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purplesurveys · 3 years

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Who are you most nervous about introducing potential significant others to? Ooooh moving forward, probably Angela hahahaha I have no idea how I’d break it to her if ever I do start seeing somebody again. She’s well aware of all the shit that I let slide so she might get intense with the scrutineering.

What is the most exciting thing about your life right now? Just the fact that I feel on top of the world these days. My days of being depressed and picking at my insecurities seem to be far behind me and the change has looked to be apparent coming from friends who’ve told me I seem happier, louder these days.

What was the most important non-academic thing you learned in high school? To not be scared to fight harder for the things you believe in or what make up your identity, coming from having to hide a same-sex relationship during that period. That feeling of being constricted and having to hide to stay on some conservative seniors’ good graces really pissed me off so high school was really crucial in letting me discover just how much I’d be willing to fight and test the waters to be able to live as me.

Have you ever had a job that deeply affected your personal life? How so and do you still work there? Hmm no, not really. If anything my job is one of the things that helped make me a lot livelier and happier.

Do you have a “one who got away”? It felt that way at the start when my view was still skewed, but it didn’t take long until I realized she was not a loss at all.

If you were in a superhero movie, would you be the hero or the villain? Hero.

If you found a mouse in your house, would you be frightened? Mice or rats are the literal worst fucking thing I could see in my house. I definitely see myself making a big deal out of it lmao, especially rats.

Have you ever tried to perform magic tricks? Nobody ever taught me, so no.

Can you do more with a yo-yo than just "go up and down"? Nah, which kinda makes me feel ashamed because considering it was a Filipino who invented the modern yo-yo, I feel like it should be my responsibility to know a few tricks LOL.

What is one form of technology that you wouldn't be able to live without? Instant messenger.

Did you get an allowance, growing up? Why or why not? Starting high school. Before that I was living in our family’s duplex, so my grandma could make packed meals for all of us – not to mention the fact that my parents were also still on their way to establishing themselves at their respective workplaces so we weren’t all that well-off yet.

When we moved into our own place, we started with my mom making our meals but eventually it just proved to be time-consuming and a lot of work considering she also had a job to go to. With that and the fact that both my parents at that point already got a couple of promotions, we switched to allowance.

Would you rather go to a water park or an amusement park? Why? Amusement parks though I would only probably head to the safer rides and food stalls with all the deep-fried offerings haha. I cannot handle more intense rides. On the other hand, water parks have always sounded nasty to me.

What is one instrument you wouldn't mind learning how to play? Piano.

What's the longest amount of time you've had to wait in line for something? The stupid LTO, because you can never count on government agencies to be efficient. Technically my whole time in there took a couple of stages, but all in all I spent eight hours there.

What is something that you would like to learn more about? Korean. I just graduated from my Basic Korean 1 class but I already have plans to enroll in the following course, since I seemed to do well and I want to keep the momentum going.

What is something that one of your family member collects? Mom has a large collection of chef-themed figurines and other sorts of trinkets like a chef timer, shot glasses, etc - but mostly the figurines - that she has displayed in a glass case. I should keep that in mind for when I start Christmas shopping, actually...she hasn’t updated that collection in a long time. Thanks for the idea!

Have you ever moved to a new school before? If so, how did it feel? No, not in the middle of the same period since I went to the same school from kinder to high school for 14 years. I only “moved” when I started college. Like I’ve said in previous surveys, it felt freeing to finally not under be the hands of an environment ran by...well, Catholics. It was a culture shock to see rallies everywhere, to find out I could wear short shorts or even go to school naked if I wanted to, and to see boys in my class (I went to an all-girls), but it was all the good kind of shock.

Have you ever legitimately forgotten to do homework? Always, because I never wrote them down.

Do you enjoy autumn leaves or spring flowers more? Why? I experience neither season.

Depending on where you live, why might a day of school get canceled? Typhoon.

If you could meet any fictional character from a book, who would it be? Melanie Hamilton from Gone with the World.

What are some common places that people tour when they come to your city? I rarely see foreigners here since my area isn’t particularly known for tourism; most go to the island provinces like Cebu, Aklan, Palawan, etc. If I had to recommend spots here, I’d tell them to go for Pinto and maybe the rooftop bars that offer a view of Manila’s skyline.

What's one food that you did not enjoy as a child, but do as an adult? Chicken curry, which I used to dread.

Would you rather have a mermaid tail, a fairy's wings or a unicorn's horn? I guess the wings just because I feel like it’s the only practical one.

What is an animal that you'd like to have as a pet but it's not allowed? I don’t think that way about animals I can’t keep as pets anyway.

What are some things that you do to make the world a better place? I always clean up at restaurants (my mom doesn’t understand why I do it because “the servers are here for a reason, Robyn”) but I always see the relief on their faces when they see I’ve stacked up the plates and cups so I don’t see a reason to stop doing it. I keep the door open for people who happen to enter/exit a building the same time as me, share dog adoption posts, don’t make a fuss about or towards a shop staff who messes up...things like that. I hope it’s able to help, even if just in a small way.

Has the last person you had sex with ever had sex with someone besides you? I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has already.

What’s your favorite store at your mall? We have several malls within the vicinity but I like frequenting NCAT.

Have you ever done a workout DVD? No but my mom is fond of those.

Who usually takes out the trash in your family? Either of my parents.

What song are you currently obsessed with? My Universe is soooooo good. It’s Coldplay’s classic sound but they somehow managed to perfectly blend in BTS’ style as well, so I love how it turned out.

When you go fishing, do you make someone else get the fish off the hook? I've never gone fishing.

Do you take any prescription meds? Nope.

What happens if you don’t take them? Who was the last person you dreamt about? My dad.

Do you prefer your tea sweetened or unsweetened? Sweetened, though I don’t usually actively look for iced tea. I’d have it if it was served, but I don’t typically order it for myself.

How often do you honk your horn? As long as I am annoyed, which gives my mom a mini heart attack every time because she insists I just let people have their way to avoid getting into fights. Sometimes when she’s driving and someone’s being stupid on the road I lurch forward to do the honking for her and it pisses her off soooooooooo much but it also gets the job done so *shrug*

Do you have any children? If so, names and ages? I don’t.

Have your parents ever witnessed you doing something inappropriate? What? TMI but I almost got caught doing the m-word once but my reflexes were at lightning speed that day so when my door opened I was able to fix myself up and appear as though nothing was happening lol. My mom also saw a hickey on me once but I was able to veer the conversation away when she started inquiring.

Did you get babysat a lot as a kid? No, I did the babysitting.

If you were the principal of a school, what would you do differently? Actually deal with teachers who mistreat or make issues towards their students. I had several teachers I know didn’t like me but I could never do anything about it because there was no way in hell the school was going to take my side.

Are you doing anything fun tomorrow? Continued from yesterday. If I took this question yesterday to refer to today I would’ve answered yes because we actually have a really fun PR stunt scheduled for execution today, wherein we get to sponsor someone’s whole wedding from food to flowers to the host and fillm crew :D :D But tomorrow is just Monday so the real answer to this is no.

What is something you'd like to receive as a housewarming gift? I dunno the usual housewarming gifts, but I would appreciate anything practical, or anything that you’ll need at the least expected times, like batteries or even like Sticky Tack.

How old were you when you first experienced the effects of puberty? Oooh I was an early bird – I was 9 when I could first tell my first period was on its way; it came a month after I turned 10.

What is your least favorite holiday, and why? I don’t dislike any holiday because they all mean a day off work lol.

What were some outdoor games you played as a child? We usually played piko (hopscotch), our local version of freeze tag that we dubbed “Ice ice water” for whatever reason, and a garter game that we call 10-20. Dodgeball was a favorite during recess and lunch, too.

Did you accompany your parents on "Take Your Child to Work" Day? That’s not observed here, but my mom did use to take me and my siblings to her first workplace. Are cemeteries peaceful to you, or do they freak you out? They’re actually more interesting to me than anything else. I like learning about the different lives of many different people, even if I only technically know them by their birthday and date of death. Sometimes the inscriptions would be more detailed and tell more about their life, sometimes I’d come across babies who only lived a few days...and it’s just interesting to have those glimpses into life.

Which ancient civilization would you be interested in learning more about? Filipino, because Western colonization destroyed proof of most of it.

Do you have better long-term memory or short-term memory? Long.

What was the last situation that made you cry? Describe. I cried this morning. Nothing bad or heavy, I just found myself thinking again about my mental state last year.

Which forest animal would you be most afraid to encounter? Anything that wouldn’t hesitate to tear my limbs apart.

Do you believe in anything supernatural? (ie: spirits, etc) No.

Has anyone close to you ever gone to war? No. The closest link I have to the military, other than my dead great-grandfather, is Angela’s uncle who’s like a general or like a colonel or something, idk titles.

Have you ever experienced altitude sickness? Yeah, occasionally. Pressure in the ear is a bigger nuisance to me, though.

Is there anything, any event, you wish you could remember more clearly? The last time I saw my grandfather. My only clear memory of him that day was stepping out of the house to leave (my mom and I were visiting) and him sending me off with the message to always be kind and good. If I had known I would never see him again, I never would’ve left.

Have you ever rubbed anyone’s feet? Hmm no, not that I can recall.

If you had to get advice from someone of the opposite sex, who would you go to? I’d go to Hans for certain advice, but not for every single situation. He’s the only person that comes to mind.

What was the last new food/drink that you tried? So last Wednesday I finally got to try this Instagram-based doughnut shop that I’ve been eyeing since August and it turned out to be even MUCH BETTER THAN EXPECTEDDDDDD. Like yeah their photos were always mouthwatering but I didn’t expect it to taste as good as it looks, since most pretty food I’ve encountered usually end up just tasting meh. Anywho, I got two orders of their sampler box and they served me their specialty bacon doughnut, signature brown butter, and a bunch of their chocolate and peanut butter variants and I loved every single fucking thing.

Have you had a good day today or was yesterday better? Oh it’s hard to tell, it’s only 9:05 AM. Both days might be uneventful, though.

Have you ever played Sudoku? I don’t actually get how to play it hahaha. I feel like I’m too stupid for sudoku.

Do you ever take surveys for money? I tried it last year when applying for jobs was still a bitch for me, but the thing is most of those surveys look for employed participants so there was rarely ever a survey that fit me anyway.

Do you like Barbie or Bratz better? Bratz.

Do you prefer purple or green grapes? I don’t like grapes.

Who was the last person that made you laugh? Idk, probs one of the boys since I was watching videos of them earlier today.

Where does your best friend live? A nearby city.

Who did you last confide in? Angela.

Does your car have an alarm? Sure.

Where was your mom born? Somewhere in Metro Manila.

What can always make you feel better no matter what? My dogs.

What is something you’ll never eat again? Why? I don’t think there is anything. I feel like I’m always bound to retry things and that I would be open to doing so, even fruits. One thing I’m firm about never drinking again, though, is coconut water. Get that SHIT away from me.

What is currently happening that is scaring you? I’m not feeling scared these days.

Have you ever found a stranger’s note somewhere? If so, what did it say? Probably. But nothing sticks out.

#survey #surveys

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ponydoodles · 4 years

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Mod Masterpost 3

Here’s the further-continued mod list, due to the 10 image tumblr limit!

If they don’t have any social media listed, DO NOT ask for them, they’re not there for a reason!

Click on “Keep Reading!” This post will be updated accordingly!

🎉🎊Hey Hey! I’m Mod Fiesta and I’m here to party!🎊🎉

🎊 I go by any pronouns! My default is often They/Them! 🎉 Mixed 50/50 (Puerto Rican/Norwegian), but I was born and raised in the U.S.! 🎊 I’ve been fixated on the MLP series for about half a year now but I’ve been drawing them since I was 11 or 12! I’m in love with older gen designs these days! 🎉 My favorite ships are RariTwi and MoonTrix (Moondancer x Trixie)! My favorite character is Spike and my close runners are Pinkie Pie, Bubbles, Trixie, Rarity, and MoonDancer. I do have a figurine of an older gen pony though! Her name is Twinkle Bloom <3 🎊 Consistent style?? Who’s That?? 🎉 If you thought I was an once of Neurotypical you’re out of your mind/lh 🎊 My other interests include SCP, TF2, Dead By Daylight, Danganronpa, MineCraft, Spelunky, and even more if you wanted me to read through my entire steam library- 🎉The cat’s name is JuJu :]

🎉🎊I’m so excited to see what lies ahead!🎊🎉

Art Tumblr 🎉 Instagram 🎊 ToyHou.se 🎉 <3

Ponydoodles tag

💕 Hey what’s up gamers!

My name is Furbie or Mod Murmurs! I’m so excited to be here! I’m 20 years old and I just got into mlp one year ago! Ever since, my friends on Ponydoodles have made me feel so loved and welcome. I’m excited to see what being a Ponydoodles artist will have in store for me!

Things about me…

🌸 I LOVE STARCATCHER she is my #1 forever. 💕💞💘💞💕 Starcatcher and Skywishes are my favourite ponies. As for G4, I would have to say Zecora. My biggest ship (after me and starcatcher haha jk… unless?) is FlutterTwiCora! I also like Flutterjack and RariTwi.

🌸 I’d love to start an asmr channel someday!

🌸 I collect furbies! I have 10 at the moment, the loves of my life!

🌸 I love dating sims and hope to one day make my own

🌸 Other interests include : camping, writing music, anime, video games, collecting fairy stuff and Star Wars!

Thank you! I’m happy to be one of your new mods 💖

Art blog 🌸 Regular Blog 🌸 Twitter 🌸 Ponydoodles Tag

💜 hello!! my name’s lily and i am so so so stoked to be on this blog and draw for you guys!!!!! Q_Q

💜 twilight & rainbow are my favorite characters and i ship them a whole lot<3

💜 i have adhd !! i like infodumping :]

💜 aside from loving mlp, i am a big ol philip j. fry kinnie and i love ninjago & tmnt!!

💜 i hope you’re doing okay!! get some sleep if you need it and remember that You Are Valid!!!!

pony blog | main | pdoods tag!

Helloo!! I’m mod warm!! And I hope you’re having a good day! 🌞 My favorite mlp characters are pinkie pie, skystar, and vinyl scratch! (tho i have so many i hold dear..) 🌞 ive been drawin for a heck of a long time but have mainly been drawing ponies since last summer hehe 🌞 my pronouns are they / them or warm / warms : ] i love all good warm vibes in can get in case u couldn’t tell 💜 🌞 my art can be found at @ transgirlvelma c : I’m so excited to be a part of this!! cant wait to fill out y’alls requests!

Ponydoodles tag

🦇 Ciao ciao! I’m Mod KO! I use He/They and up above is my sona Toonz (also known as Disaster Squish) and uses He/It!

💕 I’m the biggest cartoon nerd ever! Cartoons just in general are my biggest special interest along side maybe bats! Currently I’m extremely hyperfixated on Ok KO! Let’s Be Heroes! but honestly I don’t think there’s a cartoon out there that I don’t love!!

🌸 I love love LOVE gen 3 of MLP, it’s prob my favorite gen. Maybe cause I grew up with it haha! My favorite characters are Wisteria, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Chrysalis, Sunset Shimmer, Minty, and gosh just a ton more! I can’t help it there’s just so many good characters!! Though ship wise my faves are def Sunset & SciTwi and Wisteria & Kimono haha but gosh I love a ton of ships too!

You can find my main tumblr @hext00ns !!

Before you leave, let’s play a game! Pick a cup:

🥤 🥤 🥤 🥤 🥤

Ponydoodles tag

YO how is it GOING gamers, I’m Mod Razz!! I go by Mech or Flick, I am ✨ Very Queer ✨ and ✨ ADHD ✨

🐞 I’ve been into MLP since my single digit years, and I’ve been drawing for about 6 years! I’m only thoroughly familiar with G4, but I intend to watch older gens eventually >:]

🐞 My favorite character overall is Chrysalis! My favorite minor character is Vapor Trail, my favorite mane 6 is tied between Applejack and Fluttershy, and my favorite ship is Frazzle Rock x Sapphire Shores! (If you make content of said ship I will sell you my soul)

🐞 I draw in multiple styles, some more complex than others. You may see some inconsistency between my posts, but I hope they make y'all happy regardless!!

🐞 me opossum. me chameleon. me bug. me creature >:]]

* The image above has a white filter over it to reduce saturation, since the original is bright. You can find the unfiltered version here!

* You can also find my sona’s clearer (slightly dated) ref here!

ponydoodles tag

Click for page two! ⬅️

Click for page one! ⬅️

#dont rb

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demigodsanswer · 4 years

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Once Upon a Pointe - Chapter 3

Story Summery:

“Annabeth, you’re with Percy,’ Chiron said. Annabeth. She looked like the figurine in a little girl’s music box had come to life to dance in City Ballet. Percy felt like every opportunity to dance with her was a privilege. Just don’t forget the choreography, Percy thought as he got into the right starting spot for the wedding pas de deux. Don’t forget the choreography, and don’t drop her.”

Percy, a soloist with the ballet company, and he is offered one chance to dance with Annabeth, one of their star principals. If he nails the choreography, he might just earn a chance to dance with her. And, if he’s really lucky, he might get a date out of it as well.

Chapter Title: Make it Blue

Read on AO3

Start from the beginning

When Percy stepped into his favorite coffee shop before rehearsal, he spotted a familiar shade of blonde hair ordering in front of him. Even with her hair down under a winter hat he was sure it was her (her black dance bag with AEC monogramed on the side also helped him identify her). He stepped up to the counter to stand next to her, as he handed the barista his card.

“Hers is on me,” he said, before adding his own coffee order on.

“Oh no –“ she tried to protest, her cheeks pink from the cold weather.

“I insist,” Percy said, nodding to the cashier to run his card.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Annabeth said as they grabbed their coffees to head towards the studio.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Besides, what kind of Prince Charming would I be if I didn’t buy you coffee?”

Annabeth laughed and sipped her drink. “I’ve never met a dancer so dedicated to method acting,”

To prove his point, Percy jogged up the stairs to the door of the studio and pulled it open for her before she could make it halfway up the stair. “After you, ma’am,” he said, going into a dramatic deep bow.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, curtseying just a little as the walked in.

~*~*~*~

Percy’s finger hovered over the ‘send’ button, trying to decide if sending Annabeth a YouTube video on why the Barbie Sawn Lake movie is the best movie of all time was a good idea. He didn’t even know if she had liked the Barbie movies as a kid.

If he had to guess, she was either the girl who had them all in a pristine Dream House, or the kid who cut their hair and drew on their faces. Either way, though, the video could work. And it wasn’t like he wanted to talk to her about Barbie, he just wanted to talk to her outside of the studio.

He had no idea where he stood with her. He was pretty sure they were becoming friends, or at least work friends. But their work required them to touch all the time, look lovingly into each other’s eyes, and kiss, which really blurred the lines between work-friend, just a friend, and friends who are flirting.

He had been following Beckendorf’s advice and not actively perusing anything with her. Buying her coffee had been a friendly one-time gesture and sending her a funny YouTube video was the kind of harmless thing that friends would do.

And they were friends, at least work friends. She smiled easily around him and laughed at his dumb jokes. She certainly did more than tolerate him. Annabeth didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who would fake being nice to someone she didn’t like; in fact, he had anecdotal proof that she wasn’t like that.

Still, they had never texted each other before, other than to confirm a rehearsal or check choreography.

