds like he's nursing something broody underneath it all.
Geez it's been almost two weeks.
It took me a good four hours today to get back into reading again, but I'm glad I did. This chapter was so sweet, and I feel like it's helping me get my life rolling again.
Readthrough below.
Chapter 18
Edward Ferrars is doing a good impression of me during social outings. Poor Elinor, he's so despirited she's not able to even read if he still loves her/wants to see her;
and the reservedness of his manner towards her contradicted one moment what a more animated look had intimated the preceding one.
Another for the nice line stack. I really know the feeling though; that you should or even are genuinely happy to be there but something weighs on you in a way that whatever you should naturally feel gets swallowed. Like happiness is a poor signal being intermittently obscured by static and noise. And other people can pick it up easily even if they don't know the cause; poor Elinor is feeling insecure right now being made to guess what it could be.
Edward's behaving oddly, not just in Marianne's opinion but in mine as well I think. Or at least, very detachedly. He skips breakfast with Elinor to go a walk around town to admire the scenery; I have to pause my train of thought for this actually:
"I shall call hills steep, which ought to be bold; surfaces strange and uncouth, which out to be irregular and rugged; and distant objects out of sight, which ought only to be indistinct through the soft medium of hazy atmosphere. [...] I call it a very fine country - the hills are steep, the woods seem full of fine timber, and the valley looks comfortable and snug - [...] I can easily believe it to be full of rocks and promontories, grey moss and brush wood, but these are all lost on me."
When Marianne tries to press Edward for the details of his aethstic opinion after his walk, he gets pre-emptively defensive over his inability to meet her standards of aesthetic appreciation. Asides from illustrating that Edward knows how to describe what he lacks, it's really helpful to me for being an incredibly easy to reference breakdown on the difference between observations made from aesthetics versus utility.
Steep hills, out of sight objects, comfort and resource presence are all practical concerns. Meanwhile, uncouth surfaces imply personality, a hazy distant skyline adds atmosphere, promontories are dramatic and grey moss and brush wood are appealing visual details. I haven't really stopped thinking about narrative voice, so I'm suddenly struck wondering about a detective/reporter dynamic where two characters cover the same scene but one is practical and the other is poetic, and seeing the difference... Well it's probably been done and I should nix this train of thought before it takes me interstate.
Amusingly, Elinor undercuts her beau by explaining to Marianne that Edward is not nearly as exclusively utilitarian-minded as he acts... he just masks the latent poetry within his soul because he holds a slight reactionary bias against aesthetics, because he finds some aesthetic appreciators to be fake and pretentious. Oh dear. :'D
Fortunately for Edward, Marianne agrees that florid language has been done to death. Unfortunately for Elinor, Edward refutes her claim that he has any hidden poetic appeal. He goes as far as to use language like "crooked, twisted, blasted trees" while doing so too, which, I think we can all agree it's a waste that he doesn't employ them more often. :'D
Marianne looked with amazement at Edward, with compassion at her sister. Elinor only laughed.
Same. :'D
Oh, oh no.
Next paragraph Marianne spots that Edward has a new ring and blurts out the observation for a conversation topic. Oh no, no that can't be any kind of good in general. A surprise new ring? In a romance novel? Murder! Bloody murder! It's like finding a bloody handprint in a murder mystery; Edward what have you done??
I might be having a little trouble following what comes now though. So there's a hair inlaid in the ring (what is it with people keeping each other's hair?), which Marianne asks if it's Fanny's. The hair's not the right colour to be Fanny's, but Edward makes an excuse while glancing (guiltily?) at Elinor. So now, both sisters think it's Elinor's hair, and he's lying about the source because he's embarassed? Marianne thinks it Elinor gave to him, but Elinor thinks he secretly stole it from her?
I think that's what happened?
Elinor doesn't even like... particularly mind that her hair might have been stolen to make a ring.
That hair is definitely not Elinor's though, which I think she will mind.
[Elinor] internally resolved henceforward to catch every opportunity of eyeing the hair and satisfying, beyond all doubt, that it was exactly the same as her own. [...] how little offense it had given to [Elinor].
