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lochtayboatsong · 3 years

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The Jesus Christ Superstar essay absolutely no one asked for.

Last weekend, I watched the pro-shot of the 2012 arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar starring Ben Forster, Tim Minchin, and Melanie C, because it was Easter and it was up on YT for the weekend. I never managed to do my annual listen-through of Leonard Bernstein’s Mass this year, as is my usual Easter tradition, so I figured “Why not watch/listen to this instead?” It was my first time seeing and hearing JCS in full, and Y’ALL, it has been living rent-free in my brain ever since. I have a mighty need to get my thoughts out, so here they are, in chronological order by song.

1) Prologue: I love the way JCS 2012 makes use of the arena video screen. The production design and concept clearly took a lot of inspiration from the “Occupy ______” movement, which makes it feel a bit dated now. But every single production of JCS is a product of its time period, so this is a feature and not a bug.

2) Heaven On Their Minds: This is a straight-up rock song. It wouldn’t be out of place on any rock and roll album released between 1970 and 2021, and it boggles my mind that Webber and Rice were both in their early twenties when they wrote it. Also, the lyric “You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say” hits hard no matter the year.

3) What’s the Buzz: A+ use of the arena screens again, this time bringing in social media to set the tone. Also, this song establishes right from the outset that Jesus is burnt out and T I R E D by this point in the story. Seriously, can we just let this man have a nap?

4) Strange Thing Mystifying: Judas publicly calls out Mary and Jesus claps back. Folx, get you a partner who will defend your honor the way Jesus defends MM in this scene. Also Jesus loses his shoes and is mostly barefoot for the remainder of the show.

5) Everything’s Alright: Okay, this is one of the songs I have A LOT to say about. First, it’s important to know that I was a church musician throughout all of my adolescence and into my early adulthood. The pianist at the services I usually played at was a top-notch jazz pianist, and also my piano teacher for about six years while I as in high school and undergrad. (Incidentally, I had a HUGE crush on his son, who was/is a jazz saxophonist and clarinetist and also played in the church band, but that’s a story for another day.) One of the hymns we played a few times a year was called “Sing of the Lord’s Goodness,” which is notable for being in 5/4 time. Whenever this hymn was on the schedule, it was usually the recessional, or the last song played as the clergy processed out and the congregation got ready to leave, so we were able to have some fun with it. After a couple verses the piano player and his son would usually morph it into “Take Five,” a famous jazz standard by Dave Brubeck which is also in 5/4 time. Anyway, the first time I listened to this song in full, it got to Judas’s line “People who are hungry, people who are starving,” and I sat bolt upright and went “HOLY SHIT THIS IS ‘SING OF THE LORD’S GOODNESS/TAKE FIVE.’” And I was ricocheted back in time to being fourteen and trying to keep up with this father/son duo in a cavernous Catholic church while simultaneously making heart-eyes at the son. Final note: This is the only song in the musical to feature all three leads (Jesus, Judas, and Mary Magdalene) and is mostly Jesus and MM being soft with each other in between bouts of Jesus and Judas snarling at one another.

6) This Jesus Must Die: I LOVE that all the villains in this production are in tailored suits. LOVE IT. Also, Caiaphas and Annas are a comedy duo akin to “the thin guy and the fat guy,” except in this case it’s “the low basso profundo and the high tenor.” Excellent use of the arena video screen again, this time as CCTV.

7) Hosanna: My background as a church musician strikes back again. It honestly took me two or three listens to catch it, but then I had another moment of sitting bolt upright and going “HOLY SHIT THIS IS A PSALM.” Psalms sung in church usually take the form of call-and-response, with a cantor singing the verses and the congregation joining in for the chorus. If I close my eyes during this song, I have no trouble imagining Jesus as a church cantor singing the verses and then bringing the congregation in for the “Ho-sanna, Hey-sanna” chorus.

8) Simon Zealotes: This is part “Gloria In Excelsis” and part over-the-top Gospel song. Honestly it’s not my favorite, but it marks an important mood change in the show. The end of “Hosanna” is probably Jesus at his happiest in the entire show, and then Simon comes in and sours the mood by trying to tip the triumphant moment into a violent one. Jesus is not truly happy again from this moment on.

9) Poor Jerusalem: Also not my fave. It kinda reads like Webber and Rice realized that Jesus didn’t have a solo aria in Act I, so they came up with this. But it has the distinction of containing the lyric, “To conquer death you only have to die,” which is the biggest overarching theme of the story.

10) Pilate’s Dream: Pontius Pilate might be the most underrated role in this entire show, and I love that this production has him singing this song while being dressed in judge’s robes.

11) The Temple: The first half of this is one of the campiest numbers in Act I, at least in this production, and it’s awesome. The second half is one of the saddest, as Jesus tries to heal the sick but finds there are too many of them. Also the whole scene is almost entirely in 7/8 time, which I think is just cool.

12) I Don’t Know How To Love Him: Mary Magdalene’s big aria, and one of the songs I knew prior to seeing the full-length show. This production has MM taking off her heavy lipstick and eye makeup onstage, mid-song, which is kind of cool. Melanie C says in a BTS interview that MM’s makeup is her armor, so this is a Big Symbolic Moment.

13) Damned For All Time: The scene transition into this song is played entirely in pantomime, and I love it. The solo guitarist gets to be onstage for a bit, A+ use of the video screen again to show Judas on CCTV, etc. Love it. And then this song is Judas frantically rationalizing what he’s doing, and what he’s about to do, with Caiphas and Annas just reacting with raised eyebrows and knowing looks.

14) Blood Money: This is where the tone of the show really takes a turn for the dark. I think this might be one of Tim Minchin’s finest moments as Judas, because his facial expressions and microexpressions throughout this scene speak absolute volumes. And the offstage chorus quietly singing “Well done Judas” as he picks up the money is a positively chilling way to end Act I.