His resolve crumbled, and he deleted the text.

~*~*~*~

Percy was sore all over. He’d stopped being about to feel his legs somewhere around hour six, but they were coming to the end of hour eight now.

It was a good kind of sore. A kind of sore he only felt after a good, intense day of dancing. It was still the kind of sore that made him want to go home and take an ice bath and fall asleep listening to anything other than classical music. But a good sore.

When the music ended, he and Annabeth parted, both breathing heavily.

“Great job you guys,” Chiron said. Annabeth smiled wide at Percy. “Go home and get some rest. We still have some work to do before we move to dress rehearsals,”

Dress rehearsals. They moved to the theater in a week, which meant the show went up in two weeks. Percy’s heart began to race as he realized how little time there was left to go.

Before Percy got the chance to tell Annabeth how great she had done that day, Piper ran up between the two of them, throwing one arm over either of their shoulders.

“You guys looked so good up there!” She said. “Have you gotten to try on your costumes yet? Because I tried mine on yesterday and it is gawdy, and borderline camp, and everything I’d want in a fairy,"

Annabeth snuck her way out from under Piper’s arm. “I tried on my act one costume yesterday. It’s the big pink tutu with roses on it. I look like a storybook ballerina,”

As opposed to all the other days, Percy thought, when you’re just a regular beautiful woman in a tutu.

~*~*~*~

Percy took the risk of looking creepy as hell and waited for Annabeth to change before heading home. It had gotten dark hours ago, and he didn’t want her to walk to the subway alone if she didn’t have to.

“Hey,” she said when she saw him waiting, “what’s up?”

“It’s, uh, pretty dark out, and I wanted to see if you’d like me to walk you to the subway?” His face felt hot.

Annabeth just smiled and nodded. “Sure. I take the 1 train,”

“No shit, so do I,” Percy said as they walked out the door and into the cold New York City street. That was kind of a dumb thing to say, he realized. The closest subway station only ran the 1 and the 2. It wasn’t completely surprising that she’d take that train. But maybe she found absolute idiocy charming. He could hope so, at least. “Uptown or downtown?”

“Way down,” Annabeth said. “West fourth. You?”

He shrugged and smiled, “Uptown, west one-hundred and fourth,” he said. “How’d you end up so far downtown?”

Annabeth shrugged. “I liked the area, and … well Luke really wanted to get out of midtown,” she smiled. “I hope Portland is far enough for him,” she said that softly, like she was pretending that Percy wasn’t supposed to hear her.

“So, you’re there alone now?” He hoped that didn’t sound creepy.

“Yup. It’s actually been pretty nice,” she paused before adding, “besides if I get lonely, I can just put on a podcast and pretend there are other people around,”

Percy began to smile as an idea formed in his head. “Well, if you want someone to hang out with or if you want a nice home cooked meal, you can come over to my place on Sunday. My mom and I are excellent chefs.” He bragged humbly, hoping she’d agree to the invite.

“You live with you mom?” Annabeth asked.

Percy blushed, “Yeah, but not in like a weird Greek tragedy way or a sad way,” he clarified. “My mom and stepdad way undercharge for rent, and they are saving the rent money I give them to help save for my little sister’s college, and since my mom is one hell of a cook, … it works out for everyone,” Percy said a little too quickly. “Plus, my mom makes the best chocolate chip cookies in the entire world, so you need to come just for those.”

“I don’t think you want me eating too many cookies before we have to do all of these lifts,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” Percy promised, “all the food my mom makes has no calories.”

Annabeth laughed as they made their way down the subway stairs. “Well, how could I pass up a good meal with no calories?” She turned to face him. “That would be great though. I can’t cook for shit. Well, I mean, I could cook if I wanted to, I’m not an idiot. I just hate doing it.”

Percy’s heart did little flips in his chest as they pushed through the turnstiles, about to go in opposite directions. Annabeth was coming over for dinner, and he felt like he was walking on air.

Percy was hoping for a slow goodbye where he promised to text her, and then wished her goodnight. But as soon as they were through the gate, the downtown 1 train pulled in.

“Shit!” Annabeth yelled, taking off towards the stairs. “See you tomorrow!” she yelled, already out of sight.

See you tomorrow, Percy though, smiling, as he made his way down the stairs to the uptown side.

~*~*~*~

“So for your date tonight –“ his mom started.

“It’s not a date,” Percy protested. “It’s just Annabeth.”

“She’s coming all the way from downtown to meet you.”

“Well, yeah.”

“She’s staying for dinner.”

“Yeah.”

“You two are dancing together.”

“Mom!”

She held up her hands in surrender, before she asked him to pass him some spices.

“Seriously, though,” he said, “it’s not a date. If I had asked her out, our first date wouldn’t be in our apartment with you, Paul, and Stella around.” He stood at the counter, his back to her as he chopped the vegetables. “Besides, I don’t think she wants to be dating.”

“Well, I’ll still try not to embarrass you just in case,” she said.

“You know, it’d be great if you tried not to embarrass me at all ever,” he said.

She walked over and ruffled his hair. “I gave birth to you; I can embarrass you when and how I want. That’s the arrangement.”

“To be clear,” Percy said, “I did not ask to be born.”

~*~*~*~

Annabeth arrived about half an hour before dinner was ready. Percy buzzed her into the building, and then opened the door to his apartment for her.

“Hi,” she said, looking a little frazzled from the cold. She handed him a bottle of wine in a paper bag. “I brought a bottle of wine,” she said quickly, “because I didn’t know what else to bring, but, I don’t know about you, I don’t drink this close to shows, so I’m sorry if this is totally useless.”

Percy smiled at her nervousness and let her inside. “It’s fine. My parents will enjoy it, or we can save it until after the run of the show.” That seemed to relax her a bit. She slipped off her jacket and hat, which Percy quickly took from her, hanging them on the hook near the door. She was wearing a simple cream-colored sweater and a pair of jeans with her long blonde hair down around her shoulders. It was a simple look, but Percy so rarely saw her in street clothes or with her hair down that he almost forgot why she was in his apartment at all.

“Let me introduce you,” he said, ushering her into the kitchen and living room.

After introductions, which were thankfully free of embarrassment for Percy, the two sat on the couch. Annabeth fiddled with her hands and started straight forward. Percy had seen her dance in front of a crowd of thousands, balanced on two toes, without a single sign of nerves or anxiety, but something about Percy’s small family had made her uneasy.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked.

Annabeth nodded a little too quickly. “I just haven’t met new people or had dinner at someone’s house in, like, a year. And other people’s parents tend not to like me.”

“Don’t worry, I think my mom will like you just fine.” Annabeth sighed and shook her head, not saying anything. “Hey,” Percy took her hands, steadying them, “there’s nothing to worry about,” he assured her. “My mom is probably going to ask you polite questions about where you trained before New York and how you like the company, and all of that. My sister will probably ask you ask the costumes and the hair and the shoes. And my stepdad will probably make a bad pun and pretend to know what any of us are talking about.”

Annabeth smiled and nodded as her shoulders relaxed. Percy pulled his hands away when he realized he was still holding hers, trying not to blush.

~*~*~*~

They shared small talk, talking about company drama and recalling old stories, until Sally called them into the kitchen for dinner.

“Thank you, again, for having me,” Annabeth said as they sat down.

“It’s my pleasure, dear,” Sally told her. “Please, enjoy,” she said, handing her a bowl of food to scoop from.

“So,” Sally started once they were all served, “Annabeth, where are you from?”

Annabeth cleared her throat. “Well, my whole family is from Boston, but I grew up in Virginia, until I moved to New York for the ballet school when I was fourteen. I’ve lived here ever since.”

“And they took you into the company very early, didn’t they?” Sally asked.

Annabeth nodded. “I was sixteen. It was grueling,” she said. “I’m glad that dancers are being taken in later that I was, because it was hard. I still don’t think I was prepared for it, and I have no idea how I got through it.”

“What’s the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you on stage?” Estelle asked. Sally frowned at her, but Annabeth laughed.

“I was dropped once.” Estelle’s eyes went wide, and Sally gasped. Percy laughed, remembering the story she was about to tell.

“When I was twenty,” Annabeth said, “I was Juliet in Romeo and Juliet, and there is a scene at the end where Juliet has taken potion to make it look like she’s dead.” Annabeth explained to Estelle, who was looking at her with an extreme intensity. “And Romeo comes on stage, and he sees me laying on this tombstone, which was just this wooden slab on a platform three steps up. And Romeo has to pick up Juliet’s lifeless body and carry her down the stairs and do a pas de deux. But, of course, I’m dead, so I can’t help the guy. So, he’s just swinging me around like deadweight.” Percy and Paul laughed at this, but Sally kept on looking horrified. Percy wasn’t sure if his mom was still hung up on the fact that Annabeth had been dropped, or if she was uncomfortable with the choreography being described. Estelle, though, just looked fascinated with the story.

“One night, Charles Beckendorf, who’s one of the best partners in the business, is my Romeo, and climbs up the stairs, picks me up, and then, all the sudden, I am falling down the stairs.” Percy heard his mom whisper “oh my god,” as Annabeth continued. “And I have no idea what happened, because I’m dead, so my eyes are closed. Turns out, he had slipped at the top of the stairs, and we had both fallen down onto the stage. Thankfully, neither of us were hurt, but the orchestra was still going, so we had to keep dancing. But I’m still dead. So, he had to lift me, dead weight, off the stage and finish the dance.

“The worst part was that, at that point in the ballet, Romeo and Juliet don’t leave the stage until the show is over. So, for the next twenty minutes, we are both panicking thinking we’re going to get pulled from the ballet for the rest of the run or that we’re going to be fired.

“Curtain falls, ballet is over, we meet Chiron backstage who just nodded and said, ‘I liked it, leave it in.’” Percy laughed at Annabeth’s Chiron impression – a stiff nod, a frown, and a gruff voice offering compliments when you expected nothing but critique.

“Apparently,” Annabeth continued, “from the audience, it had looked planned, as if Romeo was so overcome with grief, he just couldn’t stay standing. Of course, one of the ballet mistresses heard about Chiron’s plan and told him it was too dangerous for me to be dropped down the stairs every night, so we never did end up doing it again.”

“Well,” Paul said, “hopefully Percy won’t drop you like that.”

“No,” Percy said, “this ballet is thankfully free of carrying her down stairs. Although,” he looked at Annabeth, “you are in a death-like sleep again.”

Annabeth smiled. “As long as I never have to be a snowflake again, I’ll take all of the only-mostly-dead roles.”

~*~*~*~

Annabeth opened up after that, charming Sally and Estelle with her dance stories and compliments about Percy’s skills as a partner (which Percy didn’t mind either.) She tried to help Sally clear the table, but Sally refused to let her help, insisting that she and Percy relax in the living room. After a few minutes, she brought in a tray of blue cookies for them.

Annabeth’s eyes went wide when she saw them; she picked a big one off the top and held it in front of her face. “Blue?” she asked.

“It’s an inside joke between my mom and me,” Percy said, picking up a cookie of his own.

Annabeth eyes went wide and she smiled, “Oh! That’s why everything you own is blue!” She said, like she had solved some grand mystery. “Your bag, your foam roller, your water bottle.” Percy smiled and nodded, confirming her conclusions. “And see, I just thought you were super into that ‘blue for boys, pink for girls’ thing.”

Percy laughed, breaking off a piece of his cookie. “No, I think that’s kind of bogus.”

Before Annabeth could respond, Sally poked her head in. “We’re going to be in our room, but it was so nice to meet you Annabeth. Please, feel free to stay as long as you’d like. And take some of the cookies home with you!”

Annabeth waved them goodnight. “Goodnight and thank you again for having me. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime, honey,” Sally said, disappearing around the corner.

“See,” Percy said, “I told you they’d like you.”

Annabeth smiled. “Yeah, must just be my family that doesn’t like me, then.”

She said that nonchalantly like it was a joke, but it caught Percy off guard. “You’re not close with your family?” He asked her.

She shrugged. “No, not really.”

“That must have been hard,” Percy said.

She nodded. “I mean, I should be grateful for them,” she added. “They’ve supported me my entire career and paid for everything, you know? But mostly I think they were glad I found ballet. It kept me out of the house most of the time.” Annabeth laughed sadly as she nibbled on her cookie. “It was funny. There was this one time, right when I was about to turn seventeen and find out if I got my company contract, and I got a text from my step-mom that just said: ‘Your dad got a new job in San Francisco. We’re moving in a week.” She forced a laugh again, but when she saw that Percy didn’t find that funny, she let her guard down. “They’d all known for months, but none of them thought to tell me.” She finished in a voice much sadder than the one she had started with.

Percy rested a hand on her knee, which she took willingly. “I’m so sorry, that’s awful. Can I ask why they didn’t –”

She cut him off. “My mom left me and my dad in the middle of the night when I was a few weeks old, and we never heard from her again. I guess things were fine with just me and my dad for the first few years, but he got remarried when I was three. They started their ‘real’ family, and I was just wrench in the machine.” She shrugged. “But anyway,” she said, forcing herself to perk up, “it all worked out. I mean, I got this amazing dance career and an absolutely awful taste in men,” she joked, “and you didn’t invite me here just to talk about my problems. Tell me about you. We’ve been dancing together for years, and I feel like I barely know you.”

“Can I give you a hug?” Percy asked her.

She was taken aback. “What?”

“Can I give you a hug? You just seem kind of sad.”

Annabeth dropped her plucky attitude and nodded, opening her arms to him. He held her tightly, rubbing her back gently to let her know that he was there.

When she pulled away, there were some tears on her cheeks that she quickly blotted off with a napkin. “Jesus, look at me, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Percy assured her. “And, seriously, if you ever need to talk, I’m here. I would really like to be your friend.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you, that really means a lot to me.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, before Annabeth said: “But, really, tell me about yourself. How did you get started in ballet?”

“Kind of like you did, I guess. I needed something to do after school to get me out of the house and away from my stepdad,” he said. “Not Paul,” he added, “the guy my mom was married to before him.” He ran his hand through his hair and relaxed back on the couch. “I didn’t start dancing until I was ten,” he told her.

Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

He nodded. “I started at the Y, really basic classes because I needed something to do.” He didn’t tell her it was because he’d gotten kicked off the rec basketball team for punching a kid who’d made fun of Tyson, Percy friend and teammate, for having down syndrome. Percy’s reasons for decking the kid didn’t matter to his coach, though, who’d just hung his head, exhausted constantly by Percy’s troublemaking. “Just go home, Percy,” his coach had told him. “Just go home.” When he’d gotten kicked off the team, he had known he’d have to find something else to do after school as soon as he could. He couldn’t stand the idea of spending hours alone with Gabe before his mom got home from the candy shop.

“Why’d you pick dance?” She asked.

“I wanted to play basketball,” he said, “but the season had already started. The only thing I could still sign up for was ballet.” Percy smiled. “It was funny, the week I had my first class was the week before my mom got paid, so I didn’t have ballet shoes yet. I tried to do the barre in my socks, but the instructor saw, and she came back with these girls ballet slippers. They were extras they had. They were too big and for girls, but they were better than nothing. I ended up wearing them for four months. My mom had to sew the canvas where my big toe had popped through.” Annabeth smiled at the detail, but Percy figured she’d never had to wear second-hand shoes.

“Why’d you stick with it?” She asked.

Percy took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It was a control thing, I think,” he said. “I …” he hesitated, but he decided to be honest with her, the way she had been with him. “I was a troubled kid. I have ADHD and dyslexia, so my grades were bad. I got into fights, my stepdad …” he decided to leave those details out. “Well, he’s not around anymore and that’s for the best.” Annabeth nodded, looking at him even as he kept his gaze forward.

“I understand that,” she mused as he continued.

“But when I got to ballet … well, it was this quiet room with piano music, and no one was talking to each other. We all just plie’d in peace, and it was just so nice,” he smiled, “and I felt in control there. I realized that if I put a lot into ballet, I’d get a lot out of it. So, I started to practice every night, and after six months, my teacher told my mom that I had to be in a better program if I wanted to be a better dancer, because she really believed that I could go the distance.”

He paused, smiling at the memory, but his eyes felt a little misty. He took a sip of water to avoid crying in front of her. “It was the first time a teacher had really believed in me,” he said. “She helped me find a school and scholarship money, and … that was all she wrote. I started dancing pretty much every day until I got into the academy at fifteen.” He smiled and looked back at her.

She was listening to him intently and had leaned closer to him. When he sat up straight, she had to readjust so that their bodies didn’t collide. He smiled when he saw that she was still listening to him. “You know, the year I started at the school was the year you got into the company?”

She didn’t answer his question. Instead, she placed her hands on his, the same way he had for her earlier. “You must have worked really hard.” She said.

Percy nodded. “So many people in the school and the company had done all of these summer intensives and had been in youth companies and all of that. And there I was, this ragamuffin kid who got his start as a pre-teen at the YMCA,”

Annabeth smiled uncomfortably. “I was in a youth company,”

Percy forced himself to laugh and assure her that he didn’t hate people who had been in youth companies or had been dancing since they were very young. He knew it wasn’t her fault that she had gotten lucky, he just always hated that sense of what-if: what if he had more money growing up? What if he had gotten started earlier? How much further in his career could he be if he had half the opportunities Annabeth had?

“Besides, you haven’t had it easy either,” he said.

She nodded. “I actually spent the last few months back in Virginia at the youth company. I did some choreography, led some classes, and kept up with my own training. It was nice to get out of the city for a while.”

“I bet,” he said. He wanted to ask her what happened, but he figured she would have already told him, so he dodged it. “I’m lucky, my get-away is a lot closer than yours.”

“Oh yeah? Where do you escape to?”

“Montauk beach, out on Long Island.” He pointed vaguely towards the east.

“You know, I’ve lived in New York for twelve years, and I’ve never been to Long Island.”

Percy’s eyes went wide. “What do you do in the summer? Suffer here? Or do you jet off to Disney World or Hawaii?”

She bumped her shoulder into his. “Please, I don’t have that much money.” She said. “I go …” She paused, and the put her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Oh my god, I don’t even want to tell you. I feel like you’ll stop being my friend forever.”

Percy smiled when she called him her friend. “Nothing you could say could change that. Come on, just tell me.”

She took a deep breath. “I go to Jersey,” she admitted.

Percy groaned and leaned back against the couch. “Oh my god!”

“It’s nice! They have nice beaches, good pizza –“

“Get out of my apartment!” Percy said while laughing and pointing at the door. Annabeth grabbed his hand and pulled it out of its pointing pose.

“It’s nice, I promise!”

“Please!” Percy said. “Long Island might not be the Bahamas, but it’s better than Jersey.”

“Have you ever been to New Jersey?” She asked.

“No,” he admitted, “but that’s by design.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” she said.

“Alright, tell you what,” Percy said. “This summer, I’ll take you to Long Island and you can take me to Jersey,” he couldn’t believe what he was saying, “and we’ll decide which was better.”

Annabeth held out her hand. Percy took it and they shook on it. “Deal.” She said.

~*~*~*~

They stayed up talking and enjoying a few too many cookies but not worrying about it, for two more hours. When Annabeth caught a flash of the time: 10:15p.m. She gasped.

“I had no idea how late it was getting,” she said, standing up. “I should head home and let you get some rest.”