Elinor's natural skepticism, at an 11 for Willoughby, is turned down to a 1 for her beau. In fact, her natural skepticism is playing second fiddle to her basking in attention; from the rest of the context it sounds like she's just using it as an excuse to admire her beau apparently wearing her hair. We've seen paranoid hyperaware Elinor, and this is definitely not her. This is a new Elinor, this is aaaaaaaaaa my beau has a secret memento of me aaaaaaaaa i can't betray my secret internal happiness aaaaaaaaaaa Elinor.
I don't even think I'm reading too much into the secret internal happiness thing, girl has feelings and biases. If it were Willoughby with the strange ring of hair she'd be driving herself up the wall with concern, but that it's Edward she's already half-convinced herself of his fidelity. Either it's not her hair, or he stole her hair behind her back, and neither is a good thing! In fact, the latter is quite a stretch, and Edward seems like an awful liar. And even though she assumes the latter option, that he stole her hair without her consent, she's not even upset! That's not just creepy nowadays, Elinor acknowledges in the text that she should be affronted! It's creepy then too! Poor girl has it bad.
Mama Dashwood are you gonna say anything? I don't think Marianne is useful here, she's just happy to see signs of love.
Oh boy, there's not even much of a reprieve before Sir Middleton and Mrs Jennings show up to meet the new lad in town. 0 seconds for Mrs Jennings to figure out Edward is Elinor's secret beau. Poor Elinor is gonna get her match made so hard. I expect exponentially increased amounts of unwanted advice.
Sir Middleton invites them to more parties, as he do, which may or may not be the coming chapters. Marianne is still despirited that Willoughby is absent. Edward catches on to all these mentions of a mysterious Willoughby and Marianne's despondent reactions, and pieces things to together to come out and ask Marianne privately... if Willoughby hunts.
He just made a joke, that cheered Marianne up. That's adorable, I love it so much. Bonding... :')
Not just him too, the entire narrative was setting that one up for the reader, trying to build it up into some kind of serious question or confrontation so that Willoughby could deliver the punchline on Marianne. On a dry technical level it conveys the same bare minimum of information that it otherwise could have (that Edward has figured something out and confronted Marianne about it), but on every other level it's so much more heartwarming and just adds such a fine, tender touch to an interpersonal relationship that really doesn't get all that much positive attention.
And beyond touched, Marianne is all of happy, anxious and certain that Eddie would be great friends with her Willoughby, which, I need many new sentences to express how incredibly meaningful that is.
Marianne's relationship with Eddie up until now has been marked by a frustrated inability to understand him, and mostly held together by the good words and attention of her sister. They're established to be friends and positive, but there's always a fraught element to it, especially since we've seen that she and Willoughby together have had a similar antagonistic relationship towards Brandon, and that doesn't play out well even with Elinor's defense. Given how much she insists that she shares her heart and mind with Willoughby, we can reach the implication that she treats her opinion or place as interchangeable with Willoughby's. If she can confidently opine that Eddie will like Willoughby, then I think this is that tender moment where we can see that, no matter how or if they fight or disagree, Marianne truly believes that Eddie deeply likes and appreciates her, because that's what's necessary to like Willoughby.
And Eddie reciprocates! "I do not doubt it." He has no reason to know that Willoughby and Marianne have appreciably interchangeable level singlemindedness, so he just likes Marianne enough to be ready to accept whoever it is that she loves.
It's such a lovely note to end an otherwise tense chapter on. That interaction alone might have made it one of my favourites so far.
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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years
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Top 20 BEST Animated Series of the 2010s-7th Place
>Insert long exaggerated sigh here<
It’s here that I really, really, REALLY hope nobody that I know personally is reading these.
(Also, sorry that this was a day late)
#7-My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic (2010-2019)
The Plot: In the land of Equestria, a unicorn named Twilight Sparkle moves to a happy little town called Ponyville to learn about the magic of friendship. There, she meets her best friends Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie. Together they’ll do what most friends do. Which is to sing songs, defeat creatures who seek to destroy everything, and learn that friendship truly is magic.
