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addictedtostorytelling · 2 years

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Given Eric isn't main credits until season three, what Greg moments do you think prompted audiences in S1 and S2 to latch onto his character enough to promote him to main credit status? I can't fathom the original show without him, nor how the production crew stalled on not wanting to lock him in sooner, as he feels so integral to the cast in the later seasons.

hi, anon!

i think the path to greg becoming a fan favorite and eventually being promoted to main character status began with him functioning differently than the other minor lab tech characters on the show did almost from the get-go.

as i talk about here, the csi writers generally imbue all of their minor characters (excepting the one-off ones) with at least one distinctive trait: jacqui franco gets to be friends with catherine, david phillips has his puppy-dog crush on sara, bobby dawson is a good ol' southern boy, ronnie litre is prone to telling personal stories as he works on questioned documents, etc., etc., etc.

but right from the start, greg had more than one of these traits, which automatically made him feel a little more "rounded" than the other lab rats—more 3d, as it were.

in the first place, there was his aesthetic—eric has talked about how he purposefully chose to have greg wear his trademark flamboyant tees and hawaiian shirts and have wacky haircuts so that he'd be visually memorable—but then there was also his playful, goof-off personality; his quirky hobbies (which we start learning about very early on); and his high usage rate throughout various episodes*.

* while i haven't done any real statistical analysis, i feel like we see much more of greg in s1 than we do of any other lab rat. everyone else is used much, much more sporadically (and especially as there are many lab rats, such as, say, charlotte meridian, who appear only once or twice and then are never seen or heard from again).

but even beyond that, i think the thing that really got greg "in" was that by the end of s1 and certainly into s2, he had (perhaps by way of his high usage rate) actually formed distinct relationships with almost all of the main characters.

while many of the other lab tech characters (particularly in the beginning) were really only there to convey necessary information and were shown to have personal relationships perhaps with only one or two of the main csis at most (again, see jacqui franco), greg was imbued with a noteworthy personality that lent itself to making the main characters react to and play off of him and so developed personal relationships with pretty much every field mouse.

his scenes also tended to be somewhat longer and more in-depth than the standard "lab rat gives the csis a report" blips we got with other minor characters; there were many instances of him just hanging out, being in on the team banter, particularly with the junior members of team graveyard.

that his squirrelliness and tendency toward mischief around the lab annoys grissom while his flirtatious nature alternately amuses and offends catherine and nick and warrick (former high school jocks that they are) can't help but tease him for his high-strung geekery while sara very much in spite of herself finds him charming when she's not busy rolling her eyes at him all contributes to the sense that he's his own complete person and not just a mechanism by which to move the plot forward.

all of the above points mark greg as "different" right from the beginning.

so in terms of actual scenes that endeared him to the audience and made him stand out from the other lab techs:

in general, any scene where greg makes a big, elaborate presentation of his dna findings, and particularly ones that involve him wearing costumes and/or using props.

in episode 01x01 "pilot," in his very first appearance, talking about anal swabs being "money." i mean, that's some killer dialogue for his introduction.

in episode 01x04 "pledging mr. johnson," the scene where he floats his theory on the case to grissom while eating ben & jerry's ice cream straight out of the carton. it's such a good characterization moment for their dynamic.

in episode 01x15 "table stakes," the scene where he wears the showgirl's headdress and dances in the hall, flabbergasting catherine and grissom because, like, what a visual.

in episode 01x15 "table stakes," the scene where he flaunts the fact that he is both well-rested and well-fed to an overworked, dead tired sara ("a couple of glasses of merlot. rack of lamb on my day off. i slept like a baby yesterday. you look horrible") because it's one of those "he's such a charming little shit" moments where you can't help but like him, plus it characterizes his dynamics with nick and sara.

in episode 02x07 "caged," his elaborate presentation to nick where he draws out the the molecular structures of the protein freehand and off of the top of his head because it shows off how much of a genius he truly is ("i know what you all think of me: i’m just another pretty face who got to where i am by sleeping with catherine. but seriously, phi beta kappa, stanford. can i help it if i’m hip?").

in episode 02x01 "burked," his rambling story to grissom about how he learned about anal heroin usage while living in new york because it's comedy gold and again a good showcase of his and grissom's "exasperated, long-suffering father and inexhaustible, weirdo son" dynamic.

in general, his "crush on sara" storyline that plays throughout s2, particularly in episodes 02x04 "bully for you," 02x11 "organ grinder," and 02x18 "chasing the bus" because it's sweet and sympathetic and humanizing.

in episode 02x08 "slaves of las vegas," the scene where he sticks markers up his nose to explain the erotic straw usage and teases grissom about knowing bdsm terminology because, again, what a visual.

in episode 02x20 "cats in the cradle," his famous "i could've been a rockstar" drum solo scene, complete with improvised rubber glove hat and monster face mask because it's just so quintessentially greg and so memorable.

in episode 02x23 "the hunger artist," the scene where nick and warrick hassle him about eating "college cuisine" because it highlights his dynamics with them and also shows how he always just kind of does his own thing.

of course, to my mind, the kind of linchpin moment where greg really becomes a viable option for elevation to main character status comes in episode 02x18 "chasing the bus," when he goes out into the field for the first time and finds himself equally overwhelmed and intrigued by the experience.

that episode shows us greg's serious side and introduces the idea that he's capable of more than just the wacky antics we have seen from him to date at the lab.

the writers were absolutely testing the waters with him there, seeing if he could carry the weight of being a "focus character," and the test was a major success.

from that point on, greg was shown to want something, and the fact that he did gave the audience something to root for with him. that's where his storyline really begins in earnest.

even though it takes another three seasons before he reaches csi level i, the journey truly starts in that moment when he shows up on the scene of the mass-casualty bus accident, just wanting to help but having no idea (yet) how to do so.

if people hadn't loved greg before that moment, they did afterward.

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

#answered #anon #asks: csi #**#my meta #meta: csi #meta: greg #let's talk shop #csiverse

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elyvorg · 4 years

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“Hey, Maki Roll!” “Hey, Shuichi!”

“...What are you two up to now?”

“Whaddaya mean by that!? We just wanted—” “—to see how our favourite sidekicks are doing!”

“I still can’t believe there’s two of you. And do you really have to finish each other’s sentences like that?”

““Of course!””

“...And talk in unison, too...”

---

@trainingtrioweek Day 6: AU

I couldn’t resist using this opportunity to draw (the happiest ending of) my recent Duplicate Kaito AU. A lot of people seemed to like those posts of mine, and, heck, I wanted to see Kaito and Kaito double-teaming their sidekicks, too.

For those unfamiliar: despite the different body, that is still every bit the same Kaito there. He has exactly the same personality and memories (just with some bonus existential issues that he’s mostly worked out at this point). It’s Kaito, but TWICE.

(some additional very important lore about this AU beneath the cut)

I based New Kaito’s design off a couple of Kaito’s beta designs. He has this body, and then he styled his hair to look like in this one (and also grew a goatee).

See, with his different and more bushy and wavy hair, New Kaito could never quite match Kaito Prime’s up-and-down-spiking “quasar” hairstyle and get it to look as good. So naturally, rather than let him feel inferior, Kaito Prime suggested he could do something totally different with it, something that would work better with his type of hair. What if he gelled just the ends and swirled them around to make his whole head look like a galaxy? That’d be awesome, right? That’s something that Kaito Prime couldn’t ever hope to pull off nearly as well with his hair - plus, it's the perfect complement to his quasar!