“Do you want me to come with you on the subway?” Percy offered. “It’s getting late and you’ve got a long train ride.”

Annabeth shook her head. “No, thank you though, that’s sweet. I’ll just call an Uber,” she said, taking out her phone.

Percy nodded, picking up the tray of cookies. “Sounds good. I’m sending you home with at least half of these, though, or else my mom will kill me.”

Annabeth smiled. “If I don’t fit into my costume, I’m telling Silena that it’s your fault.”

Percy placed a few cookies in a zip-lock bag and handed it to her. “They have no calories remember,” he said.

She zipped up her coat and forced her hat onto her head. Before she could say goodbye, Percy slipped on his jacket and shoes. “Let me walk you out,” he said.

~*~*~*~

They stood on the curb waiting for her car as snow started to fall. Percy looked up at the sky and smiled, watching the flurries fall in the light of the streetlamps.

“Thank you, again, Percy, for such a great night,” she said.

“Anytime, seriously. My door is always open.” He was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing and how beautiful he thought she was. There were times where he thought his crush on her was maybe just the result of admiration for her dancing. He thought that, maybe if he got to know her, he wouldn’t like her as much outside of the studio. Tonight had disproven that theory.

Her Uber pulled up. “Annabeth?” the driver asked. Annabeth double checked the license plate number before confirming. She turned back to Percy to say a final goodbye.

That would have been the perfect moment to kiss her, as she stood under the snow, looking up at him, the yellow light of the streetlamp bouncing off her blonde hair. Sure, they had kissed before, but rehearsal kisses were different. They didn’t count. This would be an “I like you” kiss, a “let me take you out to dinner” kiss, it could be a wonderful, earth-shattering, life changing kiss.

But that kiss would ruin everything. Instead, he tried to memorize the way her eyes looked, and the way snow stuck to her eyelashes, and the way she waved goodbye to him from the window of her Uber.

#this chapter is 5000 words long oh my god #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #once upon a pointe

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lifewithkasia · 4 years

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Yattaman

Na początku była wola walki. Nonszalanckie uwolnienie telewizora z szafki zamykanej na wielką kłódkę. Sprawne manewry tak, by nikt nie zobaczył co dzieje się z pilotem w dłoni. Regularne próby uciszania pomruków niezadowolenia, a później własnych myśli, gdy pomruki przekształcały się w coraz głośniejszy jazgot. W końcu spektakularna kapitulacja, którą jedynie honor i stanowisko powstrzymały przed teatralnym trzaśnięciem pilotem o ziemię i ucieczką z pola bitwy.

Tak wyglądało, mniej więcej, każde przedpołudnie w mojej grupie przedszkolnej, gdy nadchodziła godzina telewizyjna. W roli przegranego występowała jedna z pań przedszkolanek. W roli zwycięzców my – waleczne średniaki. A bitwa była o… Yattaman.

Ostatni bal karnawałowy w przedszkolu (kliknij i czytaj). Jak widać nie doczekałam się stroju Yattamana...

Na zakończenie każdego odcinka czarne charaktery Drombo pozostawały w negliżu i uciekały na piechotę, hen za horyzont, przed wstydem i zwycięskimi Yattaman. W tym czasie ich niszczycielski robot dogorywał gdzieś w oddali. Przedszkolanki zdegustowane głównymi bohaterami czasem podejmowały próby nawrócenia placówki na edukacyjny charakter i zamiast na Polonię 1, pstrykały na Jedynkę, gdzie rozpoczynało się właśnie „Domowe przedszkole”. Gwiazdy tej sztandarowej produkcji (dziś wzbudzaliby raczej niepokój politycznie poprawnych obywateli), to aktorzy śpiewający piosenki i ćwiczący dykcję z wiecznie przestraszonymi dziećmi. No i jeszcze Hałabała, walczący o grand prix w kategorii „creepy” z Kulfonem. Jedynym wytłumaczeniem akceptacji tej makabrycznej kukiełki był wciąż drzemiący w nas szczątkowy gen homo sovieticusa. Zresztą, kolejnych dowodów na obecność genu nie trzeba daleko szukać. W końcu na początku lat 90. najlepszym momentem dnia dla dzieci w wieku od 3 do 5 lat było… oglądanie japońskiej anime. Z włoskim dubbingiem. Z końca lat 70. Tak czy siak, przedszkolanki edukację musiały przesunąć na popołudnie, zostawić rodzicom i Panu Tik Takowi, pierwszemu oficjalnemu hipsterowi w Polsce, który wtedy wyglądał po prostu jak pierwszy lepszy wujek z wąsem. Dla dzieci z mojego otoczenia w latach 90. nie liczył się żaden inny kanał, tylko Polonia 1. W mojej grupie przedszkolnej liczyła się tylko Yattaman. I jeśli przedszkolanki chciały, we względnym spokoju, dotrwać do końca dnia pracy, musiały to uszanować.

Yattaman. Tak naprawdę nikt nie wiedział o co w tej bajce chodziło, ale to nie było ważne. A może najbardziej nęcąca była w niej… powtarzalność? Kiedy biedne dzieci z Domowego Przedszkola musiały męczyć się nad ćwiczeniem rysunku czy lepieniem figurek z plasteliny, my mogliśmy oddawać się zupełnej hipnozie, odłączającej szare komórki. W moim przypadku spotęgowanej głaskaniem po głowie przez przyjaciółkę K. To była wymarzona wersja leżakowania i przedszkolnego podwieczorku. Jestem pewna, że każdy z moich kolegów i koleżanek do tej pory potrafi zanucić jingiel, który pomijając psychodeliczne rytmy na pograniczu disco-polo i monotonny głos lektora, przebijającego się przez tekst piosenki również śpiewanej po włosku, w tamtych czasach interpretowanego przeze mnie jako japoński, tylko podbijał emocje towarzyszące każdej nowej odsłonie. No właśnie, tylko jakie emocje? Wszyscy od początku wiedzieli jak skończy się kolejny odcinek i kto wygra, zdradzała to już piosenka. Jestem pewna, że nikt z nas nie zagłębiał się również w szczegóły odwiecznej walki między Yattaman, a Drombo. O istnieniu tajemniczego kamienia zwanego Dokuro, który dawno temu roztrzaskał się na kawałki rozrzucone po całej Ziemi i ma moc ujawnienia lokalizacji największego złoża złota na świecie, w przedszkolu nie wiedział zapewne nikt. Ale to nie było ważne. Gdybyśmy mieli wtedy czym handlować, prawdopodobnie otworzylibyśmy mini STS obstawiający zakłady i dający w zastaw wszystko, nawet swój ulubiony worek na kapcie, by tylko wygrać zakład o to, na którym robocie do walki ze złem wyjadą dziś Yattaman. No i ten dreszczyk emocji na końcu każdego odcinka, połączony z próbą totalnej samokontroli, by na głos nie wykrzyczeć: GOLASY!!! To mogłoby oznaczać koniec przygody z Yattaman w godzinach pracy przedszkola, dlatego każdy z nas starał się zatrzymać na rubasznym chichocie.

Jak widać w zerówce Yattaman odszedł w zapomnienie. Z kretesem przegrał z... Zorro.

Sama bajka w pewien sposób rozbudzała jednak wyobraźnię. Symulowanie jazdy na Yattakanie, wisząc na prętach zardzewiałego, przedszkolnego płotu, po którym ręce miały wgłębienia od drutów, resztki odłażącej farby i specyficzny zapach rdzy na skórze. Żmudna nauka tańca zwycięstwa z zaangażowaniem nieobecnym nawet podczas rytmiki, do tego stopnia, że podczas prób niejednokrotnie zarobiło się od partnera lub partnerki łokciem. A przede wszystkim przepychanki słowne kto jest bardziej podobny do Yattaman i przed kolejną zabawą karnawałową już na pewno namówi mamę na uszycie ich stroju, by zdeklasować konkurencję. Nie mówiąc już o tym, że patrząc z dzisiejszej perspektywy na głównego bohatera bajki, jestem z stanie wyciągnąć daleko idące wnioski i powiązać jego wygląd z moim idealnym typem mężczyzny. Tylko te dzwony…

Przedszkolna przygoda z Yattaman w zasadzie była moją jedyną wspólną historią z anime. Tak jak w przypadku Mango TV (kliknij i czytaj), pozostałam wierna pierwszej telewizyjnej miłości, dlatego nigdy nie zainteresowałam się królującymi w młodszych klasach Sailor Moon. Krótki epizod z Super Świnką również mnie nie złamał, a kolejne przeprowadzki i zderzenie się z równieśnikami na Podhalu, którzy nigdy wcześniej nie słyszeli o Yattaman, utwierdziły mnie w przekonaniu o słusznym wyborze bycia ich ambasadorką do dziś.

Yattaman

In the beginning there was a will to fight. Nonchalant release of the TV from the locker with a large padlock. Smooth maneuvers so that nobody can see what is happening with the remote control in the hand. Regular attempts to silence the murmur of discontent, and then own thoughts as the murmur was transforming into an ever louder clamor. In the end, spectacular capitulation, which only honor and position prevented the theatrical pilot slamming into the ground and escaping from the battlefield.

That was, more or less, every morning in my kindergarten group when the TV hour was coming. One of the kindergarten ladies played the loser role. We - the brave kids - were winners. And the battle was about... Yattaman.

Last carnival party in the kindergarten (click and read). As you can see, I didn’t manage to become Yattaman...

At the end of each episode, the villains remained negligee and fled on foot over the horizon from shame and from the victorious Yattaman. At the same time, their destructive robot was dying somewhere in the distance. Preschoolers disgusted with the main characters sometimes made attempts to convert the institution to an educational character and instead of Polonia 1, they picked public TV channel, where the "Home kindergarten" was just beginning. The stars of this flagship production (today they would rather raise the concerns of politically correct citizens) were actors singing songs and practicing diction with eternally frightened children. There was also Hałabała, fighting for the grand prix in the "creepy" category with Kulfon. The only explanation for the acceptance of this macabre puppet was the homo sovieticus gene still dormant in us. Anyway, you don't have to look far for further evidence of the presence of this gene. Finally, at the beginning of the 90s, the best moment of the day for children aged btween 3 to 5 was... watching Japanese anime. With Italian dubbing. From the late 70s. Anyways preschoolers had to leav the education to the afternoon, fror parents and Mr. Tik Tak, the first official hipster in Poland, who at that time looked like every uncle with a mustache. For children from my surroundings in the 90s, no other channel mattered more than Polonia 1. In my preschool group, only Yattaman was important. And if preschoolers wanted to get to the end of the work day in relative peace, they had to respect it.

Yattaman. Nobody really knew what was the story about, but it didn't matter. Or maybe the most alluring was... the repetition? When poor children from the „Home Kindergarten” had to bother with drawing exercises or making plasticine figurines, we could indulge in complete hypnosis, disconnecting gray cells. In my case, intensified by stroking the head by my friend K. It was the dream version of napping and kindergarten afternoon tea. I am sure that each of my colleagues is able to hum a jingle even now, which, apart from the psychedelic rhythms on the border between disco-polo and the monotonous voice of the teacher, breaking through the text of the song also sung in Italian, interpreted by me as Japanese at that time, was only raising the emotions accompanying each new episode. Well, but what emotions? Everyone knew from the beginning how the next episode would end and who would win was already revealed even in the song. I'm sure none of us went into the details of the eternal battle between Yattaman and Drombo. Probably noone in the kindergarten knew in about the existence of a mysterious stone called Dokuro, which long ago shattered into pieces scattered throughout the Earth and has the power to reveal the location of the largest gold deposit in the world. But it didn't matter. If we had something to trade then, we would probably open a mini STS placing bets and pledging everything, even your favorite bag for slippers, just to win on which robot to fight evil will choose Yattaman today. And this thrill at the end of each episode, combined with an attempt at total self-control, not to shout out: naked!!! This could mean the end of the adventure with Yattaman during the kindergarten's working hours, which is why each of us tried to stop on a frivolous giggle.

As you can see, in my last year of kindergarten, Yattaman became forgotten, loosing the fame fight with Zorro.

The fairy tale itself somehow awakened the imagination. Simulated driving on Yattakan, hanging on the bars of a rusty, preschool fence, after which the hands had hollows from wires, remnants of decreasing paint and a specific smell of rust on the skin. The painstaking learning of the dance of victory with commitment not present even during rhythm, to such an extent that during rehearsals often earned an elbow from a partner. And above all verbal scuffles who is more like Yattaman and before the next carnival party will definitely persuade their mother to sew their costume to outclass the competition. Not to mention the fact that looking from today's perspective of the main character of the fairy tale, I am able to draw far-reaching conclusions and associate his appearance with my ideal type of man. Only those flare trousers...

The preschool adventure with Yattaman was basically my only common path with anime. As with Mango TV (click and read), I remained faithful to my first television love, which is why I never got interested in Sailor Moon's junior classes. A short episode with Super Pig didn't break me either, and subsequent removals and a collision with my peers in Podhale, who had never heard of Yattaman before, confirmed my belief in the right choice of being their ambassador to this day.

#yattaman #mangotv #polonia1 #lifewithkasia #childhood #memories #carnival #santaclaus #domoweprzedszkole #kulfon #tiktak

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libraford · 5 years

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ROSE PROFILES, Part 2. (here is Part 1) Tag yourself at your own risk. I am not responsible for what might happen if you tag your friends or OC’s.

First Photo: Pink O’Hara (pink)

Second Photo: Cool Water (purple) and Early Grey (gray)

Third Photo: Freedom (red), Vendela (white), Senorita (light pink)

Fourth Photo: Corazon (red), Quicksand (tan, top), Faith (dusty rose), Gold Strike (yellow).

Fifth Photo: Black Baccara (dark red), Sweet Akito (light pink),Topaz (dark pink)

Sixth Photo: Deep Purple (purple-pink), White O'Hara (white-pink), Isabel (yellow)

Seventh Photo: Turtle (yellow), Akito (white), Amsterdam (coral pink), Curiosa (chocolate, bottom)

Profiles below:

Pink O'Hara is a Fairy Princess, and by this we mean this both in the 'ethereal and gorgeous' sense but also in the 'will make you dance until your shoes fill with blood' sense. Well-meaning, but chaotic energy. Always smells nice. Refuses to touch certain things.

Cool Water works hard for the money and saves every dime. They have a jar of change that they keep by the door and they empty their pockets every time they enter or leave the house to make sure no spare change goes uncounted. Despite this, is still deep in debt.

Early Gray is naturally good at a number of things that honestly you wouldn’t even think of: paper quilling, container gardening, calligraphy. They collect random skills in the same way that other people collect figurines or shiny rocks. When they’re bored, they find a way to combine their skills into something unique and strange for no other reason than to see if they can.

Freedom is about as basic bitch as they get. Starbuck’s, Instagram-ready, tote bag with something written in cursive. Not even a little bit apologetic about it. Owns their basicness. Flaunts it, even.

Vendela is too busy to be bothered with idle conversation. Either get straight to the point or stop talking altogether and come back when you’ve got something to say. Isn’t the boss, but will dole out orders to anyone who looks like they might be bored. Does not like seeing people on their phones.

Senorita is currently and will likely never grow out of their sweet lolita phase. Tea over coffee. Cookies over cake. Doesn’t talk much, but smiles a lot. Very into bows right now.

Corazon falls in love with every person they meet, whether it’s good for them or not. Horrible flirt, can’t seem to stop. Spends time in coffee houses writing poems about love and love lost. Will be in love on Thursday, broken-heated on Friday, and back in love on Saturday. Ah- the heart is so fickle.

Quicksand had better watch that sarcastic tongue before someone chops it right off. Cannot help themselves, has to make a snide remark and what’s worse is that it always bites. Expert of insults that cut to the bone, only just now started learning how to apologize.

Faith is a poet, but the jury’s out on whether they’re a good one or not. Prefers blank sketchbooks to lined paper for their musings and only works in black ink. Loves rainy days. Visits cemeteries.

Gold Strike is an optimist and will do their best to turn around any bad situation, but the important part of it is that they mean it. Works well under pressure and in fact thrives. Smol, but fiesty.

Black Bacarra is dangerous. Cheats at cards, starts fights they shouldn’t, smokes, drinks, and talks smack. Always carries a knife and just prays to the gods that the other guy doesn’t have a gun. No one’s quite sure enough that they’re a good person to have on your side or if they’re just a liability.

Sweet Akito is trying very, very hard to be liked but even if they do all the things that the popular people do it just doesn’t seem like it’s enough. They’re so exhausted trying to keep up with trends and honestly they’re quite confused by all of it and they try so hard. Some days they just don’t know who they are anymore, so when told to ‘just be themselves’ the best they can do is laugh.

Topaz is a performer! Right now it’s burlesque, but they’ve dabbled in hula hooping and fire-eating before. Has a different show every weekend and knows all the drama in town between performance troupes and indie artists. Will show you around town if you’re new, but can’t guarantee your tastes are going to match up- be prepared for a wild time.

Deep Purple works slow but at least they get the job done. Keeps a stash of granola bars in their desk just in case. Needs a margarita like... right now. Not great at drawing but doodles all over their notepads anyway.

White O’Hara is elegant! Always the best-dressed and makes it look effortless. Doesn’t give good advice, but is a great listener. Feels like you’re in the presence of a goddess, but like... a benevolent one. Will call the cops on that asshole at the bar.

Isabel tries so hard to be positive but some days it just doesn’t happen and spends as much of it as they can curled up in a ball in bed. Can only do so many things in a day and one of them is sleeping. Cries a lot, but then they’re fine.

Turtle is a little charmer. Listens to country music and wears cute little sundresses. Knows the names of all the plants, which ones are edible, and how to prepare them for eating. Stress-baker, and if they can make it strawberry-rhubarb flavored, they will.

Akito is the strong friend- in the sense that they do lift and also in the sense that they can handle a lot of emotional stress (even though they shouldn’t.) They’ve been through a lot, gone through a lot of healing as a part of the process. Knows how to reset a bone.

Amsterdam went to Hollywood once as a teenager and has decided that this is their destiny. Bedroom is plastered with photos of actors like Marilyn Monroe and Cary Grant. Christmas lights are the best accent for anything. Spends a lot of time in front of the mirror.

Curiosa plays the violin and gets mad if you call it a ‘fiddle.’ All black clothes, modern silhouettes. Takes things too seriously, could benefit from just one night of letting loose but we all know that’s not going to happen any time soon.

#rose profiles

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belphegor1982 · 5 years

Text

Aaand chapter 4!

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Summary: 1937: The O'Connells are required by the English Government to bring the Diamond taken from Ahm Shere from Cairo to London. Things get interesting when Jonathan bumps by chance into an old friend of his from Oxford, Tom Ferguson…

Chapter 4: Here We Go Again (on AO3 here)

Evelyn started to notice the peculiar, ominous feeling as she and Dr Hakim walked swiftly down the stairs to the Akhenaten room to inspect the scale of the disaster. By the time they got into the chamber and met with Abdul, the chief attendant, she was quite certain something was amiss, although she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

While Dr Hakim, Abdul and his aides tidied up the room in search for anything missing, she ran to the various ways in and out of the museum to check the locks. When she had eventually finished, she headed back to the chamber of Akhenaten, the Heretic.

“Doctor?” she called when she ran back into the room. “All the entrances are locked. At least they won’t be able to get out that way with anything heavy. What did they take?”