Now, I know what you might be thinking. Hell, I knew what you were thinking before I even explained the plot: “Isn’t this just a show for little girls that twenty-year-old losers fell in love with? How is this in the top 10?!” Now I’ll be the first to admit, there was a time when I didn’t get it either. When I heard that a fanbase grew around a My Little Pony reboot, I thought people were losing their minds. But, on one fateful day in 2014, my curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to watch ONE episode that seemed interesting to me. Unfortunately, it was the first episode in season two, and I had no idea what was going on within the first few minutes. So then I decided to watch the entirety of season one and then ONLY watch that episode in season two. And the episode after that because apparently, it was a two-parter. And then I watched the next episode after THAT because it also seemed interesting to me, plus the episode after that, for no reason other than I just wanted to. And then I watched all the rest of the series until the season four finale. And the two spin-off movies called Equestria Girls and Equestria Girls: Rainbow Rocks. Soon, I found myself reading fan-fiction, writing fan-fiction, looking at fanart, and even reading these spin-off comics that aren’t even canon, but I just couldn’t leave this magical world because it TOOK ALMOST A WHOLE YEAR FOR THE FIFTH SEASON TO PREMIER! ALL BECAUSE I JUST WANTED TO WATCH AN EPISODE WHERE A CHAOS CREATURE MENTALLY BROKE OUR MANE CHARACTERS! AND YES! I DID WRITE MANE INSTEAD OF MAIN BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT THIS SHOW DOES TO YOU! IT MAKES YOU SO ACCUSTOMED TO THE WRITING AND LINGO, THAT’S WITHIN BOTH THE SHOW AND IT’S INSANE FANDOM, THAT YOU’LL END UP CATCHING YOURSELF FROM SAYING MANEHATTAN INSTEAD OF MANHATTAN!
>SCREAMS WITH INSANITY<
So as you can tell, this show is surprisingly good once you get infested.
The biggest hook it has is the animation. While it doesn’t beat The Amazing World of Gumball’s quality, it is pretty impressive when considering that it’s all done in flash animation. Most flash animated cartoons tend to look cheap and slow, and Friendship is Magic is thankfully one of the rare exceptions. The movements are insanely smooth, and the facial expressions are pretty comical to look at. Even in the background of scenes, viewers will notice a lot of little jokes the animators put in. Seriously, the biggest reason why I kept watching the series for so long was that it was nice to look at (which is the case for most people, from what I’ve heard). And the best part? The animation somehow gets better with each passing season. And only 0.1% of the time does it show it’s cheapness, which isn’t that big of a deal considering there are two hundred and thirty-two episodes with a twenty-two-minute runtime. That’s nearly five thousand, one hundred, and four hours of animation that’s good for 99.9% of the time. While you could argue that it’s not the best, it is still pretty good animation quality.
Another thing that drew me in was the comedy. Keep in mind, this doesn’t mean Friendship is Magic is the funniest show on the list (that also goes to Gumball). Humor is subjective, and just because I found myself laughing with this series, that doesn’t mean everyone will be on the same page. That being said, I was surprised by the fact that I found the show funny in the first place. It’s hard to pinpoint what type of humor the show relies on (for me, at least). For some cases, Friendship is Magic has dialogue-based jokes that use smart or random lines to get a laugh out of audiences. Other times it's visual humor that requires slapstick or comical facial expressions that will make people laugh. But while its comedy falls between two different spectrums, that doesn’t change the fact that I find myself losing it every once in a while. Even during some of the worst episodes of Friendship is Magic, there’s at least one line or gag that got me to chuckle at least once.
However, both the animation and the comedy cannot top the main selling point of this series: The characters. Friendship is Magic might just have one of the biggest cast of characters out of any show on this list. Most of them manage to be funny, relatable, and are downright likable to watch. What’s even more astonishing is how well this show handles character growth. To be fair, there can be certain characters whose development is slow, but for the most part, everybody grows significantly with each new lesson they’ve learned. There are even moments when the characters say something along the lines of “I’m no longer that pony I used to be anymore because I finally learned how to change.” However, this doesn’t mean that every pony in the show is worth the time. There are a few unlikeable characters, but they’re either meant to be unlikable, forgotten after an episode’s end, or are redeemed after a triumphant return.