This’d also then form the basis of the individual nicknames they get to distinguish them, since their hairstyles are one of the only meaningfully different things about them. After showing off New Kaito’s new hairstyle to their sidekicks, they declare that from now on, while they still each want to be called just “Kaito” whenever possible, if anyone needs to make it clear which Kaito they're talking about or to, they can call them - pause for dramatic effect - Galaxy Kaito and Quasar Kaito!

Shuichi and Maki stare at them blankly. “What’s a quasar?”

"And how does this have anything to do with your hair?"

The Kaitos are aghast. Their sidekicks didn’t already know this? Well, time to educate them!

And so they launch into a doubly-enthusiastic explanation of galaxies and quasars, getting way more in-depth and technical than they need to in a positive feedback loop of space geekery, interrupting each other and finishing each other’s sentences even more than usual because they’re both so excited to talk about this!

...At no point do they properly explain how Galaxy Kaito’s hair looks like a galaxy, much less how Quasar Kaito’s hair is meant to look like a quasar. In fact, they probably begin to suggest different versions of the nicknames that better encapsulate the specific technical parts of a galaxy or a quasar that their hairstyles are supposed to represent, because in their excitement they’ve kind of forgotten that they’re meant to just be coming up with an easy-to-remember way to distinguish them.

All the while, Maki and Shuichi just sort of keep staring, amused at seeing their friends (friend?) being so ridiculous and passionate, but also vaguely wondering, are they going to give this unnecessarily detailed explanation to everyone they meet who needs to know what names to use for them?

Eventually, Maki puts her foot down.

“Shut up for a second and listen. You’re Swirly Kaito, you’re Pointy Kaito. There. Sorted.”

The Kaitos are very indignant - that’s far too ordinary and not nearly as grandiose and space-themed as their ideas! - but despite their protests, those names stick.

---

(bonus: I couldn't help but wonder exactly what Swirly Kaito's hair looked like when he was trying to make it pointy, so I went and drew it...

(and it... actually looks more reasonable than I was expecting, as Wild Anime Hairstyles go? Like, it's a perfectly fine hairstyle on its own. But despite his best efforts, it's very much not the hairstyle Pointy Kaito has, so it's probably still better for Swirly Kaito to take his hair in a whole new direction rather than keeping this style and constantly feeling like he's not quite what he's trying to be.)

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #kaito momota #(i am sad that i can't tag this as kaito twice)#shuichi saihara #maki harukawa #training trio #friends #training trio week 2020 #v3 aus #duplicate kaito au #(shuichi and maki probably shouldn't be in their uniforms here but shush costume design is hard)#we interrupt the deeply issuey kaito content to bring you extremely silly kaito content #look at these dorks #a rare chance to use that tag for the training trio #which usually only contains one (1) singular dork #but here the dork has become plural!

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exlibrisfangirl · 3 years

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( Not Another Fictional Characters Ask Meme! 😬 ) Fandom : Teen Wolf Numbers : I want to say all of them because I think that would be interesting , but if not , then 1 , 3 , 8 , 9 , 12 , 18 , 19 , 20 , & 27 ?

*runs hands together gleefully* HAHAAA. Fasten yo seatbelt, friend... 'cuz we're goin' for a RIDE.

1. Who I'd want to be best friends with: Lydia. Good gravy, the sheer amount of GEEKERY that would go down. We're both bookworms, language nerds, and walking encyclopedias (Ravenclaws, ftw). She's a math and science person, and I'm an arts and humanities person, so between the two of us, we'd have both hemispheres of the brain covered. We have similar, sarcastic senses of humor. Personality-wise, we're polar opposites, but I think we'd complement each other in all the right ways and make a rather formidable team. She's a social butterfly, so she'd push me out of my comfort zone; on the other hand, she's not particularly good at emotions (picking up on others' feelings, being sensitive to others' needs, etc.), which is one of my greatest strengths. Her confidence would counteract my social anxiety, and my empathy would temper her bluntness. She may be a banshee, but she struggles at times with her intuition and figuring out how her powers work; introverted intuition is my leading cognitive function, which, paired with extroverted feeling, makes me unusually adept at gleaning and interpreting subtleties, signs, and symbolism. She's a total badass as a banshee, don't get me wrong... but she'd be even better at it with someone like me by her side. (This is one of the reasons why I wish we'd seen more interaction between her and Deaton: he's the same personality type as me - INFJ - and his knowledge and guidance could have been really interesting and helpful.)

Anyway. I love Lydia Martin, and I want to be her bestie. Move over Allison.

3. Who I'd most want to be marooned on a desert island with: Stiles, hands down. I would never, ever get bored. Also, he's a phenomenal problem-solver, so if anyone has a chance of surviving on - and/or escaping from - a desert island, it's Stiles. He'd figure out how to feed, shelter, protect, and deliver us... and I'd keep him sane, lol.

8. Who would be my sworn rival/archenemy: Ugh... Kate. I loathe her. Not only is she just... vile... in general, but she bears an uncanny resemblance to my abusive sociopath of a younger sibling who made my life a living hell when we were teenagers (one of the ways in which I relate to Chris' character is his inner conflict between resenting Kate and feeling responsible for what she became) aaand served time for statutory rape (I HATE Kate for what she did to Derek). If that b*tch ever made the mistake of crossing my path in person, I'd take her down or die trying.

Go to hell, Kate... and, for the love of all things, STAY THERE THIS TIME.

9. Who would most likely be my frenemy: Maybe Jackson? If Lydia were my bff, that would put me in close proximity with Jackson on a regular basis, and I think we'd really get on each other's nerves. I'd be very critical of their relationship - and him in general - and I can only imagine how he'd feel about that, lol. He's such a douchebag...

...but, fortunately, he matures quite a bit.

12. Who rides all the scariest attractions at an amusement park/carnival: Malia and Allison. I don't know why. It just makes sense to me. *shrugs*

18. Who is most in need of a good ass-kicking: GERARD, that evil bastard. Thankfully, he does eventually get it (although, unfortunately for a lot of people, not until the series finale). It's the only thing Kate has ever done, probably in her whole life, that I don't disagree with, lol.

P.S. Chris calmly walking away from the Argent family armory - wherein Kate is loudly and viciously tearing Gerard to pieces, and then (hopefully... it's implied) dying herself - will forever be one of the most deliciously satisfying moments of the entire series for me.

19. Who is most in need of a hug and some TLC: Oh my goodness. There are so many on this show - SOOO MANY - but I think the characters who probably need this the most are Chris and Isaac, because we never really see them getting looked after and taken care of after terrible things happen to them? Like? The closest we get - for either of them - is a brief shot of Chris hugging Isaac after Allison's death and a few seconds of them talking before they fly off to France together (and then we neither see nor hear mention of Isaac ever again, wtf show), but we never see anyone comforting Chris after he loses his entire family, almost dies, and is left to deal with a lifetime of trauma all alone - or Isaac, after he is orphaned and left to unpack years of childhood abuse and cope with severe PTSD all alone - and that's really, REALLY messed up. My poor, traumatized babies deserve ALL the therapy, cuddles, and supportive friends the world has to offer. No more struggles... give them SNUGGLES.