15) The Last Supper: Act II begins with major “Drink With Me” vibes. (Except JCS came WAY before Les Miz, so it’s probably more accurate to say that “Drink With Me” has major “The Last Supper” vibes.) Jesus and Judas have their knock-down, drag-out fight, and it’s honestly heartbreaking, thanks again to Tim Minchin’s facial expressions. A well-done production of JCS will really convey that Jesus and Judas were once closer than brothers, even though their relationship is at breaking point when Act I begins.

16) Gethsemane: This is Jesus’s major showpiece and one of my faves. Jesus knows he has less than 24 hours to live, he knows he’s going to suffer, and worst of all, he doesn’t know whether it’s going to be worth it. It’s an emotional rollercoaster to watch and to perform, and it goes on for ages: something like 6 or 7 minutes. Fun fact: the famous G5 is not written in the score. Ian Gillan, who played Jesus on the original concept album, just sang it that way, so most subsequent Jesuses have also done it that way. Lindsay Ellis has a great supercut of this on YT. John Legend notably sang the line as written during the 2018 concert.

17) The Arrest: Judas’s Betrayer’s Kiss is played differently across different productions. The 2012 version is pretty tame - I’ve seen clips and gifs of other productions, including the 2000 direct-to-video version, where they kiss fully on the mouth and have to be dragged apart by the guards and it is THE MOST TENDER THING. Then the 7/8 riff from “The Temple” comes back and the 2012 version lets the video screen do its thing again as Jesus is swarmed by reporters.

18) Peter’s Denial: Not much to say about this one, as it’s basically a scene transition. But it’s a significant moment in the Passion story, so I’m glad they included it.

19) Pilate and Christ: The 2012 production continues with the theme of Caiaphas, Annas, and Pilate all being bougie af, since Pilate intentionally looks like he just came from tennis practice during this scene. Also he does pilates...hehehe.

20) King Herod’s Song: Tim Minchin says in a BTS interview that JCS works best when Jesus and Judas are played seriously and the rest of the production is allowed to be completely camp and wild and bizarre all around them, and he is bloody well CORRECT about that. Case in point: King Herod. There is not a single production of JCS that I know of where Herod is played “straight.” He’s been played by everyone from Alice Cooper to Jack Black, and everyone puts a different zany spin on him. In JCS 2012 he’s a chat show host in a red crushed velvet suit, who is clearly having the time of his LIFE.

21) Could We Start Again Please: This is another of my faves. Just a quiet moment where MM, Peter, and the disciples try to grapple with the fact that Jesus is arrested and things are going very, very badly. This is also my favorite Melanie C moment of the 2012 show. Her grief is very real, and the little moment she has with Peter at the end is very real.

22) Death of Judas: This is basically Tim Minchin screaming for about five minutes, and incredibly harrowing to watch on first viewing.

23) Trial Before Pilate: Possibly my single favorite scene in the entire 2012 production. This is another harrowing watch, but there’s so much to take in. The “set” that the entire show takes place on is essentially just a massive staircase, and the people with power are almost always positioned above the people without power. In this scene, the crowd shouting “Crucify Him!” is positioned above Pilate, which is a very telling clue to Pilate’s psychology during this scene. Jesus is at the very bottom of the stairs, of course. Excellent use of the video screen once again during the 39 Lashes, to show the lash marks building and building until the entire screen is a wash of red. Pilate’s counting also gets more and more frantic, especially starting around “20.” And all the while the guitar riff from “Heaven On Their Minds” is playing. Jesus’s line “Everything is fixed and you can’t change it” is played quite differently in different productions - here it’s defiant, but elsewhere (in JCS 2000 for example) it’s almost tender, like Jesus is absolving Pilate for his part in the trial. But it always ends the same - with Pilate almost screaming as he passes the sentence and “washes his hands” of the whole sorry business.

24) Superstar: The most over-the-top number in the show. Judas, who died two scenes ago, comes back to sing this. There are soul singers. There are girls in skimpy angel costumes. The parkour guys from the prologue are back. Judas pulls a tambourine out of hammerspace midway through the song. And Jesus is silently screaming and crying as he gets hoisted onto a lighting beam while all this is going on.

25) The Crucifixion: More of a spoken-word piece than a song, it’s Jesus’s final words on the cross over eerie piano music, and another harrowing watch.

26) John 19:41: An instrumental piece in which Jesus is taken from the cross and carried, at last, to the top of the stairs, before being lowered out of sight as the video screen turns into a memorial wall and everything fades to black.

So. I know I’m anywhere from three to fifty-one years late to this particular party, but I am on the JCS bandwagon now and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself. :)

#jesus christ superstar #jcs 2012 #jcs is all i have been thinking about all week sorry not sorry #ben forster #tim minchin #melanie c #andrew lloyd webber #tim rice

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mackenziebrooks23 · 4 years

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Ignite The Fire

Chapter 5- Ready To be Home

I woke up to the sunshine shining through my window. I sat up and rubbed my eyes to help me wake up more. I reached over and grabbed my phone. It had notifications from messages, Instagram, and Twitter. Everyone knew not to call me unless it was an absolute emergency. I spoke way too soon. Maryse's name came across my phone. Oh lord, what did Miz or I do? Better yet what had Miz came up with about me for Maryse to call me.

I slide the green phone icon and said" Hello?".

''So are Seth and you a thing now?"

"What The Hell are you talking about Maryse?"

"Well, Mike said he saw you two leave together and when he told me I am like no babe. Seth may have offered her a ride cause she may or may not have a ride to the hotel"

"Maryse, If we were I would have told you by now, but no we aren't a thing. Yes, that is exactly what happened. I did not have a ride to my hotel and Seth offered me a ride. Since we both were staying at the same hotel. It cost me less than getting an Uber and something happened.

"Well yeah that is true, so now I can tell Mike that I was right. I just wanted to make sure"

"Like I said I would have told you already".

"Okay well I let you go, girl, love you"

" Love you to Maryse"

I ended the call and groaned. There is no way in hell that I would be a thing with Seth Rollins. Miz knew better than to say something like that, but who knows how he was feeling. I texted him saying *Please tell me Maryse was the only said that to?*.