This is good because it’s the characters that make the stories in the show work. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is split into two different storytelling genres: Slice of life comedy and adventure fantasy. And unlike Steven Universe, it’s Friendship is Magic that mixes both these genres together perfectly. I’m not joking when I say that an episode where Twilight rekindles an old friendship can be just as intriguing as an episode where Twilight fights this soul-sucking centaur made to look like the devil. Hell, some fans even argue that the slice of life episodes are even better than the adventurous episodes. Because while the adventure episodes are cool and action-packed, it’s the slice of life episodes where the characters are allowed to grow the most and are actually given time to be themselves. As for the grand adventures, while their fun to see, the cast is forced to stick to their central personality traits to move the plot forward.
Unfortunately, as fun as this show can be, I can’t wholeheartedly recommend it. Not because there are elements that I think are bad, but because there are elements that might turn people away from watching. And the most significant repulse this show has is also the most important hook.
Yes, the characters in this show are great, but there’s also a lot of them. Some might even say too many. By season nine alone, there are a total of twenty-seven different characters that have the possibility of taking/sharing the spotlight in an episode. And that’s not even counting important figures, recurring antagonists, supporting characters, and even recognizable background ponies (yes, that’s a thing). Because if you want to add those to the mix, you’ve got yourself a total of one hundred and twenty-seven characters (give or take). That is one hundred and twenty-seven different names, faces, and personalities to try to keep track of. Luckily the personalities are easy enough to remember, and it’s mostly the most (in)famous figures that make a return. Even for some of the obscure characters, the show is kind enough to give a brief recap so the audience can get caught up. However, this is reasonably a lot to take in for a casual viewer. Case in point, in season eight, the show decided to add six new characters to the main cast, and it only took me a season and a half to learn their names correctly. It’s even worse since these “new” characters can sometimes feel like carbon copies of the Mane Six (Yes, that’s how the main six characters in the show are referred to as. Deal with it).
And the excessive amount of unnecessary characters are just one issue to deal with. The lessons that the show teaches are another. Before I say anything, I want to clarify that this show has fantastic lessons it teaches kids. In fact, there are even great lessons that are perfect for adults and only adults (know your audience, I guess). However, here’s the thing about morals: Not everyone will share the same view on what’s good and bad to teach children. Every person on this planet has their own life experiences, and with those experiences come different ideas of how the world works. One person can believe that a lesson is good, where others view it as awful and potentially dangerous. Things get especially bad when specific morals are misinterpreted or taken too literally. The best example is the episode “Do Princesses Dream of Magic Sheep.” I believe that there are two possible lessons within the episode. One is that to truly be forgiven, a person must seek forgiveness from themselves and others. The other conceivable moral is that the cure for self-destruction is to get over it and move on without any professional help whatsoever. Now, take a wild guess on which lesson gets talked about more. And in all honesty, I blame poor/rushed writing that causes specific morals to be muddled, as well as a person’s own life experience in whether or not you find an episode’s lesson to be intriguing or insulting.
Another thing that depends on one’s own personality is (kinda spoilers ahead) how this show handles reformations. I may have commented on how Steven Universe uses redemption poorly, but it’s even worse in Friendship is Magic. This show seems to have the idea that the transition from bad to good is as simple as flipping a light switch. Now, on the one hand, this is not something I should be mad about. The show’s title is Friendship is Magic. So, of course, the series would push that making friends will lead to peace and prosperity. Where making enemies will lead to war and violence. The problem is that from a storytelling standpoint, it isn’t that entertaining. Or, at the very least, not as much as it should be. The art of a good reformation is taking the time for the transition to be believable. Characters suddenly deciding to become good seemingly out of nowhere will do nothing but have audiences rip their hair out of frustration. It doesn’t help that most of the villain’s reasoning and backstories are pretty pathetic when they actually should be sympathetic. However, while the reformation itself can be frustrating, I personally think some characters are made more intriguing post redemption. Don’t get me wrong, these villains were great as they were, being the perfect mix of both funny and terrifying. But when the show actually allows characters to grow and deserve the hand-er-hoof of friendship, they begin to have more fascinating personalities to dissect. Now, not everyone is going to feel this way. And if you genuinely believe these villains were better as villains, I can absolutely see why. But for me, I’ve come to enjoy how far these ex-cons have come from their more evil days. 