“Nothing,” answered the curator in a strained voice, stepping back from a shelf where he and Abdul had put back all the statuettes that had been thrown down. “Absolutely nothing. Not even the ivory figurine of Kheops, which was the smallest in the room and could easily be slipped into a pocket… It seems that they only meant to create a diversion.”

A diversion… None of the entrances had been forced. The museum was closed for the day, no visitor or foreign person was allowed entry. Someone had let them in.

A thought struck her and she opened her mouth, her eyes wide. “Dr Hakim – if none of the doors were broken, then they must have had help from the inside. And that means…”

Dr Hakim stared at her, his black eyes flashing. “Carry on, Dr O’Connell. Let’s see if your idea is the same as mine.”

“That means they would know the exact location of the diamond’s chamber,” Evelyn completed, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I believe it’s one of the most valuable items you have here… Valuable in certain eyes, of course, since most of the hieroglyphics and statuettes here are inestimable, but…”

She didn’t mention the true reason behind that idea – that everything related to Hamunaptra and Ahm Shere had so far brought nothing but misfortune every time it resurfaced. And she had the vague impression that now was going to turn out to be one of these times. Here we go again, as Rick would have said.

Oh, goodness, Rick had been right about the diamond. He would never let her live it down.

Dr Hakim nodded and spoke a few words in Arabic to Abdul, who gave orders to his aides. It was strange to see Abdul in charge – he had been one of the youngest attendants in her time as the museum librarian.

“Come,” Hakim told her, as Abdul took out his duty truncheon, the only weapon the three of them owned. As they all but ran toward the diamond’s room along the many halls and corridors, the ominous feeling of foreboding turned into a state of near-panic. Jonathan…

“Yā salām!1” The curator’s voice echoed through the high chamber when he crossed the door, startling Evelyn, who had never heard him swear before. She rushed into the room after him and Abdul, and her blood froze in her veins when she caught sight of the crumpled figure of her brother lying on the floor in front of her. He looked very white, and deadly still.

“Jonathan! Oh my God, Jonathan, no… please don’t be dead, please –” She dropped next to him, shaking, trying hard not to look at the small puddle of blood where his head lay. “Abdul!”

The chief attendant, who had apparently been checking on Tom, came near her. His face was pale.

“The other Englishman lives, but he’s been knocked out. Is your brother –?”

“I don’t know…” Evelyn choked out the words, tears stinging her eyes. “I can’t feel his pulse, my hands are shaking too much…”

Abdul looked at her, his eyes sympathetic, and put two fingers on Jonathan’s neck. After a few seconds, he turned to Evelyn with a smile.

“He’s alive, Mrs O’Connell. He has taken a nasty blow to the head, but he’ll live.”

Evelyn closed her eyes, breathing deeply, still shaking. She was aware that a tear or two had rolled down her cheeks, but Abdul was tactful enough not to say anything. She would have been so much more embarrassed had Dr Hakim been there instead. He was a man of such self-control that she would have been ashamed of losing her head so utterly in front of him, she who so often called on cool logic and sensible reasoning.

She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, and looked around. Tommy was lying flat on his stomach a few feet away, sporting a large lump at the back of his head, and the curator seemed to be trying to revive him. Pieces of glass were scattered over the floor on a spot near the wall, and when her eyes followed the wall up to the window, she saw that it had been shattered.

Sure enough, the Diamond of Ahm Shere was no longer lying on its display shelf.

“Dr Hakim? Where is the assistant, Jamal?”

The curator came to stand near her, his face grim and set. “Gone. I believe the thieves would have notified us if they had taken him hostage, so it is more likely that he was their accomplice. We were both right: they had a man inside, and they did come for the diamond.” His eyes flickered down to Jonathan, and back to her. “How is your brother?” he asked, in a softer voice.

Evelyn lightly touched her brother’s cheek. As he showed no sign of waking, she said, her throat still tight, “Unconscious. Somebody stunned him.” Her eyes fell on the sceptre clenched in Jonathan’s right hand. His fingers were clutched so tightly around it that she had trouble making him let go. She gave a sad smile, as it occurred to her that he probably hadn’t had time to use this makeshift weapon.

“Abdul,” said Dr Hakim after a little while, “fetch Ahmed and the others. We will need their help. And a doctor, too, just in case.”

Her heart was starting to slow back to its normal rate. She let her fingers run very gently on Jonathan’s cheek, looking at his white, still face. It seemed so wrong. It was hard to think he wasn’t going to open his eyes, wink at her, and tease her for looking so scared.

Because she hadn’t been frightened this badly in a long time. And it would have been so awful if… Stop it right here, girl. No ‘ifs’. Things are bad enough already…

Evelyn regretted, now, having started that silly conversation about marriage earlier. At the time it had seemed such a smart idea to take her brother’s mind off her suspicions about Tom Ferguson. The matter sounded pretty stupid now compared to what was surely to come, what with the Diamond being stolen and what could ensue…

She could use a little teasing to soothe her frazzled nerves, she realised. Even if – or rather, especially if – if it came from her brother.

.⅋.

Whatever bloody git said that your ears were the first to function when you woke up was so bloody wrong, Jonathan decided. There was nothing he could hear, see, or feel, except for the overwhelming pain that started in his head and extended to the very tips of his fingers. When was the last time he’d got knocked out cold? He couldn’t even remember the reason, either, only that the aftereffects hadn’t been much worse than a solid hangover.

Not much worse, my foot, as Evy would say.

Evy…

He was beginning to hear something, in fact. Her voice, he was certain of it. Unusually subdued, and he couldn’t understand the words, but it was definitely his sister’s voice.

What had happened? Oh yes, that blow to his head. Just thinking about it made him want to empty his large stock of curses. If he hadn’t been so stupid as to turn round at the sound of the window breaking, he could have actually done something, instead of letting himself be knocked on the head and let the diamond be –

The diamond. Bloody hell!

The shock of the realisation, if he had been awake, would have taken his breath away. Instead, in this state, the effect was that he could at last hear properly.

“How can you say that! Mr Ferguson has just told you exactly what happened – there was no way they could have stopped them from getting the diamond!”

Evy’s voice, again. And she sounded angry.

“I am not putting the blame on any of these gentlemen, but we are facing facts here – the Diamond of Ahm Shere has been taken, and we have no idea who has it, or where, or why!”

All right, that was Hakim’s voice, as close to genuine wrath as it could get. Well, he had every right to be, after all.

Jonathan worked hard on willing his eyes open. He failed. It felt as if the three pyramids of Giza were sitting on his lids to keep them shut. So his valiant efforts only resulted in more pain. Ouch. Dammit.

A damp cloth was pressed against his temple, and it felt so good that he was tempted, for a moment, to stop thinking at all and sink back into blissful unconsciousness. Then it occurred to him that the hand holding the cloth was probably Evy’s, and that she might be worried about him. Now, in any other circumstances, he would have enjoyed being coddled by his sister, but right now didn’t seem to be the ideal time. Come on, old boy, you can do better than that.

At the expense of another effort, he managed to open his eyes just a little bit.

For all the fond memories he had of Egypt, there were a few annoying details one simply couldn’t push aside. The sand, for one – nasty, sticky thing with the even nastier habit of getting everywhere, and that meant everywhere. Also, the heat, overwhelming, crushing from ten in the morning to ten in the evening. And the fact that such a heat tended to make every kind of stench ten times stronger. You just had to get used to those sorts of things.

But there was also the light. That beautiful, blinding, ever-present bloody light that was one of the reasons why Evy loved Egypt so much. You just didn’t get this sort of light in London, even in the middle of August.

And Jonathan had just been painfully reminded of that particular detail.

“Jon! You’re awake – it’s about bloody time, mate!”

Jonathan winced at the boom of Tommy’s voice. Of course, that meant his friend was alive and well, and he was genuinely relieved to hear that, but… for cripes’ sake, did he really have to shout?

He opened his eyes fully this time, and a blurry figure came hovering into view. Evy, by the look of it. “Oh, Jonathan, thank God… Are you all right? How do you feel? Do you know what time it is?”

“Do you really want to know, or is it just to check on the state of my head?” How he managed to crack that grin, he didn’t know. But he immediately wished he hadn’t when the headache threatened to split his head in two. “I don’t have a clue as to the time, but to answer your second – was that second? – question, I feel like I’ve just been dug up from my grave. Next time our mummy pal wakes up again I must ask him for tips.”

His vision was clearing swiftly, and he had the pleasure of seeing Evy give a smile, albeit a rather shaky one. When the fourth occupant of the room spoke, however, there was nothing cheerful in his voice.

“Do not jest about the Creature! I realise the blow you received was severe, but we must return to graver matters. The Diamond has been stolen.”

Jonathan had figured that out, but couldn’t help a pang of remorse. He nodded glumly as Dr Hakim carried on. “As of now, nobody can tell for sure the purposes of the thieves, who they are or who ordered the attack. Whoever they are, they are organised – I think I can safely venture the opinion that things were already set up three months ago, when I hired Jamal Hassan as assistant –”

“Whoa, hang on a sec,” interrupted Jonathan, trying to sit up on his elbows and ignore his throbbing head, which wasn’t as easy as he’d thought. “You mean Jamal, as in that young fellow who was in the chamber with us?”

“Seems so,” answered Tommy grimly. He was sitting on a chair a few feet away, pressing a cloth to the back of his own head, and it was only then that Jonathan noticed that they were in the curator’s office. His head had been lying on Evy’s folded jacket, and when he turned to have a closer look, he saw the traces of blood on it. No wonder she’d looked so relieved when he had opened his eyes. If it had been Evy lying there, and her blood on that jacket, he would have been scared witless.

It took him a minute for the piece of information about the young assistant to sink in. Then he leaned back with a groan. “Why, that little bugger! If I’d known…”

“If I had known, the diamond would still be there, protected and guarded by us,” said Hakim, his jaw clenched. “I will inform my chieftain about it, and the Elders as well. We need a plan.”

“Do you really think that this theft might – that the thieves know what the Diamond could achieve and will be using it?” asked Evy anxiously.

“I do not know. Maybe my chieftain will have another opinion, but mine is that we should wait for the next move. We don’t know enough to do anything yet.”

“How long before Ardeth Bay is informed, do you think?”

Jonathan’s eyes darted between Evy and Hakim, and they were back on Evy as he inquired, “Erm, do I really need to ask what the, er, thieves could ‘achieve’ with that diamond if they used it?”

“Do you really wanna know?” deadpanned Tommy, and Jonathan was glad to hear that he had dropped the posh accent he’d used earlier to get into the curator’s good books.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I do – if that can keep me from having my head split open again.” He looked at his sister, and something dawned on him as she stared back at him with an expression he knew only too well. “Oh, no. No. Not again – not the whole ‘wipe out the world’ thing – Evy, dear, it’s getting a bit old, don’t you think?” And don’t you think we’re getting a bit old for this, too?

Evy sighed. “Honestly, Jonathan, you know that if I could prevent it from happening – but the fact is, we’re involved again, and we can’t just leave things as they are –”

“Sure, I know that. Don’t ask me to agree with you, but I actually understand your point. But do you really think Rick is going to agree with you as well? Last time he got involved in supernatural stuff was only because that blighter kidnapped Alex – that’s what it took to drag him here. And now, the only reason for his being here is that he has your word – your word, Evy! – that nothing will happen. No funny business, no mummies, no Book, and no diamond!” Jonathan impressed even himself by that speech. Of course the diamond being stolen bothered him. But if the price for getting it back was his sister going out to risk her life again and facing afterwards the legitimate wrath of the six-foot-tall heap of American muscle that was his brother-in-law… Then the hell with it. He didn’t care tuppence about the sodding thing.

Evy looked appalled, but her brother didn’t give her time to retort.

“You didn’t get involved in anything, for cripes’ sake! It’s just been really bad luck that those fellows chose just that very moment to steal that diamond –”

“Excuse me,” said Hakim in a cold voice, “but I think that if someone was indeed ‘involved’ in this, it would be you, not your sister.”

Jonathan and Evy both gaped at him, while Tommy began to laugh quietly at the two of them. A minute ticked off before Evy replied, her eyes wide, “Come on, Dr Hakim, you – you can’t be serious! As my brother said, he was just unlucky enough to be in the Diamond’s chamber with Mr Ferguson and young Mr Hassan – you can’t implicate him in this!”

“Oh, he can’t ‘implicate’ me, but you’re dying to get involved, aren’t you?” said Jonathan, sarcastic. “Typical.”

“Just you keep out of it, Jonathan,” snapped Evy. “And don’t move. The doctor said you should lie down for a moment.”

“I feel perfectly fine, thank you very much –” Now this had to be his biggest lie in months. His head felt about to explode. “– And may I remind you of the subject? Meaning your not going off to some godforsaken pyramid on some ‘let’s save the world and die in the process’ mission!”

He regretted the words the second they came out of his mouth, but there was no way to take them back. An eerie hush fell; both Tommy and Hakim were quiet, looking either at the two of them in turn, or at anything else but them. Evy was staring at him, looking both shocked and something else that he couldn’t decipher. When she spoke at last, it was slowly and in a low voice, her eyes not leaving his.

“I think we should talk about this sometime, Jonathan.”

“Well I don’t,” he retorted, his voice just as low. “And don’t change the subject.”

“Far be it from me to interfere in your – family business,” said the curator in an uncharacteristically subdued voice, “but I think the best idea would be for you to go back home, and then to England. Technically, your errand here is over.”

“Oh, no, it isn’t!” exclaimed Evy spontaneously. “We’re here to get this diamond to England, and we will get it to England! No, Jonathan, don’t say anything,” she said sharply, barely turning to him, as he opened his mouth. He shut it with a snap. “I already know your opinion about it.”

“Evy, come on…” Jonathan put on his best ‘big brother’ voice, despite the fact that Evy was generally impervious to it. “All right, so the diamond was stolen. We could – I don’t know, go back to England, wait for news, and eventually return if they find it again!”

But Evy’s resolve seemed to be made of steel. She didn’t accept one word against what she believed was right, and somehow, Jonathan admired this iron determination… Even if he was slowly starting to believe that all this was going down the drain.

For a change.

.⅋.

The muffled sound of a violent row was going on from the ground floor through the floorboards, and even if Jonathan couldn’t make out the words, the gist was obvious.

He had thought Rick would be mad. He had been wrong. Rick had gone completely and utterly livid when Evelyn had told him about her decision to stay in Egypt until the diamond was recovered and help, if help was needed. And now they were both going at it, in a very angry, so very uncharacteristic way. The walls rattled from the shouting.

It was so wrong. After all they had been through, it was so wrong to see the two of them fighting so angrily.

There was a slight knock on the door, and a second later, a pair of bright blue eyes was peering across the room. “Uncle Jon? You awake?”

“Yes, Alex, come in,” Jonathan called, sitting up in bed and leaning against the pillows. He had crawled up in his room when Evy and him had arrived, and since Rick had come back just after diner he had abandoned any idea of sleeping. There had been some whispers, then the conversation had begun in earnest, and he had been staring at the ceiling for some time now.

Alex slipped into the room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He looked hesitant.

“Mum said I should let you rest, but… well, I can hear everything from my room, so I – I figured that from yours it couldn’t be much worse…”

“No harm done. I couldn’t sleep anyway. And I think I could use some of your excellent company.”

Alex smiled, and came to sit on the carpet beside the bed, the way he would when something bothered him, or when he just wanted to chat. Then he appeared to change his mind and sat on the bed, his back against the bar at the foot of the bed. Jonathan handed him a pillow.

“Thanks,” the boy said, putting the pillow behind him and propping his back up against it. He waited a few seconds, then looked at his uncle, a slightly worried expression on his face. “Uncle Jon, you – you look kinda pale, you know.”

“That’s nothing,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’m fine. I’ve been knocked on the head before – takes a lot more than that to get rid of me.”

Second smile from his nephew, a little more confident this time. “Yeah, I figured. For all the times Dad said he was gonna kill you…”

“Oh, he almost did, once or twice.” Jonathan flashed a grin. “And your mum saved my neck, always. Well, not always – sometimes.”

Alex gave a puzzled frown. “What d’you mean, ‘sometimes’?”

“Well, remember what I told you about the first time I met your dad?”

“You mean, when you nicked the Key of Hamunaptra from his pocket?”

“Exactly. And you know of course how your mum came to that prison to see the man who owned the blasted thing?”

Alex rolled his eyes with a mock sigh. “The story’s been in the family for ages, Uncle Jon – Mum and Dad have told me that hundreds of times.” Then he sobered down, and looked at the door. “I’d almost like to hear that one from them again now. It’s funny, you know how they get all mushy and kissy? Well, frankly, I prefer them kissing than fighting.”

“So do I, son.” Jonathan sighed, as the row raged on one floor lower. There was a moment’s silence, after which Alex turned his head from the door back to his uncle.

“So, what was the point?”

��The point – oh yes, the point. Well, here’s me and your mum, waltzing into that prison – the way it was stinking, you have no idea – and asking to see the American. Too bad we didn’t have one of these fancy little cameras they have now. He looked like a caveman.” Jonathan refrained from chuckling. “What did Evy say? Yes, ‘Filthy, rude, and a complete scoundrel. Nothing to like there at all’2.”

“Mum said that about Dad?” Alex’s face hesitated between amazement and laughter.

“Oh, yes. That wild-looking man behind bars, and my Evy, not remotely afraid as she should have been, went straight to him to talk about that puzzle box. Of course, I’d said something or other about us being adventurers, or missionaries or some similar rot… And your dad, being the smart bloke I didn’t know he was, knew me instantly as the chap who had picked his pocket and punched me in the jaw. I can tell you, that hurt – a lot.” Alex snorted. “When I came round, first thing I saw was that wild American kissing my sweet, innocent baby sister.”

“Did that hurt more?” asked Alex, grinning. Jonathan gave him the deadpan look that was his nephew’s favourite.

“The day you have a baby sister, son, you’ll understand.” A beat. “Then again, I think your dad’s jab was what hurt most. That man’s fists are iron, I swear.”

The noise of the fight seemed to be dying down, on the ground floor. Besides that, the relative silence was comfortable enough.

“I just don’t understand Mum,” Alex sighed after a little while. “Why does she want to stay? Because that’s why they’re fighting, isn’t it? What happened at the museum?”

There was no escape from telling the whole story to a boy who could look at you that way. Jonathan hesitated a little, then looked at Alex sternly. “Don’t tell your mum I told you.” Then he sighed. “Well, you know, that mate of mine, Tommy – he sort of specialises in antiques, like your mum, so I saw it as a good idea to take him to see the diamond. Evy was very nice, talking that dragon of a curator into it, and there we went. We got to the chamber, through some sort of maze of corridors, and two minutes later, this assistant, Jamal, ran into the room and told us there’s been some funny business going on in another room.

“We stayed in the diamond’s room for its protection, him, Tommy and I – what are you laughing for, honestly? And a few minutes later, we started to hear some weird noise at the door. So the three of us came in front of it, ready to defend the diamond –”

“And the bad guys broke in through the window!” Alex finished, laughing. Jonathan shook his head with a sheepish smile.

“Ah… not quite. Someone did break the window, so we turned to see what was going on – that’s when the door opened with a bang. I didn’t have time to turn back, and then nothing. Complete blackout. And the diamond was stolen.” He winced. “Bit pathetic, eh?”