20. Whose storyline I would rewrite: Hmm. Okay, so this isn't one I'd totally rewrite, per se, but rather... flesh out and develop in more depth and detail: Deaton. I feel like there was so much wasted potential with his character, especially during the whole emissary-darach storyline. I would have loved to see Deaton's past as emissary to Talia and the Hale pack explored more, as well as more of a relationship developed with Derek when he becomes the Hale alpha (and later inherits Talia's ability to transform into a wolf), etc. Wouldn't it have been interesting to see Derek going to Deaton for help/advice when he thinks he's losing his powers? So many possibilities. I might need to write some fic.

*chinhands* TELL ME MORE.

27. Who has the most interesting name: Stiles is perhaps the most obvious one, but names carry a lot of weight and meaning in general on this show, which makes my name-nerd spidey sense tingle. (Seriously... names - origin, etymology, meaning, historical significance, etc. - have been a special interest of mine since I was a kid, so names are something I tend to instinctively read into, especially when it comes to fictional characters. I've done thousands of hours of research, and I keep a running list of names I have researched in a massive Word Document - it originally dates from 2004, at which point I transcribed all the names I'd already had been recording in a notebook for years - so I know... Quite A Bit about names.)

Anyway. Stiles.

Condensed version: Mieczysław is a Polish name derived from the Slavic mechi ("sword") and slava ("glory, fame"). Interestingly, the meaning of the name isn't particularly significant to the character (unless you want to extrapolate in a loosely metaphorical way and substitute baseball bat for sword, which is certainly possible, and absolutely delightful), but the way the name is used - or NOT used - is extremely interesting. Stiles' real given name is not revealed until Season 6, and it is finally revealed as everyone has lost their memories of Stiles and are trying to remember him again. (BOOM, SON. SYMBOLISM.) Sheriff Stilinski explains in the big reveal that: a) he had wanted to name Stiles after his wife's old man because Mieczysław the Elder had been such a wonderful man and father, whilst he himself had unfortunately been saddled with a not-so-commendable dad; and b) the closest Stiles could get to pronouncing "Mieczysław" as a kid was "mischief", which he was - and is - very much the embodiment of. Magnificent.

Not Another Fictional Characters Ask Meme

#oftincturedwords #answered ask #and the meme goes on #fictional characters #fandom #this is my design #teen wolf #lydia martin #stiles stilinski #isaac lahey #jackson whittemore #chris argent #kate argent #gerard argent #alan deaton

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Eighty One

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

July 16th, 1999

Remy glanced up from the back corner of the library as a girl laughed a little too close to comfort for him. His mom had let him come to the library on the condition that she be there (and monitor what he checked out, but neither of them acknowledged that), but he was allowed as much time as he wanted in the teen section. Which meant he could sneak in some magical-girl-manga-reading.

He checked to make sure his mom wasn’t around and continued to read. He loved this, probably a little too much for his own good, but he didn’t care right now. Right now, he just wanted to make sure the Sailor Scouts would get out of peril safely.

And maybe, one day, he’d find a place where he could rent out the books and not have to pray that no one checked out the one he was reading while he was gone.

February 14th, 2002

Remy looked over his list again, grumbling. That idea was too sappy, that one was too plain, that one didn’t have the right amount of sentimentality, the other one had too much! How hard could it be to find a proposal plan that worked?! Seriously, he was going insane figuring this out, and he hadn’t even decided on a ring, yet!

Maybe he should do that first? But no, he wanted the ring to fit the occasion too. Because Emile was a traditions sort-of guy, but Remy wasn’t. And he was pretty sure Emile would kill him if Remy bought Emile a diamond, but that meant the options for rings just grew.

“Decisions, decisions...” Remy grumbled, staring at the paper. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. He had no idea what he was going to do.

An idea struck him over the head in an instant. What if he proposed at Sleep Easy, once it was clear that the store was going to be a success? Opening day would also be dramatic, but Remy wanted to be sure that the store would do well, in case in the heat of the moment he made allusions to the success of the store relating to the success of their marriage. Yeah, that could work!

...Gay marriage would have to be legal for them to actually get married, but hey, they could probably invite their friends and Emile’s family to a ceremony even if the actual marriage part didn’t happen.

Remy smiled. Yeah, he could find a ring that he’d be willing to show off to the patrons of Sleep Easy in a ring box as he proposed to Emile. He could work with that...

He was rooting around in his desk for another piece of paper and a pen to write down more ideas when there was a knock at the office door. Remy turned with a smile to see Emile there. “Hey, stranger,” Remy said. “What’s up?”

“You’ve been in here for at least two hours. It’s Valentine’s Day. I demand attention,” Emile said, offering a playful smile.

“Oh, come on,” Remy said, letting his arms fall off the armrests of the chair. “You can’t even give me a couple hours to scheme something romantic for you before you want me back with you?”

“For me?” Emile said, moving closer.

Remy slammed the papers into his designated drawer of the desk and locked the drawer. “Uh, no, nuh-uh, you are not reading what this is about, mister!”

“Oh, I see, so you can get grumpy about me keeping the shop from you for literal months but the second I try to read something you wrote I’m not allowed to?” Emile teased.

Remy rolled his eyes. “I admitted you were right, that the shop was much better as a surprise. Same thing applies with this. You don’t want to know.”

Emile did an exaggerated pout before he grinned. “So, what’s up? Do you have the time to spare to pay attention to me?”

“Yes, honey, I can spend time with you,” Remy said, rolling his eyes and standing up, leading Emile out of the room. “What are you hoping to rope me into today?”

“Maybe a little...afternoon out?” Emile asked, grinning. “I’m willing to take you to the local comic shops to browse, maybe buy a few things that you’ve been eyeing for a while.”

Remy’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, really?”

“Mhm,” Emile agreed. “And then we could go out to dinner, and maybe afterwards we could head to the park, stargaze a bit, and have a little bit of time to ourselves this Valentine’s.”

“As opposed to every other day when we’re, what, surrounded by children?” Remy asked, amused.

“No, but we have outside worries, and things to focus on that aren’t each other,” Emile said with a shrug. “And I think just focusing on each other for a bit would be nice.”

“You’re right, that would feel good,” Remy agreed, smiling softly. “I’ve been way too caught up in my own head recently and I want to spend some quality time with you.”

“So what say you to going out and having some fun, girl?” Emile asked with a wink.

“I say...sounds perfect,” Remy said, kissing Emile’s cheek and grabbing his jacket.

Emile grinned and Remy let himself be led out to their car and got in the passenger’s seat. Emile got in the driver’s seat and started the car, a smile on his face. Remy frowned when instead of a left out of the neighborhood, Emile took a right. “This isn’t the way to the comics shop,” Remy said.

“Yes it is,” Emile said.

“No, Emile, I’ve driven there a thousand times, we make a left if we want to get there. Right is how we get out of the city,” Remy said.

Emile just grinned and continued to keep driving.

“Emile, I don’t understand you, and I hope you realize that when you realize you’re wrong, I will be saying I told you so,” Remy said.

“That’s fine,” Emile said, “Because I’m not wrong.”

Remy rolled his eyes and let Emile drive, arms crossed. He listened to the music on the radio, not really paying attention to anything until he noticed they were in the same city that they went to Pride last year. “Emile, where are we going?”

“I told you, we’re going to the comic book store.”

Remy shook his head. “No, seriously.”

“Seriously,” Emile said, pulling into a parking lot and parking the car. “We’re going to the comic book store.”