But none of this compares to the final controversial element that this show has to offer, where there is a fifty/fifty chance that you’re either going to love it or hate it. I, of course, am talking about...the songs. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic has four different types of songs. Depending on the episode, these musical numbers have many purposes. They can move the story forward, only work within the episode’s context, try to one-up Disney, and reveal everything you need to know about a character. Now here’s the thing about the music: I don’t hate it. I’ll admit that the lyrics are pretty lackluster most of the time, but at least most of them sound pleasing to my ears. But I have heard how some people seem to hate these little numbers, and I’m willing to put money on that fans even skip them. Everybody has their own tastes in music, and there’s nothing I can do to convince them otherwise. Only respect their opinions and hope they do the same to mine.
In the end, your enjoyment of this series, once again, depends on who you are. Some of you might think this is a dumb kid's show that should only be viewed by children. Some of you will understand that this show has great characters, comedy, and animation, but you just don’t think it’s for you. And some of you might be like me. A person overwhelmed with curiosity over the weirdest phenomenon in the last eleven years and ended up being pleasantly surprised with how magical the show turned out to be.
(And just a heads up, you don’t have to watch the Equestria Girls spin off series or movies in order to enjoy Friendship is Magic. EG isn’t technically canon, and the only noteworthy thing that makes it worthwhile is Sunset Shimmer. And while I personally don’t hate it, I completely understand how others will. But you do need to see My Little Pony: The Movie (2017), though. It surprisingly plays a big part in season 8 and beyond.)
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letterboxd · 4 years
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Kid Detectives, Adult Problems.
As The Kid Detective becomes “a surprising darling” of a hit with our members, Jack Moulton talks to its Canadian writer-director Evan Morgan about broken projectors, the pressure of proving yourself, and what happens when precocious kids grow up.
“The premise felt immediately funny but it also felt immediately sad and painful.” —Evan Morgan
A growing number of indie films over the past decade recognize that ‘coming-of-age’ is not a teen-exclusive life event—indeed, that it often takes decades to work out who we are, versus who people perceive us to be. The Kid Detective takes that premise and steals off into the night with it, blending noir with indie slacker in an offbeat, genre-flipping tale of a washed-up, thirty-something private eye who was once a star solver of local mysteries.
Adam Brody (Ready or Not) stars as Abe Applebaum, the detective in question, who seizes a chance to step back into the small-town limelight when a young woman (Sophie Nélisse) asks him to help find her boyfriend’s murderer. Veep’s Sarah Sutherland also stars as Abe’s secretary, taking calls about lost cats and other inane mysteries.
Reviews on Letterboxd praise the “delicious premise” that explores “the darkness lurking beneath the surface of small-town America”. They also appreciate Brody’s “phenomenally pathetic” performance, and the unexpected swerve in the final twenty, noting that “sometimes movies don’t recover from a shift in tone in the third act… but here it all [falls] into place”.
The Kid Detective is the directing debut of Toronto filmmaker (and Letterboxd member) Evan Morgan, who first received attention for The Dirties (2013), an alternately funny and upsetting micro-budget dark comedy in found-footage style, which he produced, co-wrote and co-edited. Morgan’s work is drenched in pop culture: Abe’s talent for deduction is demonstrated by how he digests movie narratives; The Dirties, too, has endless movie references. So we were chuffed to quiz Morgan about the films that have played an important role in his life.
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What was premiering The Kid Detective at the 2020 Toronto Film Festival like for you, under the current conditions? Evan Morgan: We were in quite a rush to get the film finished for the online platform that they had made—I signed off on the final cut on Thursday and then I was reading a review of the movie by Saturday. I was still in that mode of trying to scrutinize everything and implement my final notes, and then all of a sudden the movie was done and I could never touch it again. It certainly was a surreal transition to make that quickly.
It was also extremely gratifying to see people respond to it for the first time. We knew that we weren’t making a movie that was for all tastes but when you’re reading the first response from the first person who’s ever reviewed it and they’re picking up on stuff you intended, you start to let your spine unclench a little bit. You can sort of finally say goodbye to the process of making something and enjoy the process of people interacting with it.