To his surprise, Alex did not joke this time. He seemed to think it over, and looked back seriously at his uncle. “No, I don’t think you’re pathetic. I mean, you can be at times, but –” Good Lord, if the boy is getting the same sense of humour as his father… “– But you’re my uncle, and if some guy says you’re pathetic I’ll land him one on the nose.” And he grinned.

Something swelled inside Jonathan’s chest. He had never heard Alex say something like that to him, and he found himself very proud of being worthy of such praise. Especially since it came from his nephew, who was not prone to making compliments.

In the silence that followed, they both could hear something quite unexpected – complete silence. Occasionally broken by whispers, or bits of phrases, but it seemed that the row was over. For the moment.

Alex looked up at the ceiling with a sigh of relief. “You know, back at school, nobody has a mum who’s an Egyptologist, and a dad who’s fought mummies, and –” there he grinned at Jonathan “– an uncle who’s a great bus driver… I wonder what the other parents fight over.”

Jonathan had to smile at that. The boy had a point.

“Still…” he continued thoughtfully, “I wonder what it’s like to live a normal life. Nobody believes me when I tell them about Imhotep, Lock-Nah and the rest.”

“Nobody?”

“Well, not quite. There’s Edgar – Edgar Jacobs, he’s in my history class. He wears glasses and he’s a bit bossy, but he’s fun to hang around with. And he knows his Egyptian history for sure.”

“And his parents don’t fight?”

“I don’t know. We don’t talk about things like that.” Alex puffed up his chest slightly. “We’re lads, you know how it goes.”

“Yes, I know.” Some things would never change, it seemed.

Alex gave a noncommittal shrug, then seemed to hesitate a bit, before asking, his voice a little unsure, “Uncle Jon, my grandparents… You and Mum’s mum and dad… Did they fight at all?”

This took Jonathan entirely by surprise. He blinked, then looked over at Alex uncertainly. “I don’t know. Maybe they did, but never in front of us. Our mother had quite the quick temper, Evy takes that after her, so I guess there must have been some times when they didn’t agree…”

Alex’s eyes didn’t leave his face. “What were they like?”

Jonathan was silent for a little while, gathering his memories. It had been a long time since he had last talked about John and Salwa Carnahan3. “Well… Father was tall, with a long face and nose. He had blue eyes, you can’t see that on the photos, of course. Smiled often enough, but didn’t laugh much. I reckon I look a little like him.”

“Was he nice?”

“That was – that’s not the best way to put it. He was always very calm, serious, sort of noble-looking… That I know I didn’t inherit from him. He could be very kind, whenever he wanted to, but most of the time he was very busy – we didn’t see that much of him. But I always thought he was quite brave, venturing into those cold, dark pyramids to find out about long-dead guys.”

He smiled Alex, who was drinking in his words, his blue eyes wide in childlike curiosity. “Then there was our mum. Whenever Father spoke about mummies, funeral rites and fantastic discoveries for science, she told us about all the myths and the legends of Egypt. ‘The Land of Living Sand’, she called it. That was my favourite part – I didn’t care much about the dynasties and things Evy was so keen about. She taught me every part of Egyptian mythology that I know, the stories of all the gods and everything – I’ve forgotten half of it now, but some stuff’s still fixed in my mind. She had a really vivid way to tell those stories.”

Alex gave a smile. He sat hugging his knees, his eyes shining. “Is that true, that Mum looks just like her? I’ve seen a picture of her on Mum’s locket. She looked pretty.”

“Yeah, she really was…” Jonathan stared into the distance for a few seconds, the beat of his heart changing ever so subtly. “She was, er… She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. And I don’t say that just because she was my mum.” As he went on, he hoped that his smile wasn’t too shaky. His forte was joking and obfuscating; this was getting dangerously close to awkward and maudlin. “She had – she had long, black hair, dark skin, bright eyes and a bright smile… It’s true that Evy looks just like her. She really does. Of course, there’re some differences, but – you get the gist.” Alex nodded enthusiastically. “She was the one who’d sit at our bedside, when Evy and I used to sleep in the same room, and tell us stories. There was a war between Evy and me, to see who would stay awake longest. I made a point of winning, because I was the older brother – but she often beat me. You know your mum, when she’s set her mind on something…”

Alex gave a lopsided smile, and Jonathan grinned back. Despite the apprehension he’d had at first about getting into all those old memories again, in the end, it felt rather good to share them with his nephew. Not to mention the fact that the boy was only too pleased to hear those stories.

Of course, he should have anticipated the question that went next. But a part of him was still hoping that Alex wouldn’t ask. A part of him didn’t want to answer that particular question.

“How did they die, Uncle Jon?”

Right on target.

Jonathan winced, and inwardly searched for a way to dodge that question. Soon he could see a couple of escapes, but it felt dishonest to leave Alex hanging like this. Nobody could accuse Jonathan Carnahan of being honest, but he’d always made a point of being truthful to his nephew.

“Your mum never told you?”

Alex squirmed slightly against the pillow. “Well, not really. It’s almost more difficult to get her to talk about my grandparents than you.”

“To tell the truth, partner, I’m not quite keen on the subject.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“So why don’t you go ask your mum, instead?”

Alex gave an annoyed sigh. “Because, right now, I’d like you to tell me about it!”

That took Jonathan aback. He had some difficulties understanding why on earth his word would be wanted more than Evy’s. That wasn’t the way things went, usually.

“All right, don’t fret, I’ll tell you… Right. It was a couple of years after the war, Evy had just turned nineteen, and I’d gone back to Oxford to try to finish my degree before Evy finished hers. Our parents had been in Britain during the war, but after the armistice they quickly followed Carter and Carnavon’s party back to Egypt. They were planning to work on the Valley of the Kings, you know, they’d dug up a whole lot of pharaohs’ mummies down there – something like thirty-five, or close enough. Father had been unsure about our mum going too, but she had said that Evy and I were adults now, and they could leave us on our own.” Hah. Even two years shy of twenty-one, Evy had been more of an adult than he was. “So the two of us stayed in England with that old hag of a housekeeper, Mrs Gladys Pemberton, and our parents were off to Egypt.”

Jonathan stopped a few seconds for breath. Alex said nothing, but his eyes demanded the rest of the story. There was nothing Jonathan could refuse his nephew when he was looking at him like that.

“It was in the middle of the summer holidays; mother and father had promised to come home and spend the rest of the summer with us, so we were both waiting for news. I think Evy spent hours waiting outside for the postman, but we were both inside the house when news finally came. There was a thunderstorm raging on outside, and, er –” there he gave a low chuckle “– I can’t say I was feeling quite easy. I didn’t like storms that much.” He never had, even before getting acquainted with the sound of shelling.

“I don’t, either,” said Alex quietly. Jonathan was quite touched by that confession. Alex was scarcely one to admit a weakness. He nodded in thanks, and carried on.

“So, that night, Evy and I were sitting under the table in the dining room, scaring each other stiff with ghost or mummy stories… Don’t ask, we used to do that a lot when we were kids, and it just seemed like the perfect night for it. And then there was a knock at the door. I went to answer – big brother and all that, you know, and Mrs Pemberton had the week off – and this fellow was standing on our doorstep with a gloomy face. I remember that he had a fez in his hand, a white suit, and dark eyes. Must have been an aide of Carnavon’s or Carter’s, our parents used to know them well. Well, he gave me that big, thick envelope, planted a hand on my shoulder, and walked off like a ghost. And that’s weird, because it was not raining. I should’ve continued to see him till he passed through the gate, with all the lightening going on.”

Outside the window, the sun was quickly setting down on Egypt. The sky was streaked with gold and fire, and in other circumstances, Jonathan would have found some interest in gazing out the window if he had nothing to do but wait for the opening of Cairo’s bars. But he didn’t feel in the mood tonight. Rather weird, that, all things considered. A stiff drink was usually exactly what the metaphorical doctor ordered.

“The letter was from Lord Carnavon himself, telling the two of us that Salwa and John Carnahan’s plane had gone down over the Mediterranean an hour after taking off from Cairo. When I reached the end of the letter, I remember Evy calling me, and then nothing at all – total blank. I didn’t faint or anything, your mum told me so, but the next thing I knew, I was sitting on the floor against the sofa of the living room, and Evy was curled up against me, crying with her head on my shoulder. I think we remained like that all through the night. It was a living nightmare.”

Alex’s blue eyes were sad, his face serious – once again, rather too serious for his age. He sat silently, his chin resting on his knees, looking intently at his uncle. Jonathan looked away for a second, then back to stare at the boy, hoping that his face did not give away too much.

“You know, back at that… place – Ahm Shere – when you did what you did with that book… I’m sure your mum and dad must’ve told you that hundreds of times, so perhaps you’ll be sick of hearing it again, but… I’m so bloody proud of you, Alex. I never could’ve done it myself – and I really wouldn’t trust myself with any of these blooming books again. Last time I did, it was the Book of Amun-Ra, and I let it drop into a hole full of revolting stuff. I think your mum might have murdered me if we hadn’t been in such a hurry to get out.” Jonathan tried hard to put feeling into the smile he gave his nephew. Alex’s expression was a weird one, halfway between a grin and fighting to keep a stiff upper lip.

“You never told me that.”

“What, that stuff about the Book of Amun-Ra? How much of an idiot do you think I am?”

“No, I mean –” Alex rolled his eyes, and looked back up at Jonathan with a wobbly smile. “Well, thanks. A lot. You know what I mean.”

“Not at all, partner.” Jonathan grinned and leaned back against the pillow. To tell the truth, he was starting to feel a mite tired, which he normally never did before two or three in the morning. But that was maybe due to his being knocked out earlier. That sort of thing tended to play merry hell with your evening plans.

That must have shown on his face, because Alex looked at him a little more carefully, narrowing his eyes. “D’you want me to leave?”

“Mmh? No, that’s all right – stay if you want to. Only I might fall asleep on you at some point.”

Actually, they kept talking for a fairly long time, until the sky by the window was pitch black, and Jonathan really couldn’t utter a word more. He fell asleep abruptly, while Alex put his head on the pillow, thinking about many things at once.

.⅋.

When Evelyn came in quietly to see if everything was all right, she smiled as she saw uncle and nephew each sharing an end of the bed, one sleeping soundly and the other dozing off. She called Rick for help and the two of them carried Alex to his own bedroom, then got him out of his clothes and into his pyjamas, and tenderly tucked him under the sheets.

Rick was still a little aloof with her, and she heartily hoped that tomorrow would change that. It was not as things should be. Whenever trouble came, she always could rely on Rick’s support. When the Bembridge scholars had decided she was too prone to triggering off catastrophes to run the British Museum properly after all, he had stood faithfully at her side. When her evil supervisor Mr Harwood-Miller had made her first few weeks in the Museum a living hell for no apparent reason, Rick had suggested locking him up in Imhotep’s sarcophagus with a few flesh-eating scarabs, and when that had failed to cheer her up, to have a little chat with him. An ‘O’Connell’ chat, of course. And when they had received news from Alex’s school that he had had an accident and had been taken to the hospital, her husband had been the one who had kept her from going insane from the lack of news. And the one to wrap her in a bear hug when it turned out that Alex had only had his arm broken after some foolish stunt with friends of his.

The possibility that he could not be there for this diamond thing left her with a cold feeling of defeat. Of course, nothing like the Hamunaptra and Ahm Shere episodes was going to happen this time, but the thought of Rick not being on her side was nothing short of excruciating.

As she changed into her nightdress, she thought about the diamond, and what else it could bring upon her family. Having her brother hurt and her husband on bad terms with her was, in her opinion, enough ill luck.

How could things get worse than that?

Famous last words, old girl, said a familiar voice in the back of her head as she fell asleep in turn.

__________________________________

1يَا سَلَام‎ (oh my God)

2Evy’s actual words were “I don’t like him one bit” – “nothing to like there at all” is what Jon says to tease her. Figured Jonathan’s memory would be a little selective, as memory is sometimes.

3The Mummy Returns novelization has Evy’s and Jonathan’s father’s name as Howard Carnahan, but I only read it ages after ‘John’ became my set-in-stone headcanon. ‘Salwa’ is an Arabic name meaning ‘solace’.

Hope you liked this little dive into backstory/headcanon!

#Fairy Tales and Hokum #my stuff #fanfiction #the mummy #the mummy films

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nemossubmarine · 5 years

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DA RP: Mini-adventure #4

I have no clue when this was actually played. Like october last year? Anyway, this little mini-adventure featured a guest in the form of Gimlet’s player, who played a qunari mage by the name of Timo. But now, let’s see if I can untangle these notes of mine enough to make an actual write-up.

This story, as all good stories, starts with someone almost dying. Our ship’s resident actually qualified teacher mage Konstantine has not been doing that great since our heroes ran into lyrium trouble and he went into a coma for a bit (back in campaign 14, if I recall correctly). It goes so bad that Elspet has to do some magics to bring him back from the brink of death. But even Elspet isn’t all-skillful, if Konstantine can’t keep himself going from day to day. Not to worry, Konstantine isn’t keen on dying so he has an idea. He produces a letter from an old friend of his, a wandering mage named Timo, who collected all kinds of books. The letter tells of an old arcane warrior -related book that Timo thought Konstantine would like; he’d bring it next time he was in town. Unfortunately this letter got around to Konstantine just before he ”passed away” officially, so he never got the book. Konstantine asks our heroes to locate Timo and ask if the book is still in his hands. Our heroes agree.

Our heroes start their looking in a Nevarran coastal town where Konstantine used to write letters to Timo. From there they learn that Timo has gone off to southern Orlais, looking for a village that was burned down somewhere in the 7th Age by the name of Besagnon. Our heroes take Barbamama and their cart and start catching up with Timo.

By mere coincidence our heroes find Timo just before he reaches Besagnon. Timo turns out to be quite a tall fellow, a tall definitely qunari fellow, a fact that Konstantine failed to mention. Boshara makes some heart-eyes in Timo’s general direction (on account of him being the aforementioned tall qunari fellow), but Timo ignores them. He is quite delighted to hear that his friend Konstantine is alive, and will be more than happy to provide the book, perhaps after our heroes have helped him with Besagnon. What is he doing in Besagnon anyway? Timo mentions that a Nevarran mage used to live in the town as a blacksmith back before the town burned, and he apparently had written some interesting books.

Randy asks what they are waiting for and orders Barbarama to gallop, he’ll race everyone there. And off everyone is towards the ruins of Besagnon. Incidentally the ruins are far from empty, there’s a group of Chantry folk camping at the ruins, including a rather famous scholar by the name of Brother Genitivi. Genitivi invites our heroes to join him and his people for an evening meal. While they’re eating, Genitivi recounts the tale of Besagnon, how the town burned down in mysterious circumstances, and how the people who managed to escape were talking about rats living in the walls. Genitivi himself is here to do digs in the ruins of the town Chantry, to recover its beautifully decorated bell.

After a nice evening out, everyone retreats to their tents for a night’s rest well-earned. Unfortunately the rest is interrupted to some of our heroes, as they wake up to the sounds of laughter around them, and see ghostly figures moving in the darkness, including a distraught monk begging people to escape the fire. There appears nothing to be done about this, so after the sounds cease, our heroes go back to rest.

In the morning Timo and Humbert decide to join brother Genitivi in his digs around the fallen over bell tower. The rest of our heroes, Boshara, Alf, Randy and Elspet go look inside the ruined temple itself. Pretty soon the quartet finds the cellar of the Chantry. Looking around Alf spots something hiding underneath a wine barrel, some kind of animal. This animal turns out to be a skeleton of a cat, that moves and talks and is named Tau. Tau graciously allows himself be handled, and even tells that he was owned by a great mage once upon a time. Elspet notices a hole in the wine cellar and checks it out in her snake form, Tau explains that was where he came from, his master’s cellar.

Well clearly this is the mages house, so our heroes take Tau and go find the ruins of the house that used to belong to the mage. Timo and Humbert, gaining not much from following Genitivi’s work join them, and immediately upon seeing Tau in Boshara’s lap, Humbert grabs the poor skeleton cat and throws him away. Alf tackles Humbert before he can smash Tau to pieces. Tau hides inside a bush, but Randy manages to persuade him to come out and stay. While he does that, others talk with Humbert about how to properly handle a skeleton cat. Humbert protests that it’s clearly a demon and must be destroyed. Boshara says she’d like to keep Tau (and Humbert can’t say no to his daughter).

They go search around the ruins of Tau’s former home, which clearly was a smith’s house. Humbert finds a magical glove that appears to be heat resistant. Tau shows the door down to the cellar. It’s locked, and magically booby-trapped to heat up when touched but with Alf’s lock-picking skills and one heat-resistant glove the door is opened and our heroes descend into the mage’s room.

There are several overturned bookshelves and a great big hole in the floor. No sight of the book Timo is after. Tau mentions hearing laughing rats inside the walls before the fire, and claims that the hole in the floor is a rat hole. Everyone doubts this is truly the case. They do go into the rathole, and come upon a big room. Elspet, Boshara and Randy see a giant spider guarding it, and attack it. For everyone else the room is suddenly swarming with small goblinoid creatures, that Humbert recognizes to be ghasts, native to Orlais. Boshara, while distracted by the sight of the giant spider takes the biggest beating of her lifetime. Perched on top of a rock our heroes notice the leader of the ghasts, and also that it has tied two books to its body as kind of make-shift armor, one of the books is, of course, the book Timo is after. Randy hooks the leader ghast nearer and Elspet covers the area with sickly miasma. The battle is tough, but our heroes make it through, and so do the books, with only a little brain matter stuck in them!

Timo busies himself in extracting the books from the ghast’s body. One of the books is the necromancy tome he was looking for, one appears to be a fairy tale about a tiger named Tau (Boshara claims that one for herself to read for Tau).

The rest search the area. Randy finds a ring. Alf finds a corpse, stuck under a fallen bell. With the help of Randy and Humbert the bell is lifted. No doubt this corpse belongs to the monk our heroes saw last night. Timo uses his necromantic talents to contact the monk and tell him it’s ok to move on, that the people got away from the fire.

Our heroes hand the bell over to Genitivi who in return gives them some magical gifts (a necklace that gives +1 dexterity and a wooden figurine that you’ll always know where it is (this is given to Elspet)).

Our heroes ask whether Timo would like to join our ship as a librarian. Timo says that sounds fine for the moment, as long as he is free to go out to hunt the books he wants. So Timo is taken back to ship where he can hand out the book about Arcane Warriors to Konstantine himself, which he does.

A matter of Tau is brought up, and Humbert hands the skeleton cat to Konstantine for a look over. Konstantine says that Tau appears to be a spirit bound into the skeleton, but probably not a demon since his master was a necromancer of Nevarran creed and Nevarran necromancer prefer the use of spirits, as demons are a bit hard to handle. So Boshara is allowed to keep her skeleton cat.

THE END

#nemo roleplays #long post #campaign tag: bells are a ringing #da rp writeup #this was a nice lil thing imo #sometimes it's nice to just build a lil adventure around a creature

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pdpoofficial · 6 years

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Case 1: The Fairy Figurine, Part 6

Firewall

You leave the office briskly and head for the archive. Your team's good at their jobs, and you're confident they'll turn something up, but for now, you really want a look at that figurine. At the evidence room desk, you show the attendant your badge. "Sergeant Firewall with the 77th," you say. "I'm here to see the evidence from this morning, the Miller case."