Miz text back saying *Yes Ryleigh, you should know that I would never do that to you. Like Maryse told me about what you said. I am glad that Seth had shown up. Because we would all feel bad if something happened to you*,

I replied to him *Okay I wanted to make sure and*. Mike was always good to me and like he said he would never do that to me. He would only tell if it was the truth. I would have told them first hand. Maybe.

I pushed the heavy ass covers off of me and got up from the bed. I put my Nike slides on, grabbed my key, and headed down to go eat breakfast. Lord, I hoped that Seth had already eaten and left. I got off the elevator and looked. So far so good about him not being there. I got what I wanted and sat down at a table. I have not seen anyone else other than Titus being here. I had just got a drink from my orange juice when Seth walked in. Great. Seth waved and went to go sit with Titus. I wondered if he kept getting a turn on. Since I was in short shorts and his Burn It Down shirt. Hey just cause I dislike him does not mean I can not wear his merchandise. It's not my fault that our superstar shirts are comfortable.

I finished my food and headed back to my room so that I could start getting my things packed. Because I had a long trip home. I put my things together and started to go back downstairs. The Uber was waiting for me and she wanted to make sure that it was me she was picking up. I told her, yes and we put my things in the trunk. I enjoyed the ride to the airport because it was quiet. Well, for the most part, the Uber driver and I made small talk. Which I enjoyed because it was someone other than the people I worked with. Won't belong and I would be back at home and talk to family and other friends. The Uber driver said" I am glad that little girls can look up to you and know that they can do anything", I spoke" I am just following my dream and they can to", as I smiled.

The Uber pulled to the airport and helped me get my things out. I said thank you and she went on her way. I pulled my bag behind me and entered the airport. I hoped that this plane ride home was not going to take forever. I also hoped that when I got home that my parents, siblings, and friend only ask about how Monday night went. Oh yeah, they love to assume that Seth and I are a thing every time I go back home to freshen up. I walked to the person to give my ticket to and she sent me on my way. It did not take long and I was sitting on the plane to go home. I had my pen and paper and I wrote down potential matches the next coming up shows. Just some ideas to let Stephanie and them go over to them. Some may work and some may not. Just have to see what they say about them.

Overall I was ready to be home. Just to relax and not think about work. Plus to get over from what Maryse told me. I probably would let my family know about it. but then again no I would not. They would go back and forth with me on do you like him or not. I get this lecture every time I come home to rest myself. Who knows maybe I will come back Monday with a new tattoo. Let's just see what happens.

#wwe #writing #wwe raw #seth rollins #seth #fanfic

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youknowmymethods · 5 years

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Content Creator Interview #2

In this week’s interview, fandom friends @lilsherlockian1975 and @mrsmcrieff talk about whether they found Sherlock hot or not at first sight, how publicly sharing their work changed their writing, and the hardest thing about writing smutfic (pun fully intended).

And for those who don’t know, today is Lillian’s Birthday, so m’dear, Many Happy Returns!!!!

Hey, so Lilsherlockian1975 and myself, MrsMCrieff, have decided to interview each other for Aine’s challenge. We’re going to try to answer each other’s questions but there is always the danger of us going massively off piste. Our conversations in the past have been eclectic and very wide-ranging not to mention M rated.

Anyway, I thought we could start by saying how we came into the fandom and more than that writing in the fandom. Lil, do you want to start?

Lil: All right, my sister on another continent, here’s how it went: As I’ve explained about finding The Full House on Pinterest, let’s explore what came before that moment, then just after... I was working third shift at a hotel (I had to as Mr Lil and I didn’t really have any childcare options at the time, so we just worked opposite shifts). The hotel was in a very small town - we were never busy, some nights we sold maybe 2 rooms - I usually spent my time watching Netflix. After making my way through Doctor Who, Star Trek Next Gen, Voyager then (God help me) DS9, Farscape and Firefly, I’d finally run out of anything to watch. You’d be surprised how quickly you can burn through a series binge watching for 8 hours at a time (and getting paid for it!).

Then… then I found Sherlock. Well, that changed things… a bit.

“Good Lord, who is the Cumberstud chap and why won’t he have all the sex with me!?” was my first thought, my second was, “Maybe I have a chance with the dishy DI?” and third? “Oh… what fresh hell is this ‘Mycroft’? Yummy!” Then finally, “Ahh, did the casting director somehow read my diary? Creepy but… all right.” To my defense, it was late and I usually worked on very little sleep. Also, I’m a kinky bitch.

I’d never been involved in a ‘fandom proper’, I suppose. That’s not to say that I wasn’t a fangirl. I am and always have been. I was hugely into the Kevin Smith movies, going as far as visiting the Quick Stop and RST Video in Lenardo, NJ, respectively, as well as The Secret Stash, in Red Bank. I was a comic book geek in my youth, Marvel mostly, but some DC as well.

After reading The Full House, I desperately needed MORE Sherlock and luckily enough, there was more to be found.

At first I was just reading, then I wrote and posted a couple of (horrible) fics and met this fellow writer named MrsMCrieff (I might have had a little ‘writing crush’ on you, Mrs!). We chatted on FF.net and struck up a friendship.

So, for me, writing came before fandom. Mrs was doing some betaing for me, but I didn’t ask for help often; I hated bothering her all the time for the multitude of stories I was turning out. At some point around here, I got an elusive invite to AO3 from sherlockian87, bless her soul, because I kept trying to join and couldn’t get a blessed invitation. Also around this time, I had written a prompt and got a PM from MizJoely asking if she could fix some of my mistakes (she was very sweet about it, even though I totally flipped - half fangirling, half losing my shit because ‘Crap, I screwed up so bad, here was The MizJoely asking if she could edit out my mistakes!’) but she wasn’t being critical at all, of course, just helpful as I soon found out. Shortly after, now having formed a friendship with MIz, she suggested that I start a Tumblr blog. And that’s how it all started.