Have you been reading the Letterboxd reviews? Obsessively. I’ve been refreshing Letterboxd all the time. I’ve been joking with my editor and composer a lot about how people posting their reviews on Letterboxd, on their YouTube channel, or other little outlets would never expect the filmmakers to be instantly reading their reviews.
You’re also a member! How do you use Letterboxd? I’ve always been a big film nerd. Ever since I was a teenager I was making lists at the end of the year and obsessing over an order that would always change. A friend of mine, Matthew Miller, who produced The Dirties, recommended that I hop on Letterboxd and instantly I was going through the library rating and organizing everything, and it became a real slippery slope. I remember spending hours on it in the first week.
Now, after actually having made a movie that’s on a larger scale, I’ve found that my sensitivity has changed a lot in the last year. I’m less inclined to give a star rating. I’m happy just to catalog the film so I can reflect on it and just use the ‘like’ button. That’s been an interesting shift in my relationship with how I see movies after having finally completed this project.
I know this idea had been gestating a while for you, what was the seed of the story? I’d written a short film in film school, which I never shot, that was about a child detective who was still a child and was solving grisly murders. I was obsessed with the first season of The OC and I thought Adam Brody was so funny. I was impressed with how he broke out of the formula of that show. I knew he was someone I really wanted to work with and we happened to cross paths at Sundance because The Dirties was premiering at Slamdance. It was clear to us that we shared a similar sense of humor and taste.
I was looking back on my old ideas and I saw an opportunity to re-conceive this one for him because I immediately identified with the protagonist. I’ve always known I wanted to be a filmmaker and thus had that sense of expectation where people would joke: “he’ll grow up to be the next Spielberg!” It’s incredible encouragement when you’re young but it also creates this unfortunate sense of pressure where you’re beholden to a future that you actually haven’t achieved or lived.
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When I graduated film school, I was suddenly left in the space of my own apartment where now it was up to me to actually make this happen, to write and direct a feature film. The process acquires this unfortunate pressure because it’s not just about watching ideas unfold in front of me, I also have something to prove. I was at a point in my life where I was doing a lot of writing and not having great success in terms of actually finishing a script so this premise resonated with me and I saw an opportunity for people to connect to this character in their own way.
I revisited The Dirties after watching The Kid Detective and I finally understood why there were those huge The OC posters in Matt and Owen’s edit suite. I assume that was your idea? Yeah, it was. We were all big fans of that show. The cultural references they made were things that were important to us at that particular moment and we loved Seth Cohen [Brody’s character]. When I ran into Adam at Sundance, I shared a link to The Dirties, forgetting that his face was in the background of about twenty minutes of our movie. We were back in our hotel that night and it suddenly just occurred to us—“wait a minute, shit. We should probably warn him that his face is a big character!”
How did you conduct your research into detective work? What excited me about this premise was the character and not so much the genre. I think the genre is alluring in a sense that it’s so hallowed. The set pieces are so familiar in terms of the PI office, the receptionist and the glass of scotch. That stuff was all super cool and enticing, but I was never a big mystery person. I was intimidated by the process of writing because it felt very much outside of my wheelhouse.
The first thing I did was buy a bunch of Raymond Chandler books from the Philip Marlowe series. I read those super quickly and thought they were super funny. I also read a bunch of Encyclopedia Brown books. So, the world of The Kid Detective exists between these two realms. I started watching bad TV procedurals where the detectives try and find the victim within the span of 42-minutes just to absorb as much as I possibly could.
Here you have a whimsical directorial approach while the film reflects upon a cynical, changing world. In comparison, The Dirties also deals with young adult trauma but couldn’t be further from this in style. Can you talk about your use of juxtaposition this time around? There was no more fun experience than shooting The Dirties. It really was a film made by four best friends having an endless sleepover in their parents’ basement. That’s where the energy, the life, and the humor of the film comes from. We were always relying on the darker component of the dramatic payoff to provide us with a structure so that we could goof around as much as we wanted knowing that it wasn’t all for nothing. Those dramatic stakes would provide it with a different kind of technical legitimacy. We didn’t have any money to make it but it didn’t have to look like a big Hollywood film because it was made by the characters.