Remy blinked and got out of the car, looking at the small building in front of them. It didn’t look run down, but it wasn’t some top-of-the-line huge corporation either. Emile led Remy inside and Remy gaped. Wall to wall to wall and dozens of bookshelves were holding comics, graphic novels, and geekery of all kinds. “What?” he asked barely above a whisper. “What is this place?”

“I got on the subscription list for that comics startup you were interested in,” Emile said. “This is their first store. Obviously, they carry some of the bigger comics, but most of their stuff is local, start-up based, and queer.”

Remy looked around in awe. “Unbelievable,” he breathed. “Un. Believable. And you were going to tell me about this?”

“Yeah,” Emile said. “If you weren’t up for going out today I would have told you. But they only opened in January, I figured we should give them a little bit of time to stock everything.”

Remy nodded idly, already drifting towards the shelves upon shelves of comic books. He hesitantly reached for a couple before pulling his hand back and looking at Emile. “Don’t judge me?” he requested.

“Why would I judge you when I literally brought you here to geek out?” Emile asked.

“Because people can be arbitrarily mean and weird about my interests for whatever reason they can tangentially tie to it,” Remy said.

“I’m not people,” Emile said. “I’m your boyfriend.”

Remy considered that a moment, before reaching back to the comic and pulling it out. “I’ve been really wanting to read this series for a while.”

Emile looked at the cover, frowning. “What is it?”

“Think... Sailor Moon crossed with Darkwing Duck,” Remy said, a blush creeping up his face as he realized exactly how stupid that must sound.

“Magical girls crossed with a super-powered duck?” Emile asked skeptically.

“More like...magical girls crossed with found family and crime fighting. Darkwing Duck was the first thing I thought of that you might recognize.” Remy shrugged. “I know it sounds dumb...”

“You kidding me, Rem? That sounds really cool!” Emile exclaimed. “I didn’t take you to be one for magical girls, though.”

“I...well...I always had this guilty pleasure about it,” Remy admitted. “I always wanted that, in a way. The ability to have that confidence wearing a miniskirt.” He laughed weakly.

Emile didn’t. “I think we all have those,” Emile said. “Rem...”

Remy’s stomach sank. “Oh, I know that tone.”

“You’re really sure you’re not trans?” Emile asked, grimacing.

“I...I don’t...know...” Remy admitted. “I always get clocked as trans, I know this, you know this. I like wearing blouses and one day I want to be brave enough to try a dress or a skirt, go full drag. But I never really...” Tears were coming to his eyes. “I never really felt like a full woman for more than a day or so at a time. And the rest of the time I’m mostly happy being a guy. I don’t...I don’t want to be a woman. Not all the time. I just want to be...me. Whoever that is.”

Emile looked Remy up and down and said, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Remy repeated dumbly.

“Okay. You want to be you? Be you. Whether that’s a man, a woman, that non-binary thing we hear about at Pride, or a genderless blob. We can call each other boyfriends for simplicity’s sake if you want, but I won’t judge if you don’t want to be what everyone expects a man to be,” Emile hugged Remy tight as he continued, “I just want you to be happy, Rem. Forcing yourself to say you’re a guy all the time doesn’t make you happy. So if you just want to be Remy, then you absolutely can just be Remy. Not a guy, not a girl. Just you.”

Remy didn’t realize how much he wanted, or needed, to hear those words until he heard them, and he broke down crying. He clutched Emile’s shoulders, comics all but forgotten as he realized that he was safe here. He had a safety here that he hadn’t ever felt with any of his family, including Toby. He was free to be his one hundred percent authentic self, and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have that.

When his tears finally dried, he took a step back from Emile, and he was beaming. “Let’s get these comics, I have a feeling that you’ll like them too,” Remy said, picking up the stack.

Emile smiled genuinely at Remy as he moved around the rest of the shelves, continuing to geek out for as long as they were there. Once they had purchased the comics Remy was interested in, they went to dinner at a sit-down restaurant (which Remy still had to remind himself would not break the bank, much as he worried otherwise), and they went to the local park as the sun was setting. The February air was brisk, but Emile laid out a blanket for the two of them to lie down on, and Remy got settled into Emile’s side, just a hair away from lying on top of him. No one would mistake them for simply being friendly like this, but Remy didn’t care.

“Tonight was nice,” Remy sighed. “I really, really loved it.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Emile said with a smile. “You know I love you, Rem.”

“I love you too, Emile,” Remy said back, a smile lacing his words.

“Hey, Rem?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to come to the next monthly meeting with Dice? It’s coming up at the end of the month...”

“That’s okay, Emile, I’m not too worried about it,” Remy said with a hand-wave, eyes never leaving the sky as the first few stars started twinkling. “If something important happens, I trust you to tell me, or at least...y’know, set up a surprise for me. You wouldn’t keep the information to yourself indefinitely.”

“You love Toby too much to let me get away with that, first of all,” Emile laughed. “Second of all, I love you. I want to see you happy. And I know, one-hundred percent, that this will make you happy. It might take some time and catching up and therapy, but this would be good for you, Rem. I don’t want to hold you back from that.”

“I love you too, I hope you know that.”

“Trust me. I know.”

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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amuseoffyre · 4 years

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Five Fave Fics (or Works)

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world. Tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Reblog and then write your own! I was tagged by @oabsalom Y’all don’t need to, but if you want to jump in, I’ll tag @jadetyle, @ashfae, @summerofspock and @mia-ugly :)

1 - The Inverse Omens collection (Generally PG rating with a couple of M/E chapters - 216k)

This all sprang to life after seeing other peoples’ reverse-role AU doodles. I stupidly let myself ponder how I would do it if I did it and what I would change and now, not only do I have 216k of fic including all of show canon and expanded universe with departments of backstory, frontstory and sidestory but a novel well in progress and a fire under me I haven’t had in ages. I don’t know what it is about these versions of the characters, but I have never enjoyed writing any characters half as much and they never stop surprising me. Also, the Hastur arc in the expanded universe? I did not see that coming and screeched when it happened.

2. Going Overboard (PG - 43k)

Look, sometimes the world goes horrifically tits up and you need to do something soft and warm and happy. A few weeks into the lockdown, I wrote this. I took one of my favourite (although very morally questionable) 80s romcoms - Overboard - and rewrote it as a human AU of Good Omens. It has memory loss! It has social commentary! It has gentle romance! It has more GO references than you can shake a flaming marshmallow sword at! It has a happy, happy ending! And I dare you to say it’s not one of my best GO fics. I love it with all my squishy sappy heart.

3. Anatomy 101 (E - 38k+)

It was meant to be a one shot! A jokey one-shot based off @gingerhaole‘s “What do you think they’re doing down there?” drawing! And now, it’s sprouted legs and is following canon and I’m chasing it down, trying to catch it in a net before it gets carried away! It has feelings and emotional growth and Aziraphale being an absolutely clueless muppet about Crowley’s true intent!

4. The Hunger series (E - 108k)

It’ll be a one-shot, she said. A study in sensuality instead of sex, she said. I don’t think there will ever be genitalia involved, she said. She was very deluded. Still sensual af, yes, but good lord, this series has more kink than I ever expected to write and every bit of it tied intricately up (along with Crowley) in layers of intimacy, growing trust and love. Also, Nanny Ashtoreth may step on me at will.