Yes, sorry… I, um, tend to be a tad loquacious. Writing out my answers doesn’t help one little bit.

Okay, Mrs, right back atcha!

Mrs: OK, shall I try to be more concise? I’ll probably fail as I’m terrible as writing short fics they always seem to end up spread over multiple chapters.

I’m another one who had always been a fangirl, Doctor Who, Buffy, Twilight, vampire Diaries (yeah, I love my vampires) but I’d also been a Sherlock Holmes fan. I’d read all the books in my teens, watched the Basil Rathbone and Jeremy Brett adaptations and even stayed at the Sherlock Holmes hotel on Baker St so when a new series was advertised it was an easy sale.

I was late to the cumberobsession though. I have to admit watching the first two series as they came out and I remember thinking I like them but it’s a shame Sherlock isn’t that hot. I know, I know, I’m embarrassed even as I write that.

It all changed after watching season 3 and I blame the Sherlolly kiss 100%. I watched the series, DELETED the records!! And then realised I was spending a lot of time thinking about Sherlock and Benedict...that turned into looking him up online and from there it was a short step to reading Sherlolly fics on fanfic (I was already reading fics for other shipping obsessions). Anyway, it didn’t take long before Sherlolly took over all my other ships and Benedict was my number one hottie.

As for writing, I hadn’t written anything fiction based since school and school was a long time ago...almost thirty years. But one day I was looking for a specific fic, I wanted to read about Sherlock and Molly having to share body heat and I just couldn’t find anything that satisfied me. I’m not sure why but in that moment I decided to write it myself and in half an hour I’d written Frozen...my first ever fic. It took another couple of hours to pluck up the courage to post it and I clearly remember feeling a bit sick and my hand shaking as I pressed the final button to post.

Thankfully, I almost immediately started to receive positive reviews and feedback and it wasn’t long before I started to write more...the rest as they say is history. Lil got in touch soon after and it was fun chatting to another writer just starting out. We soon found we were not dissimilar in age and both had two sons and the friendship started there.

We’ve been through quite a lot over the last few years Lil and written some fab stories. Wouldn’t you agree?

(I should let on that we are now faffing about trying to find the original list of questions...we are trying to be professional).

Ok Lil, so I’ve looked at Aine’s questions and they look really hard. Any preferences on which ones you want to answer :).

Lil: I think a great follow up to that first one is this: How did posting your first story change your process of writing? So I’m shooting it back to you, Mrs, and you can send me that one or select a new one for me. Tag, you’re it!

Mrs: I can tell you quite simply how it changed my process of writing...given that it was my first piece of writing in 30 years I was starting from scratch when it came to any process. One thing that I started with that’s held true for me ever since is that my stories are fully mapped out and written before I even start posting the first chapter. I will edit and make refinements but the bones of the story are there.

I know lots of people post a chapter and then write the next chapter but that would put me under too much pressure. The downside is that if someone gives me a prompt they could be waiting months before they see it posted. The upside is if I’ve started posting a fic you will get the end of it as it’s already been written.

There have only been two exceptions to this method: Sherlock Holmes, Vampire which I worked on over a year or so posting four chapters every so often as I wrote them...it was stressful. And the other is Never Have I Ever which was/is more of a collection of one shots woven together into a fic.

How about you Lil? How did it change for you?

Lil: So, I’d been writing little stories and whatnot for years and years but, having no idea that there was such a thing as ff.net or AO3, I had no place to put them. Writing was always a very, very distant dream of mine. I have loads of notebooks filled with stories, story ideas and my own personal ramblings (unfortunately, my Tumblr followers now have to read the ‘ramblings business’). I stopped for many years after my roommate/best friend since childhood found some of my writing in college that I’d carefully hidden under my bed. I came home to find her in my room, sat on the floor, on the phone with our Art History professor (whom she was sleeping with), as she read him my story and laughed hysterically at its awfulness.

I was devastated and vowed never to write again.

But that changed, of course. Those first maybe ten stories were just me letting my mind go and getting out what I wanted to say (aided by liberal amounts of wine). Since then, however, my ‘process’ has changed drastically. I don’t always write an outline (never for one shots, which I write often) but I generally do for long fics. If not, it’s easy for me to get lost and miss critical points. My writing has become more about ‘layering’ for lack of a better word.

I found after those first few posted fics, that in going back and re-reading them I wanted to make changes. I didn’t re-edit them (because I’m lazy), but it made me realize that my writing required more time and proofing before posting; that first draft is just the start for me - a thin layer of primer paint on a canvas, if you will. I then read over it and add more details and more and more until I get the desired effect. Again, much like oil painting, I have to build things up, layer by layer. This works for me; I have no idea if it’s a proper method of writing. So, posting my first fic(s) helped me learn that I shouldn’t be so trigger happy about posting if the story wasn’t ready.

Okay, Mrs, this one is geared specifically towards you. I don’t think anyone would argue with me about your supernatural ability to write ‘case fics’, so let me ask: Which do you prefer writing, case fics or fluffy smut-filled romps? And why?

Mrs: Oh God, ask me something easy why don’t you. Both, I like writing both. I love the depth of a case fic, the idea, the research, plotting it out and working out the characters and detail but it’s so time consuming and I often write a bit, leave it, come back to it etc. etc. so a detailed case fic can take six months.

Fluff on the other hand is less satisfying but quicker (my minds already in the gutter with an analogy).

Woohoo I kept is fairly short for once. So, here’s one that’s good for you. I’m endlessly envious of how easily you make friends and how you know so many people in the fandom whereas I’m the introverted hermit. Which other authors are you friends with, and how have they help you become a better writer?

Lil: Goodness! You make me sound like a social butterfly (Mr Lil calls me that all the time!). I like people, plain and simple. Other than you, I am close to MizJoely and Darnedchild, that’s no secret, so I’ll talk about them first (you included, because you’ve made me a better writer, I’m sure of it - have actual proof!)