Narrator

"The Miller case?", the personell behind the desk asks, eyes wide. "Well, doesn't 77 already have that in their possession? Just ten minutes ago, Sniffer picked it up from here to get it analyzed again!"

Firewall

It's not impossible that Sniffer went and got the figurine for you, but... You narrow your eyes, and quickly tap out a text to her

FW: did you pick up the figurine from the evidence room

before turning back to the attendant. "Did she. Do you know where she's taking it?"

MM: What? I haven't touched it! Did someone else? FW: fuck.

Narrator

“...Well", the personell goes, increasingly nervous. "To you, I thought? ...She's going to return it, right? Because I'm on two strikes, and - " they adjust their hair. Three strikes, you're out. Whether that means culling or not depends on the gravity of the matter, and judging by the way they fidget, they suspect that this weighs heavy.

Firewall

The attendant looks jumpy as hell, and you don't blame them at all. "Look," you say with a sigh. "Did you actually see her, yourself, in person, come and get it? And are the security cams around here working?"

Narrator

"Yes!", they squeak, "I'm not lying, miss - they should have the footage in the cutting room! I can't actually go myself, but i can have someone else go and fetch it for you - " By this point, they're standing, looking about ready to bolt.

Firewall

"I don't think you're lying." God, the last thing you need right now is hysteria. "Just... stay here, okay. Don't panic. I'll go to the cutting room and see what's up there -- you go and check to make sure the figurine certainly isn't in the archive still. Check any other evidence you have from this case as well, please."

Narrator

They breathe and calm themselves, apparently remembering that they're still a professional, even in situations like this. "Yes, miss. I'll inform you over email." A pause follows, in which they open and close their mouth again like they're trying to decide whether to say more. "...And could you do the same?"

Firewall

You don't like swapping information with people outside of your team, but you do appreciate the speed with which this one got back to formality. "Will do. I doubt this is your fault, and I'll mention such should I be asked. What's your handle?"

Narrator

A sigh of relief. "Thank you, miss. The handle is oddityLibrarian, written like it's spoken." They stand at attention now, the typical position fleet members take in front of a superior officer.

Firewall

You nod politely and turn on your heel. They'll relax eventually, but you're far more interested in the footage from the camera above the desk. The cutting room isn't too far of a walk, especially with your typical fast pace. You stride in with a scowl already building on your face, because, honestly, this is some bullshit. "Right," you announce. "Who's got the footage from the archive room for the last hour or so? I need to see it immediately."

Narrator

On the cue of Firewall storminng into the room, it's like a derailed train finally hits the wall it's been heading for. The room is in disarray, but as she raises her voice, all the activity stops at once. Arguments are dropped, coffee mugs are tilted, and an empty water bottle rolls across the floor towards Firewall's feet. Hesitant, one of the cutters points towards the one Sniffer spoke to not even ten minutes ago. "He has the footage", she says, and earns herself a glare, but no protest.

Firewall

It's like a madhouse in here, because of course. Leave computer nerds in each other's company for five minutes, honestly. You cross your arms and sweep your gaze across the room until someone speaks up. "Thank you," you say icily. "Was that so outrageously hard? You can all get back to work now." You point to the indicated cutter as you stalk in his direction. "Except you. Queue up the footage for me on the double, man, this is an urgent investigation."

Narrator

His mouth agape, he looks like he's frozen for a moment - before the cutter hurries to his spot, offering his chair to Firewall instead of taking it himself. "Of course, miss. Please. And - the footage, the footage." He fumbles the plug once before managing to stick it in his neck properly, but once he does, the screen turns into a rapid fire of color as he navigates through. Then an image of the archive room pops up, the time being fifteen minutes prior. Through the door, a figure moves - or, it could be a figure. What the camera picks up, instead, in one specific troll shaped spot: Is static.

Firewall

Nonplussed, you sling yourself into the chair and squint at the screen. You're not sure who you're expecting to see -- who would impersonate Sniffer? Who would screw with an internal investigation? -- but you're looking forward to having an actual suspect at last. Except it's not an actual suspect. It's ... it's static. "What's this?" you ask the cutter, jabbing a nail at the screen. "Is it a filming error, have you seen it before, what?"

Narrator

"Um", goes the cutter, fisting their hands into their uniform. "I have once, miss? I don't think it's a filming error, I think the camera's working fine. I think it might be - think it might be a person?"

Firewall

"Well, if it's not an error, then yeah, it's a person. Someone with stealth psi, from the look of things." You drum your fingers on the desk. "Mine just shorts out the camera; this is far more focused than that. You said you'd seen it before?"

Narrator

"Once, miss." The cutter closes his eyes as he lets image after image flicker over the screen - then hums in dissatisfaction as the images flicker faster. There's a shift, and they flicker backwards, then forward again - "...what? I could've sworn - " A library pops up, with thousands of tiny images, too small on the screen to even really see. "...What the hell", the cutter states.

Firewall

You sit up straighter, leaning closer to the screen. "What's going on?"

Narrator

"I." The cutter makes eye contact with his colleague, who leans over to listen. "It's gone." "What?", the colleague interjects. "It can't be gone. This is high security, you donkey. Footage doesn't disappear."

Firewall

"People in the PDPO don't get murdered in the Chief's office either," you point out,. "We're getting all kinds of fun new experiences tonight. You both saw the missing footage at one point, right? Describe it to me. Where was it taken, when, what did you see?"

Narrator

"...We saw someone take a laptop once", the second cutter explains, hand running through her short hair. "Came in through the front door, greeted the receptionist, and then walked right out with it." "The receptionist told us later that it was Shift, but she was on vacation in Neuja at that time."

Firewall

"And they showed up as static on the film?" you ask. "When was this? What was on the laptop? Because that--" you nod to the computer-- "was supposedly one of my teammates, who I know wasn't anywhere near the archive then. And now important evidence in the Miller case is missing."

Narrator

"Two sweeps back?" "Two, yes.", the colleague confirms. "No one knows what was so special about that laptop. It belonged to a newbie who was culled two weeks later for incompetence - but it was literally just paper work, nothing ground breaking." "There's a rumor - ", the short haired one starts, but her colleague hushes her. "Don't start with that bullshit!"

Firewall

"Tell me," you say at once. "Any detail, however small, could help."

Narrator

"There was a rumor", she continues, triumphant, "that that newbie stumbled on someone being dirty, and that's why they were culled." "There's also a rumor he was watching pailing videos, and that his matesprit was Bugflick Black. Come on, dude." "I'm just saying!", she says.

Firewall

It takes you a moment to uncouple the term dirty with the concept of pailing videos, but you manage it at last. "...Okay," you say. "And now the file's not here? How much footage is missing?"

Narrator

"The entire night. It's like someone was in a hurry and just cut it out", the longer haired one states.

Firewall

"The whole night." You uncaptcha a pen and scrawl notes down on your hand. "Okay. Show me the archive room footage from tonight again. And--" You frown. "Is there somewhere you can download it to, or print it out frame-by-frame? I don't want this vanishing on us too."

Narrator

Images flicker over the screen again, and the scene starts anew. "I'll be saving it to a us-bug drive and my pan, miss." His colleague looks at him like he's crazy, but doesn't comment further.

Firewall

"Good," you say with a curt nod. "Okay, now let it play, I want to see as much of what happens as I can."

Narrator

On the screen, the door opens. A figure walks through, more troll shaped static than anything. The archivist interacts with them as if there's nothing odd, nods at their hand as they extend it, then lets them through to the archive. The screen switches to the proper camera - the figure picks up the figurine calmly, then walks back out with it. As it travels, static nips at its edges, but doesn't swallow it. Then the archivist gives the figure a nod, and they disappear out the door again. The rest of the footage goes as follows The figure disappears in the bathroom, puts the figure into another ball of static that they seem to strap to their back, then calmly makes their way down hallways and out of the main entrance. The cameras outside still pick them up, but it's not long until they disappear into the crowd.

Firewall

"...Well, fuck." You slump back in your seat. "They're just fucking gone, I guess. But thank you. Kindly send me a copy of this footage, I... am likely to need it later, I suspect." You stand up briskly, rubbing your temples, and head for the door.

Narrator

Firewall barely gets to step a foot out the door before her tablet chimes, and the footage starts downloading onto it. On her way down the corridors, she passes the hallway leading to the interrogation rooms - where a troll is being led down in handcuffs. She mumbles something under her breath, movements erratic, until something seems to flip. "I can feel it", she shouts out, voice getting louder with every word, until it booms. "Something was here! Something was here!" It's followed by the immediate, unmistakable sound of a taser being activated, a scream - and then, utter chaos as she breaks her hand cuffs. She stares straight at Firewall, then fires a ball of light - something so quick, you would have missed it if you blink. And miss it she does - despite her efforts to dodge, and even despite her powers, the ball of light burns itself into her right shoulder, right at the point where muscle connects to bone. Thankfully, this was only the edge of the attack - the psionic is sloppy, and the rest of it lands in a wall behind Firewall. The psionic curses, but still decides to try her luck, running straight at our detective.

Firewall

The psionic attack burns agonizingly, but you have barely time to yell out your pain before the recently-escaped prisoner charges you. She's fast, but sloppy-crazy, and you side-step her initial rush. Once she's past you, you step forward, grab her arm with indigo-strength, and twist it up behind her back. You take hold of her other wrist with your right hand, ignoring the way your wound wrenches. "Stop," you say coldly. "You'll dislocate your shoulder. What was here? What do you know?"

Narrator

The psionic cries out, but isn't brazen enough to keep pushing as Firewall grips her. "Something!", she whimpers. "Something, something. Holy, maybe? Or touched by it." This close, it becomes apparent that there are tattooed white lines strewn across her freckled grey skin; lines that might be familiar to Firewall. Cultist symbols.

Firewall

Your grip tightens on her arms, and you twist her left one harder, hard enough to bruise. Cultists, again, and always. Cultists, because the world seems like it will never be cleansed of them, like there will always be another hiding under some rock or in some dripping sewer. "There's nothing holy here," you say, voice clipped and icy. "There's none of the corruption you call holiness either. This is the PDPO, and we do not permit that here."

Narrator

This time, she cries out louder, tears starting to run down her cheeks. "I'm sorry", she weeps, "Sorry, sorry! I know there's no place for me in these walls, I know!" The two officers who had detained her take over from there, clipping a standard class-3 nullifier around her neck before they put her in handcuffs again. "Sorry", one of them says to Firewall, "that shouldn'tve happened. We'll take care of it." Leading her back down the hallway, it doesn't seem like they have to; all the fighting spirit the psionic seemed to have is gone.

Firewall

They haul the cultist away, and you can't respond to their apologies because you're too busy fighting the urge to tear said cultist's throat out with your bare hands. You grind your teeth, clap one hand over your aching shoulder, glance once more around the room for any trace of contamination, and go on your way.

#in the field #case 1: the fairy figurine

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juzuya-13 · 5 years

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The 5 things tag, this was super interesting! Thank you so much for tagging me! @thefandomsurfer ♥

5 things you'll find in my bag :

1. Baby things. I don't carry a normal purse with me, I always bring a fully equipped maternity bag with everything my daughter needs, diapers, baby wipes, cream, water, food, fresh clothes in case she gets dirty, toys, among many other things.

2. My phone, I always make sure I have it fully charged when I'm out in case of an emergency or if I need to Google something, take a picture and whatnot.

3. My wallet, I always carry some money with me in case I remember something I might need from the store or if I see something cute for my daughter.

4. A notebook and a pen, I always carry it in case I need to note something down like a phone number, a date of an appointment or just a reference in general.

5. A book, I usually always carry something to read with me, usually it's a manga volume but it can also be just a regular romance novel, a book of short horror stories or a fun magazine, in case I find a good spot I can sit and relax a little :)

5 things you'll find in my room :

1. Toys, lots of TOYS, I have baby things all over my apartment and my room is no exception, also my daughter's crib stays in my room because I still can't seem to sleep without her (I get anxiety when she's not close to me) so I have many of her little squishy, fluffy toys in my room.

2. Manga, I have all of my manga in my room, I plan on moving it to the living room but for now it stays in my bedroomroom very neatly organized, it's very precious, all the stories that I own mean something important to me so it's sort of my treasure.

3. Some of my figurines, I have many of them and they're a little bit all over the house.

4. Candles, I have a little obsession with candles, especially scented ones so I enjoy my collection of cute, colorful, yummy scented candles.

5. Mystic books, I have a few books about mystical beings like dragons, mermaids, fairies, elves, among others, I love it very much, I've always been into magical things, I have a wild imagination and love to day dream.

5 of my favorite things :

1. My daughter, my daughter is definitely my number one, she's the person I love the most in the whole universe. I thought I knew all about love before but when she was born I felt something like I had never felt before, I look at her and I just genuinely, selflessly love her and want her to be happy and safe, I would die one thousand deaths for my daughter, she's everything to me. ♥🐥

2. My fiancé, he's the best person I know, I love him with my whole heart, he's always so selfless, caring, patient, constantly making sure we're alright, he's hard-working, intelligent, sensitive and unlike anyone I've ever met, he's also my best friend and the best father for our daughter, even when we disagree we never fight, he never raises his voice or loses his temper, I could go on and on about how grateful I am to him but I'll stop here. ♥

3. Nature, I love nature, I love taking long walks by the river or just lay down on the grass, listen to the rain and thunder, the wind, how colorful flowers are, everything about it is very poetic and soothing for some reason.

4. Anime/manga, I love reading manga and watching anime, it's always very entertaining, I enjoy the different art styles and I can always relate to the characters to some extent, I enjoy the different stories and morals behind it, it's something I've always really enjoyed since I was a child, it makes me happy.

5. Music, music is a huge part of my life, I'm always playing some sort of music throughout the day, even if it's just soft background music, or nursery rhymes for my daughter, music has always been a safe escape from everything and reality itself when I need it, it's funny how sometimes lyrics can speak for us, all the things we can't say.

5 things I'm into right now :

1. I'm currently rereading Death Note and I find myself falling in love with it all over again, I also plan on rewatching the anime with my fiancé soon, it's always been one of my absolute favorites alongside Tokyo Ghoul and Tokyo Ghoul : re.

2. My fiancé is ethnically South Asian and his native language is Bengali (he's also fluent in Urdu and Hindi which is pretty similar). We're both fluent in quite a few languages which is pretty awesome but in my case I only know European languages while he knows both South Asian and European (he's pretty awesome) so even though I already know the basics I've recently started really investing more of my time in trying to learn Bengali so I can one day surprise him by being able to hold a conversation, not to mention I love Bengali and Hindi music. 😁

3. The Arcana, I recently downloaded this game called The Arcana because I was searching for something interesting to play on my phone and it came up so I thought "Why not?" I've only been playing it for around 3 days but it seems pretty entertaining thus far and I love the art and mystery in it, it also has a very mystic vibe to it.

4. The Death Note original soundtrack, Death Note is wonderful in general and not only have I been obsessing over it all over again but also the music in it, it's just beautiful, I play it a lot around the house all day lately.

5. Fruit, I know this sounds weird but I've been eating a lot of fruit lately, probably because it's been extremely hot and fruit is fresh and juicy, I'm not sure but I've been definitely eating a lot of it, it's my favorite thing to eat at the moment.

5 things on my to-do list :

1. I'm currently organizing my daughter's birthday party, it's her first birthday and I'm a little obsessed with it, I'm a perfectionist and I want to make sure everything goes well, it's in less than a month and I've already got it all planned out so I'm pretty optimistic.

2. I've been wanting to watch an anime called Kakegurui, I've got my eyes on it for a good while so hopefully I'll start it soon!

3. Going to Europa-Park, we're planning on going a few days following my daughter's birthday and I'm super excited about it.

4. Take care of my mom's dog, my mom is going for a small trip this weekend and I'm supposed to take care of her dog so I'll have an extra baby in my home this weekend. 😁

5. Take care of the house, my usual domestic chores, do laundry, cook, keep the house clean, take care of my daughter, make sure she's safe, that's about it. 💛

(I feel for everyone that made it through reading this whole thing, I turned this into a proper interview :3 )

5 people to tag :

@mirrors-never-lie

@waternios

@haveanicedaymyself

@rilillia

@kit-kat57

🍓

#5 things tag #thank you so much for tagging me!!! ♥#I always have so much fun 😁#about me #tag game #tagged

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thorne93 · 5 years

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Tag Game

I was tagged by the fantastic @arrow-guy

Their Questions:

1. What’s your go-to junk snack?

Probably kettle cooked chips - original - lays. They’re kind of a weakness. I’m not a huge “sweets” person unless a random craving hits.

2. What was your obsession as a kid? (i.e: Horses, cats, fairies, ghosts, etc.)

Oh gosh, i probably had several. I had a huge Lisa Frank phase i think for all of like 5 years old until... now? I still love that shit, lol. I don’t buy it but i love it. I also had a huge unicorn and carousel phase, and a dolphin phase.

3. What was the first book that made you like reading?

Well, the first book I remember reading was a Sesame Street book, but I always loved reading and learning. But I think the first like “hey this is fun” books were R. L. Stine’s Fear Street. I read those when I was like 6-7. Teens murdering other teens, good stuff. lol

4. What was your first cell phone? Did you ever break it?

My first cell phone was a Blackberry 8800? I think is what it was called. No, I never broke it. I *think* it eventually just kind of got old? That or it got wet. I know two of my phones got wet. One of them I talked on it in a downpour as I walked to my car, the other one got knocked in a sink full of water. I immediately pulled it out, put it in rice, sucked out the water, hair dried it, and everything, but the software was just FUCKED after that. The keyboard was whack. I tend to try and baby my cell phones and I hold onto them until they’re just nothing left of them.

5. What’s your favorite pen?

Right now? Okay so my mom has these papermate pens for her work. They have a fine ass tip on them and I love them.

6. What’s the first Disney film you can remember seeing?

That I can remember? uuuh, gosh... I want to say Cinderella / Snow white? But when I was like 2, we have a home video of me getting Lion King shit and I was stoked, but to be honest, I didn’t remember ever seeing Lion King. I was in my 20′s before I ever actually sat down and saw the damn movie.... So idk ...

7. What do you collect?

What do I collect?? hmmm. Faberge eggs. Movie posters. Figurines (not POP). Artwork. Marvel artwork/posters

8. What’s your favorite Oscar award-winning movie?

Midnight In Paris

9. Do you put stickers on your laptop/water bottle?

I do! for one thing, twice, my family has bought like 3 similar looking laptops arund the same time, so I like to personalize mine in case we all have them at the table or something, i can find it quickly. I do it to my wallet too.

10. Who was the craziest teacher/professor/instructor you had while you were in school? What were they like?

Ohhh craziest, that’s tough. Crazy fun, or crazy mean? Well crazy-fun would be my high school physics teacher. He was a FANTASTIC teacher. For one thing, he got me to love physics. He’s the first teacher i ever had who actually cared that I didn’t understand the material. But he did shit like, he got the song “Dynamite” by Taio Cruz to sing “Hey oh, Galelio” for our astronomy class (I had him junior year for advanced physics, and senior year for astronomy). He was always funny and just, he had the same humor I had. He even liked the same music as me (rock/grunge/alternative)... Like if he tripped over his chair he would go “back off chair!” and like taking his yard stick and pretend to attack it, but not in an awkward cringey way, it was funny as hell. Crazy mean.... Shit, where do i start, I had a lot of shitty teachers... But i guess the worst one, was a teacher who got mad because I got up to blow my nose while she was out of the room. Not to mention all my FUCKING AWFUL PROFESSORS...