5. Crossing Paths (G - 69k)

Take two immortal characters, add one research-hungry history nerd who has travelled quite a lot, mix in random interesting historical events from onthisdayinhistory.com and you have Crossing Paths. Let me lob my geekery at you! Let me splatter you with it! Come! Look! History! Facts! Events! NESSIE!

And yes, that is five, but I would like to make an honorary mention to the compilation fic which I do purely for my own amusement and indulgence:

The Bookshop (G - 41k)

Wherein I, a doyenne of many fandoms, attempts to write as many of those fandoms as possible crossing into Aziraphale’s bookshop. Each chapter is a different fandom (or different era of a previously done fandom) and the only rules I have are that the fandom a) has to be set in London and b) happen after the year 1800, when the Bookshop came into being. So far, I’ve hit Harry Potter, Buffy, Narnia, the Bartimaeus trilogy, Doctor Who (twice), Rivers of London, Fleabag, Kinky Boots, Sherlock Holmes, Leverage and more.

#good omens fic #fanfic ho!

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allthisandtea · 7 years

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Hey, friends who play Cards Against Humanity, or would like to, or are library folks, or some combination thereof--if you haven’t seen it, there’s this awesome set of extra cards for CAH that you can print out and use called Cards Against Librarianship. I’m probably going to be printing it out and adding it to our normal deck, and you can find it here.

#cards against humanity #CAH #library stuff #things that amuse me #general geekery

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riderart · 7 months

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Hephestia beside herself.

This gnome artificer pilots a giant (by gnomish standards) mechanical armor to fight in the name of Gond for the rights of the oppressed and downtrodden. Armed with the terrifying Momento Mortar and the Word of Gond and a short temper, she plans to liberate the shit out of a city occupied by a cleric of Bane.

#hephestia odo #memento mortar #I’m unreasonably proud of that name #gnome #d&d #amusing geekery #tomboy tuesday #rider art

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dorksidefiker · 5 years

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A brief thought on David Xanatos

I am weirdly amused by the idea that David Xanatos, Man of Wealth And Taste, being regarded by the folks he grew up with as “Petros Xanatos’ geeky son.” And that, no matter how rich and powerful he gets, there are people in his home town who remember him running down to the drug store when he got his allowance to blow it all on comic books, or staying all day at the cinema watching horror and sci-fi movies.

Xanatos is, and always has been, a geek. He’s learned to be suave, but his fortune is built on Epic Geekery.

#gargoyles #david xanatos #also he has a fucking mullet

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sirkkasnow · 5 years

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03 Semi-Legitimate Uses Of Gunpowder

Ao3 link

07/04/13 Thursday

The household settled into a comfortable routine over the next few days. Chaos was such an underlying constant in Gravity Falls, particularly with the kids around, that throwing another body into the mix made very little difference.

Clary rose early once she’d recovered from the initial shock. Summer schedules for both kids and adults ran late, which made it easy for her to slip into the kitchen before most everyone else. She’d asked Stan whether she could help cook, he’d offhandedly said sure, and the next thing he knew she was baking things.

The contents of the fridge began to dwindle in interesting ways. Frittatas jammed with too many vegetables materialized on the breakfast table. The sour-cream coffee cake she’d made on Tuesday morning was down to crumbs by Wednesday.

“You’re a guest, not the cook,” Stan argued in exasperation that morning in the crowded kitchen. He dug out a second wedge of egg-potato-and-green-stuff from one of the cast iron skillets.

“If you guys ate anything other than pancakes for breakfast, I’d join you, but I like my eggs. Besides, I don’t see you complaining.” Clary eyed his plate, scrubbing down utensils. Her kerchief for the day – there was always a kerchief for the day, wrapped twice and knotted neatly at her throat, the colors and patterns as varied as Mabel’s sweaters – was a splashy watercolor design of pale yellow daisies. “I’m used to cooking for an army anyway.”

Stan cocked a brow at her in question, and caught the brief flicker of her smile. “My place in Baltimore is this huge brownstone. I’ve got eight bedrooms. I ran a boarding house as a sideline, because what else can you do with eight bedrooms?”

“That sounds exhaustin’.”

“Running tours isn’t? I liked it. Lots of law students, a few graduate accountants.” She chuckled over his groan. “Yes, a very, very nerdy household. We ran DD&MD once a week for years.” Stan saw Dipper perk up from the far side of the kitchen table and started a mental countdown to major geekery. “With that many rules lawyers and number-crunchers around the table things got pretty sidetracked at times.” Clary settled into one of the two free chairs, Mabel leaning over to peep her plate.

“Grunkle Stan? Have you got enough left for one more Stancake? Clary, you have to try one!”

“I don’t usually do pancakes, hon.” Clary begged off gently like she had every morning.

“You don’t get it.” Mabel leaned in, eyes widening. “These are Stancakes. They’re unique. You can’t possibly enjoy the full Pines experience without sampling Stancakes.”

Stan rolled his eyes, took up a rubber spatula and coaxed the last of the batter out of its bowl while Mabel made her pitch. Just enough left for a half-size flapjack, fine, that’d do. He finished that off in the skillet while Clary half-heartedly protested, then slid it onto her plate alongside what was left of her eggs. Mabel applied a river of maple syrup and a scatter of edible glitter before any counter-arguments could be offered.

Clary blinked at the twinkling result for a few blank seconds. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” she finally said, and dug in. Mabel stuck out two thumbs up in approval.

Once the Pines clan scattered after breakfast, Clary had been staking out the battered old couch on the porch. Stan had passed her on the way out to the car two mornings in a row now. She wore a wireless earpiece and balanced a laptop on her knees, the picture of professionalism in her summer togs. Sometimes he’d catch bits of what sounded like German as she talked to the air, cajoling or explaining or arguing with whoever was on the far side of the line.

This time he caught her with the computer set to one side, speaking what was definitely German in a soft tone at odds with the usual steel. She spotted him as he tried to slide by and simply relocated her quiet conversation, slipping into the shade of the pines for half an hour before returning to brisk business.

He made a point of keeping an eye on her, and calling out when it was clear she was off the phone. “Hey, Clary!”

“What’s up, Stan?” She leaned back into the cushions as she squinted out at him.

Lawyer humor had turned out to be a rich vein, if a somewhat single-minded one. “What’s the difference between a good lawyer and a bad lawyer?”

She sighed at him in grudging amusement. “A bad lawyer makes your case drag out for years. A good one makes it last even longer. What’s the difference between a good lawyer and a great lawyer?”

“A good lawyer knows the law, a great one knows the judge!” Stan actually chuckled to himself over that one. He straightened, shrugging a shoulder so he could swab off the drop of sweat stubbornly stuck at the tip of his nose.

“You’re not going to outlast me on those, you know.” Clary set aside the computer and strolled over to the wagon, quirking him a momentary grin as she headed around to the back.

“Maybe not. I’m self-taught when it comes to screwing clients over. You’ve got the degree.” Her faint, indignant snort was just audible around the corner. “Whatcha need?” Stan braced his feet and stretched, spine creaking, then came around to see what she was up to.

“The Fourth is tomorrow and I did something a little reckless. I keep forgetting I have these.” She was waist-deep in the wayback, shifting aside a couple of blankets to reveal a flash of brightly-printed color on cheap glossy paper.

“You brought fireworks.” Stan reached past her to hoist the crate. She’d picked out a deluxe assortment of the biggest roadside skyrockets to be had, and he didn’t bother to stifle a twinge of delighted surprise at her audacity.