I cannot count the ways Miz has helped me improve my writing. She figuratively took me by the ear and said “okay, you don’t suck but do you even know what a comma is used for?” No, not those actual words, she was much kinder about it, but I got the hidden meaning and I needed it, trust me. She also challenges me and is not afraid to be honest with me when I’ve written something that isn’t good or perhaps doesn’t fit. I know I’ve improved since she started betaing for me, like a 1000%. And Child… When I volunteered to beta for the Big Bang Challenge, I had no idea what I was getting into, but man… she’d written and enormous fic. Good, amazing really, but it was longer than anything I’d ever worked on before. It scared the shit out of me but I really think it was exactly what I needed. Betaing someone else’s work can really make you see your own mistakes from a new perspective. I feel like I jumped ahead after working on the BBC with Child. As for you, MrsMCrieff, just the other day I had The Best compliment… someone actually thought I was British! Yes, that happened. I can only attribute that little feat to you, my friend. You’ve taught me when to add a ‘u’, when not to zed and about many different terms like pavement, taps, hob, loo, trousers (we really don’t say that here!). Not to mention the fact that most European men aren’t circumcised. Who knew?! It’s pretty common in the US.

But that’s just a few. I cannot count the number of fandom friends who have helped me and all the ways that they’ve done so. That doesn’t mean I won’t try…

There’s likingthistoomuch who always listens to my ideas and encouraged me to post my first Harry Potter fic. OhAine has been a true friend from the very beginning, always insightful and supportive. Mellovesall who is just too sweet for words and always helps with edits, no matter what’s going on in her life. Kendrapendragon who let me bounce ideas for my Mirror Has Two Faces AU off of her for like a whole day! the-sapphiresky who has helped me with this historical AU that may or may not ever see the light of day. Allthebellsinvenice who answered about a dozen questions (over two years!) for Dig Down Deep when I’d panic about some D/s situation I’d written myself into. o0katiekins0o who backs me up when I’m in the middle of a sensitive subject. I can always depend on her to help me when I’m afraid I’m crossing a line. Broomclosetkink, Lord help me! She’s pinch hit for me when I’ve written a fic for Miz or if I just need a good laugh. She’s the best. Sweets… it’s very hard to talk about sweet-sweet-escape. I still cannot even bring myself read her stories or the ones I wrote for her without breaking down, but no one was more supportive or kind to me than Sweets. I miss her so much.

Then there’s all the love and support I received from everyone during The Fic That Shall Not Be Named debacle. That’s when I knew how much this fandom (well, this ship, really) had my back! I will never forget how much love and support I received. Bless you all!

I’m forgetting people and I hate that. But I really do love all my fandom friends as if I see them and hang out with them every day. I mean that.

Okay, Mrs, here’s one for you (I’m going back to the list for this one because I like it and I think it’s interesting): What’s the most difficult thing about writing characters of the opposite sex?

Mrs: See, see I said you knew loads of people!

As for your question that’s easy to answer...knowing what it feels like when they get aroused and orgasm. I’m more than happy being female but it would be kind of interesting just to be a guy for one day. It would improve my writing no end.

On a wider note when it comes to writing characters I don’t think any of us made it easy on ourselves when we decided to try to write being a high functioning sociopathic genius. I think I can speak for most of us when I say he’s not the easiest person to try to write authentically. I just wish I had half his knowledge then I wouldn’t feel like such an idiot when I’m writing him.

I gave my youngest son the option of any number between 1 and 40. He chose 7 so does writing energise or exhaust you?

Lil: It absolutely energises me! I do get frustrated trying to find time to write, but actually writing does amazing things for my mental and physical self. I find that I’m much more productive around the house when I’m in the middle of a writing jag. I’ll sit and write for a while, then get up and pound out some chores (usually more quickly as to get back to my computer). Somehow, this works for me. Frankly, it’s probably got to do with my ADHD. I’m the kind of person who needs to do multiple things at once. I’m the same at work; I cannot just stand behind the registrar for 8 hours. I practically beg my managers for extra work, which they’re happy to give me.

I have an original question for you, love: How does a bad review affect you?

Mrs: I’ll be honest I don’t react well to a bad review but it does depend on whether I think it’s valid or not. You probably know each and every time I’ve had one because I will probably have sent you a screen shot and asked your opinion. Thankfully they have been few and far between, occasionally they have made me think...especially if I’m being accused of using a tired old trope and I’ve made the effort to up my game in future fics but often they are just being nasty for the sake of it.

Writing is such a personal thing though, we give a piece of ourselves in each and every fic so it’s hard to not take criticism very personally.

Same question to you Lil.

Lil: Oh, I’m a giant baby about a bad review and have been known to take it very personally. At first I brood… like really hard, thinking on the entire thing much longer than necessary. I suppose it depends on the nature and tone, for the most part though. If it’s attacking and spiteful, I’ll attack right back but if it’s coming from a ‘goodish’ place, I do try to look at my writing a bit more objectively (I don’t always succeed). Anonymous bad reviews get to me the most. The fact that I cannot reply drives me up the wall!

Okay, we’re wrapping this up (else we could go on forever!) Thanks so much and a big thanks to Aine for organizing this as well!

Mrs & Lil

Next Week:

Posting on Friday 01 March it’s @ohaine ‘s turn (eek!) to interview @ashockinglackofsatin

#content creator interviews #lilsherlockian1975 #mrsmcrieff #sherlolly #sherlock #mentions of lemony goodness

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sagiow · 5 years

Text

A parley of provocation

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17889482

« Emma? »

All four were at a stand-off, silent, waiting for someone to shoot, for the bullet to bite; yet no one pulled the trigger. In the middle, Mary’s eyes darted from the irate young woman, burning with anger, to the frozen preacher, his jaw set, his posture rigid. Across, Jedidiah's were fixed on the Head Nurse, waiting for that mysterious fifth sense of hers to tingle and tell him, with the lightest twitch of her brow, the slightest tensing of her muscles, that it was time to spring into action.