11. Are you registered to vote?

Yes, funny story -- I made this vow when i turned 18 to never get registered to vote bcuz i think the electoral college has the final say so and I was like my vote doesnt matter.... But one day, last semester, someone stopped me on campus and said “are you registered to vote?” i was just going to say “no” and then when they asked “would you like to be?” i was gonna be like “no thanks” but instead, I just suddenly decided “sure, i got 5 minutes” and did it. like, it was no big dealio. So yes, I’m registered. yes I voted.

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

My questions:

1) Have you ever witnessed anything magical?

2) If you could change one event in history, what would it be?

3) What is one thing you’d like to do without any repercussions?

4) What’s the best compliment you’ve gotten?

5) Is your first instinct usually right on someone, or do you always seem to end up wrong?

6) Do you still talk to anyone you knew in middle school?

7) What’s the best vacation you’ve been on?

8) Have you ever won any contests/sweepstakes? If so, what’d you win?

9) Would you rather have unlimited athletic potential (play any sport easily) OR have unlimited musical potential (play any instrument with ease?)

10) Build me your best cast line up. You don’t need a plot, or even a genre. Just give me your favorite actors that you think would be great in a film together.

11) Have you ever overcome a huge fear? If so, how did you do it? Do you still fear it sometimes or is it gone?

@sorryimacrapwriter @carryonmyswansong @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo @thejemersoninferno @xxqueenofisolationxx @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

#tag game

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space--cadet-glow · 6 years

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Theory: The Odd Headcanons of Vaati, Part Thirty-two: The Curious Case of Mazaal and Vaati’s Palace

There are a few questions concerning an automaton by the name of Mazaal that actually led me to question yet another thing about Vaati, so... What the actual heck is up with Mazaal and the Wind Tribe?

Here are the random assortment of questions that popped into my head: 1. How did the Minish build all the Armos for the Wind Tribe? 2. WHY did the Minish build all the Armos for the Wind Tribe? 3. If the Minish built the Armos, then, did they also help build Mazaal? 4. Why the heck can Mazaal shrink you down to Minish size, but not the Armos? 5. If the only way Mazaal can be deactivated is by shrinking down and going inside its head, WHY the heck was the "shrinking beam" implemented into Mazaal??? 6. Why did the Wind Tribe fly off with the Wind Element, but leave Mazaal behind? 7. Why didn't the Wind Tribe have Mazaal, or at least a second Mazaal, to protect the Wind Element up on the Cloud Tops? 8. Who NAMED Mazaal?

So, let's see...

1. How did the Minish build all the Armos for the Wind Tribe? There are a couple of possibilities for how this happened, as this question is not as severe as the others. First, the Minish HAVE been implied to use human-sized tools before, such as when the Town Minish helped Rem make shoes. This could be it; a group of Minish just banded together and built them with the Wind Tribe's tools. Second, the Minish just magic'd their way through it. They brought down the Light Force, after all! Or third, they made the Armos at THEIR scale, and then expanded them up to human-size once finished??? Any of these sound right, but the most likely ones are the first two, as we've actually seen the Minish do those things before. (The only thing I can think of that's close to the third option is Belari and his bombs; but the size-change wasn't even Belari's fault, it was Ezlo's).

2. WHY did the Minish build all the Armos for the Wind Tribe? By this extension, why did the Minish help the Hylians all those years ago? ...Well, the Minish love making people happy, as it gives them life energy. And making an entire TRIBE of people happy by building some statues seems like something the Minish would really get into. It was, simply, to make them happy.

3. If the Minish built the Armos, then, did they also help build Mazaal? Here's were it starts getting weird. There's evidence that they DID, but it's a bit odd. Mainly, the reason why I think the Minish might have built it is because of one little factor: are we just going to ignore the fact that Mazaal can randomly SHRINK YOU DOWN TO MINISH SIZE?! It's quite coincidental that a Minish-sized person is needed to deactivate that thing...

4. Why the heck can Mazaal shrink you down to Minish size, but not the Armos? There's only two options for this for now, I think. One, the "shrinking beam" was an accidental "quirk" that the constructors (who may or may not be the Minish) left in, either not knowing about it or forgetting to remove it. OR two, Mazaal was designed to shrink things on purpose, but the Armos weren't. Which doesn't make sense. Both the Armos and Mazaal are GUARDS, so why wouldn't they all have the same powers? They BOTH have to be deactivated by becoming small, after all! In fact, it would have made MORE SENSE if the ARMOS were the ones with the "shrinking beam", because if you'd become small and couldn't find a Minish Portal to get back, there would be no chance of you getting into the Fortress of Winds to battle Mazaal in the first place!

5. If the only way Mazaal can be deactivated is by shrinking down and going inside its head, WHY the heck was the "shrinking beam" implemented into Mazaal??? This POTENTIALLY has a stupid answer: remember how all the Minish really wanted to do was make people happy? This could have been a side effect of that. As in, perhaps the Minish (if they really did built it) added in a way to shrink down quickly so that the person approaching could deactivate the thing, and thus BECOME HAPPY? (THE REASON THIS DOES NOT WORK: Again, you also need to shrink for the Armos, so why would Mazaal have the beam, but not the Armos?) The more I think about this, the less sense it makes! ...And if the constructors were already small, why would you even need the "shrinking beam" at all...?

6. Why did the Wind Tribe fly off with the Wind Element, but leave Mazaal behind? Ditto for leaving behind the Armos. Again, this one has a stupid possible answer: Mazaal and company were replaced by all the Gyorg! The Figurine for the Gyorg Pair mentions that "females are larger than males"... PLURAL. Meaning that there's more Gyorg out there to be found! On top of this, the Figurine also mentions that Gyorg "prey on adventurers", so WHAT IF the Wind Tribe brought them all in to PURPOSEFULLY protect the Palace of Winds, and by extension, the Wind Element?

7. Why didn't the Wind Tribe have Mazaal, or at least a second Mazaal, to protect the Wind Element up on the Cloud Tops? To reference Question Six above, why entrust your special, mystical artifact to a bunch of aggressive fish? What would the Wind Tribe do if the Gyorg suddenly decided to disobey orders? Why not, oh, I don't know, have an AUTOMATON SPECIALLY DESIGNED TO PROTECT STUFF PROTECT YOUR PRECIOUS ELEMENT?! They left it behind to protect the Wind Ruins down on the surface, yes, but why go alone to the Cloud Tops? Maybe the Wind Tribe DIDN'T build Mazaal, and it REALLY WAS the Minish? And because there are no Minish on the Cloud Tops, there is no second Mazaal? So, why didn't the Minish help them? The leader Siroc mentions that "surface dwellers" aren't allowed in the Palace of Winds, but... The Minish were mentioned to have descended FROM THE SKY to help the Hero of Men at the beginning... So there is no excuse here...

8. Who NAMED Mazaal? The reason I even ask this is simple: if the Wind Tribe named it, that's cool. Whatever. But if the MINISH named it, then WHY is the name so similar to Vaati's, with the DOUBLE-As?! Are "double-A" names just "windy-themed" in this universe?

But, speaking of windy-themed and Vaati... All of the Wind-themed Palaces... The two Palaces of Winds and Vaati's Palace... Here's why I don't think any of the three are the same place.

First, the Wind Tribe's Palace of Winds has to be accessed by a Vortex. The OTHER Palace of Winds must be accessed by the Tower of Winds. And Vaati's Palace is accessed by getting three keys from three different Great Fairies.

Second, the Wind Tribe's Palace of Winds doesn't usually allow surface dwellers in. The OTHER Palace of Winds does. And there is no such rule mentioned for Vaati's Palace, either.

Third, the Wind Tribe's Palace of Winds has several spots that can only be described as "cloud floors". The other two do not.

So, unless Vaati- who has proven himself to be a person with a dubious grasp on patience at best- miraculously loved redecorating, those three are NOT the same place. (I just never particularly liked the idea of all three of them being the same. I like the idea of Vaati being so petty that he just builds a palace for himself and steals the name of another place for it).

It just fits Vaati to have his own place. I mean, it was his OWN. Finally, something of his own... Something he actually did not have to steal...

#the bard of light rants #vaati #minish cap #the minish cap #the legend of zelda #theory series the odd headcanons of vaati #wind tribe #minish

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falling--in--place · 6 years

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Original Fic Fest: Day 1

It’s here! Day one is all about characters! Another thank you to @originalficfest for creating this platform! I’m probably going to spend this evening getting obsessed with other peoples OC’s!

Ok! Onto mine! I decided to take a slightly different approach than what this post mentioned. Everything I could think to write separately sounded amazing until I realized it compromised some aspect of the plot. For this book, I’m giving out information and back stories in a very controlled manor. So maybe some of these ideas the prompt gave me will get written and released much later. Anyway! Below is slightly better look at my OC’s from Rage than I gave on my WIP page:

Vanessa- She is greatly inspired by some of my favorite things in life. Vanessa is who I would love to become. She is blunt, sarcastic, aggressive, protective, loyal, and can of course hurl fireballs at people that piss her off. If only I could learn to do that last part… I didn’t write her specifically to fit the lovable asshole trope, but she does fit it in some ways. She has a very dry sense of humor, and has mastered the deadpan delivery. She self-describes as bitchy. To her (and to me) it’s a good thing. It’s a badass thing. It’s something to be proud of. Her past is something she doesn’t talk about much, but it will surface a few times throughout Rage and the rest of the series. She was abandoned as an infant. She met James in the orphanage they were dumped at. A lot of her aggressive tendencies developed as a means of survival. At 12, she and James ran away from the orphanage to try and find a better life. For her, that meant hardening herself to the world. Taking charge of it. Making sure she was never in a vulnerable position again. She had love once, but it didn’t work out in a spectacularly awful way. She closed herself off to that too. She does want to make the world a better place, but she doesn’t talk about it. I wouldn’t advise bringing it up either (unless you’re James).

James- I had this vision in my head when I came up with James and Vanessa. This almost perfect yin and yang thing. I didn’t know how or why, but I just knew how they would interact with each other. The backstory formed almost flawlessly and it made sense. James is the calm to Vanessa’s storm. He is patient, thoughtful, deliberate, and reserved. They are soul mates in the truest sense. James also doesn’t like to talk about the past, but he will with people he trusts. Gus, Cassidy, and Thomas learned of both his and Vanessa’s history through James. While they were both dumped in the same orphanage, raised by the same uncaring guardians, and both took the streets together, James doesn’t see it the same way Vanessa does. He was always a little more cautious, but watching Vanessa charge in to all situations without a second thought made him more so. He took to protecting her the best way he knew how: backup/escape plans. She jumped into the middle of danger to protect him, he found a safe exit for them both while she kept all attention on her. He wouldn’t let the world harden him though. He wants to see the beauty in life. He wants to save the world and it’s afraid to announce to anyone. He’s very overt about wanting to rescue anyone from the past he and Vanessa shared.

Cassidy- When I started this book I didn’t intend to keep her and Gus around as regular important characters. Shows me what I know… Cassidy is a sweet lady. She will help anyone that appreciates it. She loves the world as a whole and sees all it could turn into. She is a bit of dreamer, but she knows it. She sees all the bad stuff too. She just chooses not to dwell on it. Her past with Gus and how they met Vanessa is going to get air time with this series (I just don’t know when) so I’m only going to touch on it briefly. She had been a part of one of the leading fairy families. Part of her job was to keep the witches off balance. Tensions between the two magic wielding races had always been high, but for the leading families it was even more so. It was always a battle for whose magic was more valuable. Then a boy tried to get her attention as he rode by on horseback. He wasn’t paying attention and his head slammed into a sign, knocking him off his horse. (I know it sounds very Romeo and Juliet, it isn’t quite though).

Gus- He was of course the guy on horseback. He didn’t even know she was a fairy at first glance, just that she was beautiful. He wasn’t a member of one of the leading witch families, he just worked for one of them. He was accustomed to hard work, and even with magic he had calloused hands. Much of his magic was used up during the day at the Academy training for combat, so at work he just used his hands. He is a very down to earth guy that places very little value in expensive things. Woodworking is one of his favorite hobbies, and even though he has magic to spare nowadays, he still uses his hands to carve everything from figurines to statues.

Thomas- Ah, Thomas is my redemption story. When he met James and Vanessa for the first time he was a self-absorbed asshole. Their first encounter lead to a lot of yelling and Vanessa wanting to kill him, just a little bit. The change that swept through him happened mostly before this books starts, but he still has some of those moments. Vanessa still wants to kill him sometimes. I plan to tell Thomas’s story in full at some point too. (I have A LOT of plans…) He works at a bank managing major accounts. He has a lot of powerful contacts, most of them legit, but some are a little shadier. He almost never uses his clout to pull in favors anymore. Something that used to give him a pretty bad reputation. He is now pretty well respected. That he is living with and in love with James only helped his case. Every one that knows James thinks he’s the greatest. Having James care about you boosted your credibility dramatically.

Nic- I’m kind of excited about this one. I haven’t talked much about Nic anywhere yet. He doesn’t come into play until like 100 pages into the book, but he’s going to be pretty fantastic. As a powerful Were alpha, he pretty much always gets what he wants. Then he met Vanessa. He is both amused and infuriated by her. She defies all of his instincts. She doesn’t defer to him. She doesn’t require protection. She is downright disrespectful when she feels like it. She’s funny though, and it’s kind of nice to see someone step into Were politics and not need their hand held. The two of them are like any one of these death defying rollercoasters. Ups and Downs, breakneck speeds, sharp corners, but ending in a massive freefall with hopes the parachute works. James and Vanessa complement each other in almost every way with a defined give and take. Nic and Vanessa… they collide and challenge each other constantly. Their banter is so much fun to write!

Those are all the characters I am going to do for now (ended up WAY longer than I thought it would)! For more information on my characters or the story they are a part of, head over to my WIP page!

#originalficfest #writeblr #writing #writers #justified #rage #rage wip #wip #vanessa #james #gus #cassidy #thomas #nic #day one: characters

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matchaball · 6 years

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parallel lines

AN: Hello hello @convenientalias !! I am your secret santa this year! :D I saw that you particularly like canon-divergent fics and decided to go off on that and do a slow reveal between these dorks :') Hope you enjoy, and Merry Christmas!

Giant thanks to @mlsecretsanta for organizing this enormous event!

EDIT: I also must thank @ming85 5 billion times over for helping me out with this fic and for kicking my writer’s block square in the butt. You’re a star!! <3

( AO3 )

1. they say, seeing is believing.

“Could you pass me the icing please?”

Adrien bends down close, melding his personal space with hers, but Marinette leans into it and hands him the bag of icing sugar lying beside the gingerbread house she’s decorating. Another time, she would have blushed uncontrollably at the way her fingers brush his, and she would have thought of literally nothing else for the next few glorious days moments.

Instead, she has to do everything in her power to not drop her gaze to where the breast pocket of his jacket lies beneath his apron. She can see the slight bump in the fabric anyway, out of the corner of her eye.

She’s seen him. The kwami.

The black cat kwami.

(She could’ve chalked up Adrien walking out of the same alleyway she saw Chat duck into after a particular harrowing akuma attack as a funny coincidence, but then the punchline came zooming out of his jacket pocket demanding cheese, and she knew.)

Which means…

Instead of decorating, Marinette leans back a little and openly watches Adrien as he concentrates on piping eyes and a mouth on the little fondant figure he’s sculpted. His tongue sticks out just the littlest bit, and his tousled hair glitters with the sugar that exploded over him from Tom greeting him with a great bear hug earlier.

It’s as subtle as a shift of light, but now that she knows what to look for, it’s as clear as day and night.

She sees Chat as clearly as she sees Adrien.

His eyes focus entirely on the task at hand, but her gaze seems to nudge at him until he looks up at her.

Marinette’s breath catches in her throat as those brilliant green eyes blink slowly at her.

(She wonders if she could make him purr.)

“Am I doing this right?” Adrien asks, a shy, uncertain smile growing on his face in light of her unwavering stare.

Another time, Marinette would have babbled to the ends of the earth to assure him he’s doing grape- no, gorgeous- no, great, and she likely would’ve knocked everything off the table in the process. But the bump in his jacket pocket is there, and he looks far too reserved for the friend, and partner, and so much more that she knows him to be to her so-

“It’s purr-fect,” Marinette declares, winking as she taps his nose. Like flicking a switch, Adrien’s face lights up with a familiar mischievous grin.

“It is, isn’t it,” he agrees with exaggerated pride as he holds up his handwork. One eye is smudged and the smile wobbles on one end, but the iced blue pigtails and pretty pink fondant outfit makes it undeniably Marinette. “I’m sure you could get bread-er if you didn’t loaf around so much.”

“Oh, you don’t want to start that with me,” Marinette smirks. “At the very yeast, save yourself or else you’ll be toast.”

Laughter blooms from her chest, as light and airy as cotton candy, and it grows ever bigger as Adrien seems to do a double take at the easy way she volleys puns back at him. He flounders for a moment, clearly teetering between bemusement and delight before relaxing into an easy smile she’s seen hundreds of times, framed in black leather and shared high up among the rooftops.

“Well,” Adrien sighs theatrically, “I guess that’s just the way the cookie crumbles then.”

Marinette’s hand instinctively stutters to her hip, her fingers searching for the tiny purse that cradles Tikki. Her too-loud laugh hastens to cover her transition to grabbing a fistful of chocolate chips on the table.

“Careful what you wish for!” Marinette teases.

It takes a second for Adrien to realize what she means, but a second is all she needs to launch said chocolate chips at him. Glee lances through his eyes before he lunges forward, mouth open and aimed at the delicious projectiles. A few bounce off his face, and more evade him still as they fly to land softly in his hair.

She flicks one more. He goes cross-eyed in his attempt to catch it- and luck lands it squarely on his waiting tongue.

They both freeze, absolute surprise mirroring across both their faces, before Marinette breaks it with a cheer. Adrien fist pumps into a dramatic victory pose and it’s pure Chat, through and through. Her willpower pushes down the natural instinct to fistbump him, and she settles for grinning broadly at him instead, sharing in the victory.

“That’s definitely my hardest accomplishment of the day,” Adrien laughs, his cheek puffing out as he sticks the chocolate chip to the side to suck on.

“Sculpting me definitely didn’t take you all day and was the easiest then, wasn’t it.”

“Piece of cake,” Adrien grins. “Actually more like, the icing on top of the cake.”

He gestures to the magnificent gingerbread house taking up most of the kitchen table. Its candy cane balcony and translucent sugar glass storefront windows makes it a close replica to the bakery and her home.

“I think the house is pretty much decorated,” Marinette decides, tilting her head in thought.

“Not quite,” Adrien insists. He hunches over his work and concentrates on adding the finishing touches, before straightening up and gently, carefully placing his little fondant figure up on the balcony. Fondant Marinette beams up at them with her icing sugar smile and glittering sprinkle eyes, perfectly framed by the gumdrop fairy lights strung along the gingerbread rooftop.

It’s technically complete, and yet…

“It’s missing one more thing,” Marinette declares. She scoops up some leftover fondant and briskly, expertly moulds them into the exact shape she wants. Her fingers fly as they collect icing sugar and sprinkles for decoration, and several heartbeats later, her creation comes to life between her hands.