“Don’t look so shocked. These are legal in Wyoming and there are stands all along the highway at the state borders.”

“All of which have prominent signage sayin’ it’s illegal to transport ‘em across state lines.”

Clary looked fleetingly guilty, then defiant. “You’re right. I read them all and then I ignored them. I’m guessing you know what you’re doing with low-yield explosives. Are you going to help me fire these off or what?”

“You are in luck, Miz Merrick, because I am what passes for the fireworks committee around here, an’ you’ve just bought yourself a ringside seat to this year’s display.” Stan winked and tucked the crate under one arm. “We’re doin’ it on the lake this year. We’re gonna use the old dock and I’ve actually got a permit this time ‘cause the mayor’s a pushover! Which of course just meant it was a little easier to get hold of the good stuff.”

The faint smirk on her lips widened slowly. “Excellent. I was hoping we’d get to blow something up. So we’re going to fire all of these off when the time comes?”

“That we are. Congratulations, you’ve been deputized! Hope you can handle loud noises.”

“I can handle myself just fine, Pines.”

The morning of the Fourth was spent in a frenzy of preparation. Soos, Melody and a grudging but overtime-paid Wendy had the moneymaking end of the venture under control – they would be running concessions at lakeside all evening.

Stan’s job was of course the attractions end of things, which meant explosions, which meant he and Ford were preparing endless mortar racks and crates of mostly-legal fireworks.

Clary, as the spare adult, was recruited into assisting with the munitions. Soos loaned her a paint-spattered canvas work shirt that draped her frame like a tent. Borrowed rubber gloves were cinched in at her wrists with masking tape. Under Ford’s distracted tutelage, she worked patiently on splicing shell fuses into daisy chains.

Stan watched her quick hands for a curious minute. She put as much careful focus into this as she’d put into the hawkweasel thing, perhaps with more concern for potentially blowing off a finger.

They ferried everything down to the lake in relays that afternoon. The oldest, most distant, most splintery of the lake’s docks was where they’d been given permission to set up. The three adults did the bulk of the hauling, dragging setpieces out along the battered planks.

Stan consulted a scrawled-pencil sketch of the layout to keep things more or less in order. Dipper and Mabel were in charge of setting up ‘command central’, which consisted of a few folding chairs, a burn-scarred camp table, and a bulky battery pack for a motley collection of goose-necked lab lamps.

It was after six before they finished most of it. Clary flopped down on the edge of the dock with feet dangling, reading her way through an Oregon fire-safety manual. Mabel and Dipper kicked off their shoes and dashed off down the town beach to mingle with the gathering tourists and locals. Picnics outfitted with grills and beach umbrellas were in full swing by now and the scent of charred hot dogs drifted on the still air.

“Keys, Stanley,” called Ford. Stan tossed them over without bothering to look up. “I’ll be back with the control console in a bit. You’ve got everything you need?”

“We could set all this stuff off by hand, y’know.”

“And leave lengths of fuse lying all over the place? This is so much safer!”

“Not quite as much fun.” Stan waved his brother off, then collected the toolbox and the random bits of picnic stuff they’d hauled down to make the wait until dark more comfortable.

“This is all they’ve got?” Clary muttered, more to herself than to Stan as he hauled over the cooler and set it at her side, elbowing the lid back to fish out a couple of sodas. “This is a twelve-page pamphlet. Most of which consists of ‘do not set up an amateur fireworks display.’” She glanced up to him, accepting a can. “Ford told me that he and the kids actually built a couple of these shells.”

“Chemistry lessons.” Stan shrugged. “Ford knows what he’s doin’, we’ll be fine. We’re gonna hold those until last so that the kiddos can help fire them off. Besides, we’re no amateurs. I’ve been doin’ this for years. Maybe not on this scale.” He looked down the dock along the rows of milk-crate mortar racks, rather pleased with himself. “Usually we’re just firin’ the suckers off from the roof of the Shack for parties.”

“So you’re a pyrotechnician, among your many other titles.” Clary popped her soda can and tapped its edge lightly against his. “Cheers. Nice layout, though I bet it’s just as much fun to improvise.”

“Probably more. This’s a lot of work, but Soos has been layin’ plans since springtime, and what’m I gonna do, say no? If this goes off well he’ll probably pick it up for future years. Not sure if Ford an’ I’ll be here for the next round.”

Stan pivoted and propped himself against the nearest piling, looking out across the lake at the increasing bustle near the main beach. “Though I gotta admit this is a nice way to blow a couple months and we should probably take advantage of the kids’ vacations until they get tired of us.”

“You’ve got just the two grandies, then?” Clary gestured vaguely off down the shoreline. “None of your own?”

“Nah. Too much goin’ on in my life during that stretch.” Way, way too much, he thought. “You?”

“No. Those stars never aligned for me. I’ve got a niece and a nephew, and she’s got two little girls, so I have grand-niblings of my own.”

“Married?” She didn’t sport a ring, but who knew?

“Widowed.”

Oops. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t be. It’s been a long time. You?”

“Married…for six hours. That didn’t end real well.”

She chuckled hollowly into her can. “Neither did mine. Here’s to independence.”

“Siblings?”

“One older sister. You’ve got Ford, and I guess a brother?”

“Shermie, yeah. He’s what passes for the normal one.”

“Someone’s got to be the white sheep in every family. I can assure you that it wasn’t me in mine.” Watching her relax to this extent was a pleasant surprise. Clary had an elbow propped on a bent knee and the starch had gone out of her smile.

“I don’t believe that for a minute.” Stan made a show of looking her up and down, and she went faintly pink under the scrutiny. As usual she was color coordinated, today’s kerchief mostly red with bits of white and blue, hair clipped back with something glassy and scarlet. “Law-abidin’ lady like yourself? Okay, so maybe you smuggle fireworks every now and then, but who wouldn’t?”

“This is my summer for living dangerously, and believe me I have no idea what I’m doing.” Clary looked off down the shoreline to where Mabel was jumping up and down and waving, then twitched in surprise as her phone started to jangle. “Whoops – I think I’m being summoned. See you when we get closer to dusk?”

“Yep, I’m gonna guard the ordnance, I guess, Wendy’s crew probably has runnin’ bets on whether or not they can swipe a few rockets.” Stan tipped his can back to drain it. “Mind haulin’ over my chair while you’re up?”

“Got it.” Clary levered herself upright, dusted off her backside and jogged down to the pier’s end, returning with a folded lawn chair. “Don’t nod off, now.”

“What, with all this thrillin’ readin’ material? Don’t worry about me, kid.” Stan waved her off, set up the chair and settled down with the safety manual. He was out like a light within ten minutes, dozing comfortably in the late-afternoon sun.

He snapped awake twice as the sunlight shaded into deeper and deeper gold. Each time he winged an empty pop can with terrifying accuracy at overcurious kids, sending them scattering. Wendy’s crew, true to form, showed up as the bluff’s shadow crept across the lake.

Stan pinged Thompson in the head with his last empty. He watched them take off and sat up grumbling to look along the shoreline. The sun was nearly down by now, though it’d be forty minutes yet to full dark. Clary and the kids were making their way back, feet splashing at the water’s edge. Right on time.

Unfortunately the control console and Ford hadn’t shown up yet. That was going to be a problem. Stan checked his watch, huffed in frustration and levered himself upright to start setting manual fuses on the closer fireworks racks.