They were in the kitchen, but they could have been in the Mongolian desert or one of Jupiter’s moons and it would not have been the strangest thing in this foreign situation.

« HOW COULD YOU! » Emma finally cried, from the depths of her belly. “You knew what it meant to me!”

Henry did not flinch, his blue gaze an icy pond in winter. “Yes, I did.”

“I trusted you!” she pressed on, fists clenched. “And you… took advantage!”

At her desperate accusation, Jed’s face blanched, while Mary’s colored. Their eyes met over the quarrellers and they suddenly wished they were anywhere but in this room, this early in the day, after such a late night, in such delicate company. “Miz Mary…” a woman’s voice was heard again, and shushed just as promptly with an impatient wave of a hand.

Henry was paying them no mind, his full focus on the livid lady before him, a certain detachment now to his bearing as he leaned against a chair. “I could say the same to you, Miss Green,” he retorted, with an uncharacteristic bite to his speech. “You were most… cavalier with your attentions.”

“I most surely was not!” she gasped. “I demand you apologize, Sir!”

“Oh, but I won’t. Not for my words, nor for helping myself to that satisfying compensation you are now so loath to be parted from. I admit it was even sweeter than I anticipated,” he added with a sneer, to another huff of rage from Emma. She took a step forward, her hand lifting once more, but Mary expected it, and she briskly grasped her wrist to prevent further damage to Henry’s physique.

Jed took this as his cue to intervene, and he grabbed the other man’s arm, twisting him away from his unexpected opponent. “Hopkins, what happened? What the devil are you speaking of?!” The devil now, he noted; how far from Grace this discussion had apparently fallen.

“Why, of Miss Green’s lovely apples, of course.”

There was a stunned silence. “Her… her what now?” Mary finally stuttered, trying to decipher his meaning, and blushing furiously at the various images her attempts conjured.

“My apples!” Emma shouted. “Belinda brought me leftover Apples à la Parisienne from the ball for breakfast and this thief stole them! I told him they were my favorite and he ate them all!”

She pointed accusingly to the table, where they now saw a fine plate, empty if not for a few crumbs and streaks of meringue. Henry crossed his arms, a polished spoon appearing forth in his hand, and Jed could not believe he had failed to notice how odd it was for him to hold such a utensil in the previous pandemonium.

Henry only shrugged. “Seems to me you would’ve had your share if you had just taken the smallest of intermissions from dancing all night with your gallant soldiers.”

“I could not! I was being a gracious host!” Emma riposted.

The chaplain scoffed. “Oh, indeed, is that what you were being ? You had me quite fooled.”

“Isn't one slap enough, Chaplain?” Mary warned him. “I’ve a mind to release her if you keep this language up.”

“Fine. Let’s say you were a charming hostess to these handsome officers, and not deviously seducing them away from their duty.”

“Hopkins! Enough!” growled Foster, straining to keep his rising pressure in check. “What’s the matter with you, man?! You blame her for young Fairfax’s escape?”

Too far along into his foray to retrench, too lacking in subtlety to plan a diversion, Henry did not back down, but charged bitterly ahead. “Well, yes, I do, but the main matter here, and the greater offense, is that she never honored the dance she pledged me. And since she didn’t, well… I just had to divert all that unwanted attention to that delectable dessert of her mother’s and, I must admit, now find it much more agreeable and honest company!"

At his words, all three recoiled. Emma started, as if she had been the one struck. Jed frowned, a warning clear in the taut angle of his neck. Utterly bewildered, Mary turned to Belinda, who rolled her eyes and lifted her palms in surrender. “Don’t be lookin’ at me like that, Miz Mary. I done tried to tell ya.”

“This is all about… the ball? About dessert and a dance?” Mary summarized slowly, every word a strain to pronounce.

“Not just any desert!”

“Not just any dance!”

“Oh Lord in Heaven, you two!” Jed exploded, his patience extinguished. “This is beyond ridiculous! Are you bloody children? Were you raised by wolves?! No?! Hopkins, you go fetch the girl something sweet and apologize for eating her stupid French whatnot out of pitiful spite. And Miss Green, just grant the poor fellow a damn dance, will you? Can’t you see all the hearts in his eyes every time he looks at you? Hell, I can see them clear as day all the way across the ward, and I can’t even focus on my own hands most of the time because I’m high as a kite! Jesus! Nurse Mary, a word, and not one more from the two of you, or so help me God!”

With a murderous last look to the sullen yet quieted younger people, Jed stole Mary to the hallway, his hand insistent upon her elbow. Once they were out of earshot and eyesight, in the relative comfort of the dimmed lighting, he leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in muted frustration.

Mary granted him an instant to collect himself, at once concerned and amused. “That was… pious. I’ve rarely heard you speak so devoutly.”

He exhaled dramatically, both a chuckle and a sigh. “I apologize if it offended you, but it does seem to have paused their ludicrous bickering, so I can't say I'm all that sorry." When his hand dropped limply to his side, he appeared aged, defeated, a silent plea in his weary expression.

"All this talk of longing gazes and jealous retaliation has made me realize something,” he muttered dejectedly. “Something I must confess and humbly ask of you.”

Caught by the intensity of his suppliant gaze, she found herself unable to speak, and could only manage an imperceptible nod. Suddenly, there was the warmest of touches to her hand, his fingers curling around hers, and she grew unable to breathe as well.

“Mary,” Jed finally confessed. “I fear I’m not steadfast enough in my new soberness to deal with such bunkum drama. I have rarely felt the needle calling me as it is in this excruciating moment. So please, before I lapse, lock me up again. Help me stay the course.”

The breath returned in a gust, her lungs violently deflating along with her newborn hope. Against her palm, so hot an instant ago, she now felt the cold metal of a key, pressed beseechingly. Numbly, she took it, retreating her hand to the safety of its sister. Somehow, she managed to will her lips to curl into a reassuring smile and not the painful grimace she inwardly felt.