She hesitates, then settles the little black cat next to her own sugar figurine on the balcony.

“There,” Marinette says, softly. “Done.”

A part of her, the cautious, logical part, clambers immediately for her to rewind and redo, because this felt about as subtle as a brick, but the larger part of her, the braver, curious part, looks up, and watches.

She spots the breath that catches in Adrien’s throat for just that split second, spots the bump in his breast pocket shift ever so slightly, and she wonders briefly if his heart is beating as fast as hers. He turns to look at her, green eyes focused thoughtfully, intensely on the open book of her face, reading between the lines. He looks for an answer she’s not sure she can give.

It’s a look Marinette’s seen before, when her Lucky Charm is cradled between her palms like a giant question mark waiting to be solved.

There’s always a split second, a terrifying, infinitely long second, where she’s not sure if she can do this- be the person with the answers, be the infallible superhero, be Ladybug. The fear is irrational, she knows that- and yet no matter how often the fear comes to seek the cracks in her confidence, it never lingers.

“Less a house now, I think,” Adrien says, a smile curling up to warm his expression into something soft, something hopeful, “and more a home.”

He sees her, and she believes.

2. they say, believing is knowing.

Believing was never the problem, with Adrien.

It just happens to fall into his particular blend of trust and optimism. Why wouldn’t he believe that Hawkmoth will be defeated, that that they could have a white Christmas, that Plagg could potentially eat something other than Camembert?

Call him romantic, or foolish, or naive, but he likes to hope. And no matter how tiny the hope, he holds on and doesn’t let go.

Except he might have slightly miscalculated how much holding onto this particular hope could cost him.

“Get out of the way, GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Marinette screams as she rockets towards him, arms flung out in a desperately futile attempt to balance herself. Her skates knife across the clear ice as she accelerates towards him like a furious, pink torpedo.

Adrien gracefully glides out of her path and snags her arm as she zooms by. She swings around his pivot like a yoyo until she’s safely reeled in and stopped within the bracket of his arms.

“This looks like the opposite of getting out of my way,” Marinette muffles into the blue of his scarf.

“You’re welcome,” Adrien laughs. He carefully moves back, never letting go of her mittened hands. “Ready to try again?”

A fierce, determined look flashes through Marinette’s eyes, and at her decisive nod, Adrien slowly begins skating backwards. Their linked hands tug Marinette forwards, and soon she’s wobbling along as he guides her across the rink.

It’s funny, how flipping across the rooftops of Paris as Ladybug is as natural as breathing, yet a simple layer of ice proves to be her ultimate downfall. It’s funny, how she can nail a pinpoint landing onto her balcony for a detransformation that he accidentally spots, yet the simple act of even turning her skates proves impossible without his help.

Adrien’s fingers tighten protectively, possessively over Marinette’s, and his heart is the one stuttering and tripping as Marinette glances up at him, cheeks pink from the cold, blue eyes sparkling from the lights strung around the rink, mouth stretched wide in a grin as they complete a full circuit without stumbling once.

Honestly, it’s a miracle he can still function around her now.

“Ok… I think I’m getting the hang of this,” Marinette says slowly as they begin to circle around once more. Her fingers squeeze his, then begins to untangle from his grasp.

“Are you sure?” Adrien asks, reluctant to let go.

“Yes,” she answers. A pause, then, “Maybe. Stay close… just in case.”

A worried knot within Adrien’s chest loosens at that, and this time he can let her go. He gracefully turns himself around so he’s by her side, and adjusts his pace to match hers. It takes a few minutes, but soon enough they’re mirroring each other, stroke by stroke across the glittering ice.

“Not bad, for someone who hasn’t skated since she was three,” Adrien teases as they maneuver around a pileup of kids and their pylon cones.

“I can start just fine,” Marinette protests. “Stopping…”

The mere thought has her wobbling dangerously for a heart-stopping moment. Adrien reacts before he can think, his hands shooting out to steady her to him. He doesn’t miss the way Marinette’s hands fly to the pocket of her peacoat, and he has to resist his curiosity to ask about her kwami.

“You’re gonna need steel-toed skates at this rate,” Marinette grumbles as she rights herself.

Adrien stumbles and covers it up with a loud laugh, because oh, the irony.

“I’ll wear them next time,” he promises with a wink, “just for you.”

Princess almost escapes at the tail end of his sentence but he catches himself just in time. The word lingers in his mouth, sweet as sugar, but a pause still seems to bubble up anyway in lieu of the endearment.

Marinette merely reaches up and taps his nose fondly. “Silly, they’re protection for you. It’d be just my luck if I skated over your toes or something equally horrifying.”

“Sounds more like my kind of luck,” Adrien chuckles, feeling Plagg shift in his pocket.

“Maybe we’ll find a balance, between the both of us,” Marinette laughs. Her skates catch upon a patch of rough ice and she lurches forward with a, “Oh n-”

“-ope, not today!” Adrien finishes as he catches her yet again and steadies her until she’s solidly upright. He laughs, long and loud, as she puffs her cheeks at him, amusement and exasperation mingling in her eyes. “Looks like we already balance each other out.”

“You’re being way too nice,” Marinette huffs. “I haven’t done anything except almost take you and everyone else out the whole time we’ve been out here.”

“You’re dazzling,” he counters confidently. The sentiment comes out a little more honest, a little more heartfelt than he’d intended, and Marinette’s cheeks go pink right alongside his at the compliment.

“...sounds like a challenge,” Marinette comments after a moment. The smile she sends him is pure Ladybug, confident and daring.

The grin he sends back is all Chat, with mischief curled in the corners. “Only if you can keep up.”

“Keep up?” Marinette laughs, tossing her head back. “You’re on.”

She digs her skates in, and flies, blowing right past awkward fumbling and into breathtaking speed. Adrien whoops as he pushes off after her. The wind whips by his cheeks and playfully ruffles his hair as they chase each other around and around, a dance they’ve done dozens, hundreds of times up among the rooftops and framed against the endless sky.

“You’re a natural!” Adrien laughs breathlessly as Marinette glides to a slow, panting stop.

“It’s easier when I’m with you,” Marinette grins. She shrieks as he pulls up next to her with a hard stop that sends ice shavings flying in a spray of glittering white. They catch the light, turning into wings, into butterflies, that perfectly frame the way her laugh rings through the air.

It’s such a little snapshot of a moment, but it’s extraordinary in that it’s theirs.

Adrien’s always believed in Ladybug, but believing in her twice- loving her twice- makes him know.

Marinette is better than hope; she is real.

3. they say...

“I thought we said no presents this year,” Ladybug says, eyeing the bright pink package held between Chat’s hands.

“We did,” Chat nodded blithely as he gestured to the sky blue bag dangling from Ladybug’s fingertips. “Clearly we’re both great at following rules.”

They only ever had one hard rule though- and evidently that had been too difficult to follow as well.

“Well,” Ladybug chuckles as she sits down at the edge of the rooftop and pats the space next to her for him. “At least we’re on the same page.”

“Always, My Lady,” Chat grins as he folds himself down next to her.

They sit in peaceful silence, enjoying the lingering smell of chestnuts and hot chocolate from the markets that were open earlier. Fairy lights still twinkle through the streets, illuminating the few couples and families out for a late night walk in the scant snow dusting the ground.

“Here,” Chat says softly as he nudges the pink box over. “Merry Christmas Bugaboo.”

“Merry Christmas Chat,” she smiles as she passes him her bag. “Are we opening them now?”

“Why not?”

For such a light suggestion, the air between them feels a little heavier, a little more loaded as they open their gifts.

Ladybug gasps in delight as a soft pink scarf winds around her hands. She immediately wraps it around her neck, sighing blissfully as the plush wool curls against her skin. It’s handmade: her fingers find the sporadic gaps and occasional lump in the scarf, finds the time and love infused in each stitch. She looks up to thank him when her hands find a little surprise.

At one end of the scarf is a small pocket. Not quite big enough for a pair of gloves, not quite small enough for anything better off in her purse.

But a perfect size for a kwami.

Paranoia freezes her on the spot, holds her thanks captive in her mouth, so she is utterly silent as she simply watches him unwrap his gift.

Chat makes quick work of the tissue paper stuffed in the bag, and draws out a sky blue beanie. He doesn’t need his night vision to see that the beanie is made from the same yarn his scarf is made out of, the scarf gifted to him on his birthday, allegedly by his father.

He knows better now; the carefully stitched signature at the edge of the scarf that he found shortly after receiving it tells him several truths. It’s Marinette, who made him the scarf, who made him feel remembered and welcomed and loved. It’s Marinette, who’s always been there for him, always.

The beanie rests carefully in his clawed hands, and he turns it over and over until the light gilds the fine thread stitching a tiny signature along the inside edge.

He looks up at her, a question in his eyes, and sees it mirrored in hers.

Do you know?

A breathless, weightless heartbeat passes and neither one of them moves first.

“I saw you.”

The words rush out of out Ladybug’s mouth and drops between them like a gauntlet. At Chat’s startled, wide-eyed look, she swallows and commits.

“I saw you,” she whispers, and the emphasis leaves no room as to what she means.

Chat’s ears prick forwards and he scoots closer to her, a gentle smile curling on his face in contrast to the tense furrow of disbelief wrinkling Ladybug’s brow. He picks up her challenge and turns it into an invitation.

“I had hoped it was you,” he admits, as openly honest as he can be in this strange teetering space they find themselves in. “Of everyone I know, I had hoped Ladybug would be you. You’re confident and so capable and so easy to love. I really do think you’re dazzling, with and without your Ladybug powers.”

“I don’t know how I thought you could be anyone else,” Ladybug whispers. The tension in her shoulders begins to unwind at his honesty, at his softness. “You’re always so kind. Talking to the akuma victims after we defeat them. Offering your umbrella to someone who snubbed you the whole day. Your heart’s always been the same.”

“My heart’s always been yours, my lady,” Chat murmurs. He takes a breath, and falls first. “Princess. Marinette.”

“Kitty,” she says, softly. Logic has her hesitating, but it’s the look in Chat’s eyes that has her falling after him. “Adrien.”

The revelation stuns them both into silence, but as a shy smile grows on Chat’s face, a similar one mirrors across Ladybug. They break out into nervous giggles, smoothing out into a familiar, comfortable ease.

“So where do we go from here?” Chat asks.

“Let’s… not go anywhere,” Ladybug decides, slowly. “There’s no rush, right?”

“No rush, no pressure,” Chat agrees as he tugs his beanie over his head. His cat ears poke up into the soft fabric, making the fit a little odd, but he beams so delightedly that it looks perfect anyway. “We have all the time in the world.”

Relief settles onto Ladybug’s shoulders, but she shouldn’t be surprised. In anything, everything, she’s never had to handle anything truly by herself. She’s never been alone.

She shifts until she can rest her head on his shoulder, and sighs softly as he wraps an arm around her waist, his head coming to rest on top of hers. They breathe, and accept, and hold on to each other as peace comes to blanket warmly over them.

To see, to believe, to know, has nothing on love.

“Hey,” Ladybug murmurs, “I’m glad it’s you.”

Chat chuckles, and turns to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”

#mlfanfiction #miraculous ladybug #adrinette #ladynoir #mlsecretsanta 2k17 #convenientalias #fanfiction #matcha writes #sorry if this doesn't exactly fall under canon-divergent!#i wasn't exactly sure what that meant (still a little uncertain tbh haha) but i hope you enjoy this anyway!#thanks for reading and happy holidays! <3 #edit: i posted this in a rush last night and woke up and instantly went ''I KNEW I FORGOT SOMETHING''#thank you again ming!!! <3333

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mostlysignssomeportents · 6 years

Text

How to play Dungeons and Dragons with your toddler

My daughter Poesy is only four years old, and she can’t read or do complex sums yet, so when I decided to start playing D&D with her, I knew I’d need to come up with a super-streamlined set of rules that could hold her attention and enable the kind of imaginative play she excels at already.

Poesy loves to roleplay. Give her a couple of stuffed toys or figurines of any description and she’ll invent complex scenarios for them, roping in any handy and willing grownups to play opposite her characters, sometimes demanding that we come up with our own scenarios to play out. I’d intuited that this wasn’t so different from the D&D games I grew up playing – though I’d been numerate and literate for some years before I started.

I happened upon a set of factory-painted plastic D&D minis while looking for a toy to bring home in the dealer’s room at a regional science fiction convention in Chicago. After marveling at the astounding advances in robotic toy-painting, I had a brain-flash. A minute later, I’d bought a handsome dice-bag and filled it with a dozen assorted figs and a set of polyhedral dice.

After I got home to London, I performed the ancient ritual of unpacking the souvenirs I’d brought home for the kid. As I’d hoped, she was captivated by the intricate painting on the figs and the jewel-like facets of the dice, and demanded that we play right now.

Poesy has a piggy bank full of the small change she’s picked up or appropriated from us over the years, and I dumped it out and sorted out the different denominations. Once that was done, I used our Ikea playmat (which has a street-scape laid out on it), some cushions, a shoebox, and a cardboard doll-castle to set up a town, a cave, and a castle.

I put all the “bad-guy” minis on strategic spots on the castle, and stuck one of Poesy’s stuffed toys – a winged hamster she calls “Fairy Hamster” – in the middle of its courtyard. I gave her two minis to play, and set them down on the playmat’s ice-cream parlor, declaring this to be the “tavern.” I put two more bad-ass-looking figs next to them, and declared them to be my NPCs.

I improvised a very quick background. My NPCs are in the tavern, planning to rescue their friend the Fairy Hamster, who is being held hostage in Castle Doom. Did Poesy’s characters want to help? They sure did!

I rolled up the mat while talking about the party’s long walk in the woods, then set out the party’s figs in the vicinity of the “cave,” (the shoebox) on the “hill” (the cushion). My NPCs made some suggestions for besieging the castle. I had an archer and a magic-user (M-U), and Poesy had a fighter and a magic-user of her own. We brainstormed out a mix of ranged attacks and melee, and went to town.

I gave the party the initiative for the first turn. Poesy rolled dice for movement for each of her characters. The elf magic-user got a d6, the armored fighter got a d4, the totals corresponding to the distance in inches on our living-room floor (we used a tape-measure). Poesy didn’t get immediately that this meant that on average the M-U was going to be faster than the fighter, but she caught on very quickly.

Once the party got in range of the castle’s defenders, we started combat. Each party-member paired with a defender and launched an attack. The M-Us got to choose between magic missile and fireball. I explained that magic missile was harder to hit with, but did more damage than fireball. We used a D20, and I required Poesy to roll higher than the number of inches between her fig and the defender she was aiming for for fireball. For magic missile, we used the same system, but subtracted two from her roll (this being the most complex subtraction she can do in her head).

The first time any of the characters got hit, we generated their hit-points (in other words, we rolled the characters’ stats as they were required, rather than rolling them in advance). I wanted Poesy to be able to keep track of the hit-points herself, which let out pen and paper scorekeeping. Instead, we rolled a d8 for each character’s hit-points, and took that many coins out of her piggy-bank and stacked them up next to each mini. When characters sustained damage (a d4 for fireball, a d6 for magic missile or arrow, a d8 for a sword), Poesy took that many coins out of each character’s pile. By varying the type of coin we used for each character – one got pennies, another was marked with 2p pieces, or 5p or 10p, etc) – we made it easy to sort out whose HPs were who’s when they were (inevitably) knocked over. I decreed that all the magic users could cast healing spells instead of attacks, each doing 1d4’s worth of restoration.

So, this turned out to be a lot of fun. The longer we played, the more we improvised. At one point, I grabbed a glass sphere sculpture from a shelf and told Poesy it was a “crystal ball” that the M-U could use to direct the archer’s arrows, skipping an attack to give the archer an automatic hit. Poesy loved this, and really got into the roleplaying, “coming to the rescue” of other characters by healing them or helping them with aimhacks. By the time we’d liberated the Fairy Hamster, she was hooked.

We continue to play, about once a month, always with a different campaign improvised from whatever is lying around at the time. By getting straight into the story and going quickly to the combat (or trap-springing, puzzle-solving, or what-have-you), and by saving the character-rolling until it’s needed, I’m able to tailor the experience to the attention-span of a four-year-old. Our games last about 45 minutes, and they’re very kinetic, with a lot of jumping around, crawling on the floor, and so on.

She’s recently leveled up in the drawing and coloring department, so my next project will be to get her started on miniatures painting. I imagine that our games will be that much more fun once she’s playing characters she “made” herself.

In the meantime, we’ve got another activity in our daddy-daughter repertoire, a nice break from playing “school” and the other “realistic” imaginative games we usually play. There’s certainly also some sneaky basic math skills acquisition going on too, but that’s beside the point: we play for fun, and Poesy would spot it a mile away if I switched to a game that was “good for her.”

How to DM for your toddler — the rules of Cory’s game

You will need:

A set of polyhedral dice

A decent-sized pile of coins, of various denomination

Absolutely any props, figures, or toys you like. Setting up your scene is half the fun.

Initiative:

Let your child go first.

It’s always good to see a child show some initiative.

Turns:

Each character can move, attack, or cast a spell during their turn.

Movement:

If any character chooses to move during their turn, roll the appropriate die (1d4 for a fighter, archer, or monster; 1d6 for a magic-user) at the beginning of the turn.

The number rolled is how far that character can move, in inches, during that turn.

Hit points (HP):

HP are determined the first time a character or monster is hit. Roll 1d8 to determine HP, and place a stack of coins corresponding to the die roll next to that mini.

Use different denominations to help track which hit points belong to which character or monster.

As each character’s hit points are lost, keep the coins representing lost hit points next to the mini, in case a heal spell is cast on the character later.

To hit:

Fighters must be within 1” to attack, and hit automatically.

Archers and magic-users roll 1d20 to hit. The roll needed to hit is equal to the distance in inches. (The magic-user spell magic missile has a –2 penalty to hit.)

Weapons:

Arrow: 1d6 damage; range 20” max

Sword: 1d8 damage, range 1”

Monsters:

Use your imagination, and let the baddies be any type of monster or human(oid) you have toys or miniatures to represent.

You can choose to give them similar abilities to your PCs and NPCs, or perhaps your child will invent a few you hadn’t considered.

Monsters cannot be healed.

Characters:

Fighter

Move: 1d4” per turn

Hit dice: 1d8

Attack: Sword

Archer

Move: 1d4” per turn

Hit dice: 1d8

Attack: Arrow

Magic-User

Move: 1d6” per turn

Hit dice: 1d8

Spell list:

Accurate Arrow

Range: 20”

Duration: 1 turn

Casting accurate arrow on an archer guarantees the archer’s next attack will hit.

Magic Missile

Range: 20”

Damage: 1d6

To-hit: 1d20 –2 vs. distance (natural 20 hits automatically)

This spell is similar to an archer’s arrow, and requires a “to hit” roll.

Fireball

Range: 20”

Damage: 1d4

To hit: 1d20 vs. distance (natural 20 hits automatically)

Heal

Range: Unlimited

The magic-user may choose to heal any character for 1d4 hit points.

Characters may be healed at any time, even if they have reached zero hit points. There is no time limit on healing fallen characters.

http://gygaxmagazine.com/selected-content/dming-for-your-toddler/

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