“Kids!” His voice boomed out across the water. “Need you t’check on Poindexter. Clary, you good to set the trigger wires for the far racks?” He waved an arm vaguely at the end of the dock as the three broke into a jog. Dipper dropped off a paper bag that smelled temptingly of grilled stuff on top of the cooler as he hopped onto the worn planks.

“Got it, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel tapped at her phone as the other two split up. Clary threaded her way between milk crates down to the far end and back again to pay out lengths of trigger wire a few at a time. Dipper rummaged up a roll of masking tape, a marker and Stan’s creased layout sketch, and started labeling wires as he tacked them to the dock.

“Five minutes! Says he found a short!” Mabel ran to help Stan substitute lengths of extra fuse for wires on the closest few racks, her quick fingers making short work of masking-tape splices. “I don’t know why we didn’t just stick to the old fuses. Those worked great last year!”

“Because we nearly burned down the Shack last year.” Dipper accepted the last couple of wires from Clary and tagged them neatly.

“Don’t sweat it, kids, you think I didn’t bring backups?” Stan fished out a battered matchbook, dropped it into his breast pocket for easy access and reached for the paper bag. “Eat up, gremlins, it’s almost showtime.”

Ford finally screeched in as they were all finishing off the last few bites of hot dog. He ran full-tilt up to the dock, gasping out vague apologies about losing track of time. The control console hit the top of the camp table with a thud. Between Ford and Dipper the numbered wires were clipped into the rig at terrifying speed, Mabel angling a gooseneck lamp to illuminate the tags in the near-dark.

“We’re missing two banks – Stanley.” Ford glared as he finished counting wires, and Stan shrugged.

“Didn’t know when you’d be back, set those up with quickfuse. We’ll be fine.” He fished a couple of punks out of the toolbox of backup gear, checked his watch, then looked downshore. “I’m gonna give ‘em fifteen more minutes of desperate anticipation. Then we’ll light ‘em up.”

Clary rocked on her heels in impatience, squinting down along the lake’s edge to the scatter of lights and silhouetted townsfolk at the main beach. Stan leaned over to murmur in her ear. “Your stuff’s all set up on one of the racks we just did fuses for, so I’ll have you touch those off. This’s what we’re usin’….”

He explained the slow-burning punk, basically an incense stick that’d hold just enough of an ember to do the job, and pressed his spare into her palm. “We’ll get that goin’ in a minute. Don’t set anythin’ on fire unless you mean to. Ready?”

Light was scarce, all the color washed out of her profile, but her eyes shone. “Ready.”

“Check the time and cue it up please, Mabel,” Ford said, a little too cheerful as he and Dipper settled in behind the control console with its dozens of little labeled switches.

Mabel tapped a couple of phone buttons and a low, mournful orchestral score started up, tinny through the tiny speakers. The opening bars echoed faintly over the lake from the speakers set up at Soos’ end.

Clary leaned over to peer at Mabel’s phone, brows rising as a baritone voice kicked in. “Tulen Synty? This is Finnish.”

“It’s ‘The Origin of Fire’. Eight and a half minutes. Perfect!” Ford flipped the first couple of switches and a few popping rockets went up from the far end of the dock. Distant whoops of approval drifted across the lake.

Stan tugged out the matches and got both his and Clary’s punks going. “He wanted to choreograph it, the racket will drown most of it out anyhow, and it’s too old for anyone to go after us for royalties. Works for me.”

The display built up slowly, Ford singing absently under his breath as he triggered one batch of mortars after another. It took two minutes of strings and woodwinds for things to get really interesting. Dipper, Mabel and Clary all tilted their heads back to watch while Stan snagged a lamp and angled it at the manual fuses.

At five minutes the men’s choir on the track welled up full-throated. Ford kicked off the first few of the big rockets with precise flicks of fingertips. Half lit from below and chuckling to himself, he looked just a bit unhinged. Might as well get it out of his system.

“Aight – you’re up, Clary, get over here.” She jolted with surprise from the piling she’d been leaning against with Mabel, watching the explosions. “We’re mixin’ in your batch, you get to light these. C’mon, nothin’s gonna bite.” Stan nudged her into place at the right spot. “Right here, just start from the end of this row, there ya go.”

Clary lit four in succession, her grin incandescent in the reflected light of the down-angled lamp. “Good?”

“Good, now step back, kid!” The fuses were hissing fiercely and he half-turned to shield her as the sparks began to fly and the rockets went up, one-two-three-four, screech-flash-bang, chrysanthemum bursts of fractured light reflected in the cool black mirror of the lake. The squeal of delight she produced was nearly as high-pitched as Mabel’s. It was like teenage-girl stereo for a few seconds and Stan laughed, pointing down the line. “Nice! Next batch, go get ‘em!”

They settled into a comfortable rhythm with the last half of the shells. Ford flicked switches with a conductor’s grandiose concentration to fire off his carefully coordinated and ever-escalating barrage. Dipper scrambled up to stand on the cooler, swapping off between three different cameras to get both digital and film exposures.

Stan knelt with the spare punk as the orchestral track soared to its conclusion. With Clary’s help he set off an impressive, noisy and entirely random volley of the leftover rockets to wrap it up.

Once the echoes faded, they all settled back to listen to distant, ragged cheers from the shoreline.

All in all it was definitely one of his better shows.

Stan straightened, hands to hips as he flexed and grunted and felt something shift between his shoulderblades. All that craning to squint up at the sky took it out of a man. “Dipper, Mabel, I’ve got a last batch for you guys to light up, c’mon over. Saved some of the little ones.”

“Little ones?” Mabel was all indignation as Stan dragged over the last couple of racks. Ford unclipped wires by the fistful from the back of his console and jogged off along the dock with a flashlight to check for duds, humming in contentment.

“So maybe I’m a little more wrapped up in safety concerns than I used t’be. Maybe.” Stan made sure Ford’s line of sight was otherwise occupied, then held up a fat, foil-printed skyrocket and waggled it with a wink at Mabel and Dipper. “Let’s fire up this last handful.”

Clary spooled up trigger wire and watched in amusement as Stan handed off the punks and made sure both Mabel and Dipper got to fire off the remainder of the rockets. The two largest he held until last. Those went up with a rising screech and a deep boom, crackling showers of blue and purple sparks cascading down to sputter out before hitting the water.

Both the kids whooped in delight. Ford was startled enough to deliver a brief, stern lecture on safety protocol which Stan waved off. They’d all blown up bigger things than this and seriously Ford had no room to talk.

It was just about midnight when they finished loading the control setup into the El Diablo. The empty racks they left for pickup in the morning, given that everyone was all but swaying on their feet. The five of them draggled up to the car with the last couple of chairs and the cooler.

Clary and the kids packed themselves into the back, chatting sleepily about past Fourths and the best fireworks they’d ever seen. The conversation petered out as Dipper, then Mabel nodded off. Clary turned her tired gaze up to the front seat. “Very impressive, fellas. Never thought I’d get to participate in one of these personally.”

Despite the afternoon nap, Stan was pretty wiped out himself. Ford was still irritatingly alert and chirped up. “Where did you pick up on Sebelius, Clary? I didn’t know you were a fan of the classics.”

Clary settled a careful arm around Mabel, who’d tipped into her side. “I got stranded in Helsinki by a weather reroute last year. There wasn’t much to do at that hour so I just wandered and read everything I could find. Tulen Synty came up in something about the Kalevala.”