“Of course, J- Doctor,” she replied, forgoing the allowed familiarity for the known comfort of formality. “Perhaps a bit dramatic, but if you feel there is a risk to your health -”

“To mine and theirs, if they continue on with this nonsense. It’s unbearable to watch such stupidity unfold, such wasted time and energy in such young, free people.” Was that bitterness she detected? He did not allow her time to wonder as he pressed on: “Do fetch me for any medical emergency, but if I cross these two again today, I’m afraid I will be the cause of yet another.”

“You can count on me. Besides, you said yourself how I relish locking you up,” Mary jested, hoping humor would hide the disappointment she could not seem to shake. “What shall we say ails you, this time?”

“A most grievous, head-splitting, soul-crushing migraine, and it will not be a lie.”

“I know of a most effective remedy for this,” she offered, leading the way to the upper levels.

“Thank you, Nurse Phinney. As long as it’s not what you administered the steward, I’ll gladly take it.”

(Pic from here, not mine, don’t sue me)

#mercy street #mercy street pbs #fanfic #campy nonsense #emmry #phoster #apples a la parisienne

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artificialqueens · 6 years

Text

It’s hard to dance with a devil on your back, so shake him off (Craquaria) - Samwhity

A/N: I purposefully chose to hint to the racial component in Eureka’s pairing choices. I did it because I found her way of explaining it poorly articulated and disrespectful of the POC in the room. On top of that, Kingsleyyy expression at the end had me almost in tears: he looks sad and somehow disappointed even if he says “it’s okay”. ALSO: the hate Aquaria is receiving (from Monét’s fans and other queens) is sad and shows everything that shouldn’t be happening in this fandom. Calling her fake because of 45 minutes of edited reality show looks like a poor choice to me and seeing queens - *cough* Farrah *cough* - speaking solely on the base of that made me angry and a little bit sad too. Consider this little creation my emotional outlet. Sidenote: The oneshot is supposed to play the night/morning after of the where Aquaria, Monét and Pangina were working.

Summary: Sighing, Aquaria started typing. Aquaria: It is on me. Everything that happened is on me. Kingsley felt like shit because of that pairing: invalidating his skin colour like that is frankly disgusting and it happened because of me. Me being in a corner practising for that song and not even noticing what kind of shit was thrown at him is my fault. Me not stepping in to say how great and fierce of a queen he is, spoiler alert, is on me. Me being somehow liked enough to be safe even when I didn’t deserve it is on me. Because, spoiler alert, I don’t fucking deserve any of this kindness. […] So yeah, it’s on me. This huge pile of shit is literally on me, on my fucking shoulders and let me tell you I am fucking tired.

She could not breathe.

Everything around her was starting to swallow her up, letting little to no space for her to move.

She somehow managed to arrive to the hotel, trying as long as she could to avoid Jordan judgy look and racing to the bathroom, before closing the door behind her.

In a matter of seconds, all of Aquaria’s bad feelings and negative emotions got the best of her and she found herself throwing up, in tears, clutching to the white porcelain of the toilet.

“Christ” her friend’s voice startled her, making her almost bump her head on the toilet lead.

Suddenly, two tiny hands were around the queen torso, helping her to stand up.

“All out, miss thing?” Jordan didn’t seem to be missing a beat, rubbing her back and making sure she was at least able to walk.

Aquaria nodded, before moving to the sink and splashing water on her face, completely oblivious of lashes and make-up.

“Sort yourself, then go to sleep” her friend’s voice reminded her of Cracker’s tone, every time they somehow stumbled upon Aquaria’s lack of communication skills.

“Can you please leave?” the queen managed to ask, before moving to fetch some coconut oil and remove her already almost melted make-up “I’m fine” she then added, even if neither of them believed it.

Jordan sighed, before opening the browser on her phone and typing something.

“There is a Starbucks few blocks away” he explained “I’m gonna get you some tea, okay? Don’t do anything stupid”.

Aquaria nodded, trying to erase the black liner she used to paint her face without getting everything in her eyes. She needed a shower and clean clothes, she thought, before realizing there was only a bath tub and sighing.

“This will have to do”, she mumbled, before beginning to fill the tub and starting to undress. The queen tossed her clothes on the floor, before remembering she would have needed them for an upcoming show and folding them neatly.

In the meanwhile, her phone started buzzing.

The Vixen created a new group chat “Bullshit”

The Vixen: Bitch you okay?

Monét: …

Miz Cracker: What the hell is happening?

Monét: Not sure.

The Vixen: Someone looked like she went through it. Again…

Miz Cracker: I’m kinda lost, here…

Monét: Vixen, it’s so sweet of you but I’m fine. Trust. Just a little shaken.

The Vixen: I wasn’t talking about you.

Miz Cracker: LOL

Miz Cracker: Wait, what?

The Vixen: Aquafina, where are you?

Monét: Where are your people at?

Miz Cracker: Guys, what the hell is happening? Katelyn and I are still lost.

Miz Cracker: She says hi, btw

The Vixen: I got a glimpse of Aquaria after the show, scrolling through her phone and looking like someone single-handedly killed her puppy. So I checked and they’re dragging her down. Like a lot.

Monét: Wait what?

Miz Cracker: They always drag her down.

Miz Cracker: How is that any different from every other time?

Monét: @Aquaria are you okay? I’ll cut a bitch, you know it

In that exact moment, the young queen entered the bedroom, a towel around her narrow hips, to find a whole lot of messages, replies to some of her tweets, mentions and, of course, the new group chat.

She sighed, before reading all the messages and deciding she would have answered later.

She read some of the tweets, before tossing the phone on the bed and starting getting dressed.

When Jordan came back, she was lying in bed watching TV.

“Here, your majesty” he put the cup on her night stand “Want to talk about it?”.

Aquaria shrugged, before adding: “Not really. I just got what I deserved, I guess…”.

The light slap on her head left her dumbfounded.

“Don’t even start with your pity parties, you dumb bitch” her friend said “Let this shit go. Water of a bunkbed, or whatever”.