It wasn’t a conscious decision to recreate the same dynamic with The Kid Detective in terms of dealing with dramatic issues in a very light way. The premise felt immediately funny but it also felt immediately sad and painful. I wanted to find a way to wrap them together without forfeiting the humor or the reality of the characters. It’s interesting how a lot of people are responding to the way the movie reveals itself to be dark because, for me, this was always inevitable. If you’re going to tell a story about a stunted adult, like a kid detective who never really grows up, the only way for the character to grow up is to confront something that is so sinister that it would break them from their selfishness.
Which detective movies most influenced The Kid Detective? The biggest films that were in my head when I was writing this movie—and also in terms of our aesthetic—were Chinatown and Blue Velvet. Chinatown was a movie that I had more of a relationship with as a teenager than I did the older Humphrey Bogart movies like The Big Sleep and The Maltese Falcon. Blue Velvet also has a suburban setting that reveals this darker underbelly—two characters driving around in a convertible, interviewing people, and putting themselves in greater and greater risk. Those were the movies that we wanted you to be able to put the film on the shelf with.
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Jim Carrey in ‘Ace Ventura: Pet Detective’ (1994).
Which film made you want to become a filmmaker? This is an easy one for me. I was a very big fan of Jim Carrey when I was eleven and I remember seeing Ace Ventura: Pet Detective for the first time and having my mind blown. I didn’t even know what some of those jokes were referring to, but I was so delighted by his energy and the absurdity of that movie. It invited this ferocious interest in acting and consequentially, the world of film. I got really excited when I heard he was working on his first dramatic feature and that it was going to be directed by Peter Weir since I was already a fan of Dead Poets Society.
I remember going to see The Truman Show with my family on the first night that it played and the projector broke about an hour into the movie. I was broken—I knew that was I watching my favorite movie that I’d ever seen. I was absolutely blown away by the world and the story. After about 30 minutes, the theater staff came out and started offering vouchers to see it again but I wouldn’t let my parents leave—I said “no, we have to stay and finish it!”—and then I was rewarded with what remains my favorite movie ending ever.
That was the point when my interest shifted from wanting to be in front of the camera and the center of attention. I was kind of the class clown as a child. If you’d asked at the time, I’d say I wanted to be a comedian. This was the moment where I decided I wanted to tell stories and start writing scripts.
Which coming-of-age protagonist did you relate to the most as a teenager? Not super original, but I was obsessed with The Catcher in the Rye as a teenager. I don’t know if I necessarily saw my experience reflected in a movie—I’m sure it’s out there. Rushmore was another film that Adam and I used as a reference when we were pitching this movie, in how The Kid Detective exists between that and Chinatown. It’s also about a character dealing with his own expectations of himself and ultimately having to evolve out of his selfishness.
I think that there’s something about the coming-of-age genre that is very special to me and I continue to really appreciate and recognize it. I really enjoyed Adventureland, which came out about eleven years ago and it’s sort of underrated. I guess in its own way, Blue Velvet is a coming-of-age story too. Those are the ones that are the top of my list.
What are your favorite Canadian films that really could not be made anywhere else but Canada? It seems I should have an immediate answer to that question. It just proves how bad Canadians are at celebrating themselves. There was a movie called Monsieur Lazhar that stars Sophie Nélisse, who’s the leading actress in our film. It was her first film role at eleven and it’s an incredibly sensitive and quiet movie that was nominated for Best Foreign Language Film at the Oscars that year. That’s a really amazing example of Canadian filmmaking at its best.
If you’ve had time to watch any films this year, what is your favorite film of 2020 so far? This is another tough one for me because I was honestly so immersed in trying to complete The Kid Detective—we were editing intensely from the very beginning of the year and throughout the lockdown. I was so exhausted by that process that I lost track of what was happening in terms of new releases, so I watched quite a few old movies and there were a few movies I revisited.
The movie that probably had the biggest impact on me was Midsommar, from last year. I couldn’t believe the precision and how unshakable it was in terms of those images. It got me excited again in the way that sometimes you feel when you have to see a movie more than once in order to truly see it, because the first time you’re dispensing your expectations. Maybe you wanted to like it or maybe you didn’t want to like it, but the second time you don’t have the same anticipation, and as a result you notice things that you didn’t notice previously.
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‘The Kid Detective’ is in select US theaters now.
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