“Finland! We have that on the list for next year, perhaps Saimaa if the boat’s up to it. Were you out there for business or pleasure?”

Worn out as he was, Stan picked up on her momentary hesitation. “Some of both, I guess. I have family in Switzerland and I expect to be working in Zurich for a while come fall.”

“That the niece and nephew?” Stan nudged. “And your sister?”

Her eyes tracked to his in the mirror. “That’s the crew. I’ve got a mess of cousins in Alabama, but I can’t say the South ever really agreed with me.”

“Definitely didn’t agree with me. Pretty sure I’m still banned in everythin’ but Mississippi, and that’s because it was never worth my time to get into trouble in Mississippi.” That didn’t quite get a laugh, but he preferred the glimmer of her smile to that look of exhaustion.

Shame Switzerland’s land-locked, he thought absently, and kept her busy with some of the less embarrassing stories about his travels in Dixie until they made it home to the Shack.

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She looks guilty, then defiant. “Are you going to help me fire these off or what?”

No way, she’s a potential liability.

Maybe she can help out with concessions.

Hell yes, let’s blow stuff up!

#Gravity Falls #gfdatingsim #DDtMMW #Swooning Over Stans #Stanley Pines #oclicious #fanfic

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alynnl · 5 years

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FF VI Rambling Notes 11/?

I did some more questing in FF VI for the general sense of the word. After getting help from the lovely @fast-moon and @grimoire-of-geekery I was able to build up my characters’ strength so I could take on the next few dungeons and snatch a few more treasures!

Now that Locke has joined our team, the locked-up Narshe is an open book. I opened up the weapon shop, where I received the Ragnorak magicite, which allows you to learn Ultima! I also did some more general exploring, although there wasn’t much to find.

It was kind of lonely wandering Narshe and seeing only one NPC still alive. He refuses to leave because it’s his home even though everyone else is gone.

The music that plays doesn’t help either. It’s very eerie and has such a contrast to the original music, which is more calming to me.

I had Mog and his Moogle charm on the whole time so I wouldn’t have to deal with the monsters. I just wasn’t feeling up to it. I went back to Umaro’s cave. And after some exploration, I found the Terrato magicite. A certain sasquatch wasn’t happy with me for taking his shiny, but luckily I had morphed Terra and Fire 3 in my arsenal. He went down fast.

The next dungeon that was on the “list of things to tackle” was Cyan’s dreamscape in Doma Castle, but before I did that, I took a couple of detours.

First I went to Duncan’s house. I’m not sure how he survived his encounter with Vargas, but maybe he faked his own death and still had to escape the end of the world. He has a cutscene with Sabin where he teaches our brawler Prince his final Blitz technique: Bum Rush. It’s the most powerful single-target Blitz in the game. The combination is long, but worth it.

I liked seeing that glimpse of Sabin with his teacher too, they have such an amusing interaction that is part respect, and part good humor.

Out of curiosity I went back inside Duncan’s house just to see if he had any items laying around. He did not, but I decided to talk to him.

... Apparently the end of the world has made him ill as well. It makes me thin of what happened to Cid! ;-; But maybe since we go on to smash Kefka, he’ll be alright after all when the world heals itself.

The next detour I took was to another solitary house. The crazy guy who wants you to repair everything is actually Gau’s father, as has been heavily hinted from the beginning of our monster fighter’s arc in the game. A lot more of Gau’s backstory is discussed, in how his mother died in childbirth and Gau was essentially raised by the monsters and animals of the Veldt.

As much as he tried to dress up and look normal, the old man didn’t accept that Gau was his son. It made Sabin quite angry (and honestly it’d make me angry too!) but Gau was simply happy that his father was alive, even if he didn’t want him inside the house. ;-; He’s so forgiving.

Gau is content to follow the rest of the group wherever they need to go after that. And honestly, good for him! He has his real father Sabin around and Grandpa Cyan. =D

Speaking of Cyan, he’s the star of the next show.

There were rumors flying around by many townies that there were ghosts in Doma Castle so I decided to check it out. What you have to do is have Cyan in your party along with whoever else you want to bring. To be fully prepared, have White Cape and Amulet relics equipped, so that you can protect against the annoying Imp and Bio status effects.

If you go to sleep in Doma Castle, the three Dream Stooges (what a cheesy name) take Cyan’s soul away and you have to chase them!

Your party gets randomly split up, so make sure you have characters that can fight on their own until you can get the other two back.

In my file, personally, I brought Gau, Shadow and Sabin (because of biases that formed back in Sabin’s long journey back in World of Balance, they make a wonderful team!) - and I was in control of Gau first.

Gau saved Shadow, and then they both saved Sabin, and then it was boss time.

Bum Rush, Ninja Star and Gau’s Stray Cat were all huge assets against them.

After taking down the stooges we’re lead though a sort of “flashback” scenery where the color is gray scale, or rather, yellow scale.

Cyan’s family pleads us to save him, because he’s carried the guilt and shame of losing his entire country inside him. I’ve seen enough anime and games with “mind” or “soul” journeys to know where this is going, so I press on! For a while my group wears Magitek suits, and then we fight against Wrexsoul.

Wrexsoul is a phantom who haunts battlefields, particularly ones where there were a lot of casualties. There is actually a reason for him to be here, they don’t just throw a ghost in there for the sake of having one. I was glad to catch this detail.

As a boss he is the worst and I could not beat him by conventional means, so I used the cheap trick of Vanish -> X-Zone. I honestly don’t like winning that way, because I want to be able to say I won without cheap tricks...

But either way, the victory is won, and Cyan’s family speaks to him, telling him to forgive himself and stop carrying this burden of grief. He accepts that they live on within his heart, and as a reward, we get his final sword technique. Also, if you go up to the throne room in Doma Castle, you get the Alexander magicite on the throne. It’s the only one I know of that teaches you Pearl/Holy which is very effective later on.

With that plot neatly wrapped up like a little box, I headed to Triangle Island, where I got the special dungeon for being all gobbled up by the Zone Eater!

This dungeon is a lot of things but “annoying” is on the top of the list. I hate those guys who push you off the edge! I went around in so many circles before I was finally able to get all the treasures. At least they were worth the trouble though since they were quite rare. The “falling ceiling” is by far the worst feature and it took me a few tries to get through.

Here I found our last party member, Gogo, who is a Mime. They can literally mimic every move a party member makes. I find it strange that they seemed quite content to be in the belly of a monster but...? Whatever floats your boat?

I tried the Fanatics’ Tower again. Still no dice. I guess I’ll have to do some more magic and level grinding before I’m actually ready for that place. It’s such a shame too, because it was the boss at the end who got me! Vanish > X-Zone doesn’t even work on it, and I’d fought so hard and had so many close calls!

...Oh well, maybe next time.

For now, I will cruise around and see which other magicite I can acquire. I think I might poke around in that Ancient Castle that you can dive into with Figaro Castle’s submerge mode. There is also Ebot’s Rock, which is a dungeon centered around Strago and his monster-battling days. I still have a few options, I suppose!

Til then, see you around, followers!

#FF VI #Final Fantasy VI #Lynn Plays Video Games #Retro Gaming #90s Games #Umaro joins #Gogo joins #Cyan's Dreamscape #Narshe the Ghost Town #World of Ruin arc #Sidequests #Getting swallowed by monsters for fun and profit #My distaste for Vanish - X-Zone #It feels... dishonorable #And wrong

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