“Duck’s back” the young queen murmured, before noticing her phone vibrating.

The Vixen: Remember: I know where you’re staying

Monét: LOL. She’s here to fight!

Miz Cracker: @Aquaria are you okay? I smell trouble, when you’re not on your phone

She bit her bottom lip, before answering.

Aquaria: Sorry, was taking a bath.

Aquaria: What are we talking about, again?

The Vixen: #toovague

Aquaria: Oh Lord

Aquaria: I’m fine. Was taking a bath, had some glue on me…

Monét: Shit.

Miz Cracker: Poop

The Vixen: Can you not?

Monét: I just read it. It’s fucked up.

The Vixen: told you!

Miz Cracker: I still haven’t understood what we are talking about…

Much to Aquaria’s despair, Monét send some screenshots to the group chat and Aquaria couldn’t help herself but cringe. Meanwhile, the conversation was still going.

Monét: I actually don’t think you did that bad. And regardless, this is some fucked up shit.

The Vixen: My point

Monét: And as much as I love you, had you volunteered for that lip synch I would have kicked your ass

Miz Cracker: Is not on you.

The young queen sighed, before typing a quick answer.

Aquaria: Can we please not…?

Aquaria: All I want right now is to go to drink my fucking tea and go to sleep.

Monét: BITCH

The Vixen: ???

Monét: You throw your guts out?

Miz Cracker: Okay, I’m lost. Again.

“Fucking bitch” Aquaria murmured, before sending a message to Jordan saying: “You nosy bitch. I’m gonna get you…” to which the other one answered with a silly emoji.

Monét: Aquaria you should honestly chill a little. Yes, you didn’t do great and yes, maybe you should have been in the Bottom 2 but you didn’t and it is not on you. Don’t listen to any of that shit, don’t let it affect you and go on with your life. I love you, I think you are a fierce queen and a decent Cracker impersonator.

Miz Cracker: * facepalm *

Sighing, Aquaria started typing.

Aquaria: It is on me. Everything that happened is on me. Kingsley felt like shit because of that pairing: invalidating his skin colour like that is frankly disgusting and it happened because of me. Me being in a corner practising for that song and not even noticing what kind of shit was thrown at him is my fault. Me not stepping in to say how great and fierce of a queen he is, spoiler alert, is on me. Me being somehow liked enough to be safe even when I didn’t deserve it is on me. Because, spoiler alert, I don’t fucking deserve any of this kindness.

She sent it, before wiping her eyes and starting typing again.

Aquaria: And I swear to God every time I say that I will make it right and it never works. I tried to explain myself after that whole “leave me alone” moment and got nothing but hate. I spoke with Dusty before her lip synch and I’m fake as hell. I don’t reply to Sharon’s photos like people would love me to and I’m an insensitive spoiled disgusting brat that will never do good. I try to make things right with friends I genuinely love and adore and I am told “You do it to clean your image”. I try to be as sincere and as vulnerable as I can just for people to say “Stop being humble on twitter, you worthless piece of garbage”. I am permanently called names I find too disgusting too share. So yeah, it’s on me. This huge pile of shit is literally on me, on my fucking shoulders and let me tell you I am fucking tired.

She pressed “send” before even reading the whole text in order to check it because she knew that she would have never sent it otherwise. She then grabbed her tea and started sipping on it, trying to calm herself. She didn’t even realize she was sobbing until she almost choked on her beverage.

Someone knocked at her door and, thinking it was Jordan, she got up and opened only to find Monét and Vixen standing in front of her, looking worried.

“I… I can’t do this right now” she managed to mumble, completely lost “I’m sorry I can’t…”.

She couldn’t speak any further, because Monét engulfed her in a hug and didn’t seem to be willing to let go.

“We got her”, Aquaria heard Vixen saying on the phone “Should I put you on speaker, Miz Peptalk?”.

And there she was: Miz Cracker live and in stereo

“Giovanni are you listening?” she said, before sighing and continuing: “Nothing of what happened in that Untucked is your fault. Nothing, okay? You can not take the blame for someone else’s conscious decision because it’s not fair. First of all to yourself.”.

The young queen was now crying, engulfed in Monét’s embrace an incapable of keeping herself together any longer.

“I’m so sorry..” she mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

“Stop. Right now” Cracker’s stern tone made the others flinch “Stop hating yourself to the point that you think you deserve all this shit. Stop because, fuck it, you deserve the world. And you pulled it off, making that decision look like the tasteless joke it was. Are you listening, Giovanni?”.

“Yeah” Aquaria answered between sobs.

“Good, because I want you to understand that you are not responsible for other people’s feelings toward you” it sounded like the older queen was pacing around a room, probably her hotel room “Unless you have wronged them, and it is not the case, it’s none of your fucking business and they are a bunch of unreasonable people. And now, you’re gonna drink your tea, go to sleep and call me when you wake up. Have I made myself clear, Giovanni?”.

The only answer she got was a muffled “Mh”, to which she answered with a “It’ll have to do, this time”.

Trying to lighten the mood, Monét chuckled: “God, now I know who’s the top in this friendship”, which cause Aquaria to slap him lightly on the shoulder.

After hanging up, the two older queens took out sweatpants and t-shirts, before making themselves comfortable in the other one’s bed.

“Confess it: it’s your guilty pleasure” Vixen lovingly mocked her “In bed with two black men”.

“Are you really playing the race card?” the young queen said, before laying in bed and snuggling against a cushion.

“If you snore, I swear, you’ll die”, she murmured, before falling asleep.

The following day, Aquaria woke up in an empty bed and found a note on her bedside table saying: “We’ll see you tonight. Call Cracker, before she loses her shit!”

She smiled, before reaching for her phone and dialling the queen’s number.

“How are you feeling?” Cracker didn’t waste time and went straight to the core of the discussion “Monét was worried, and you know the bitch lived in the Bronx…”.

The other one bit her bottom lip, before murmuring: “I’m sorry. It just got the best of me and I guess I could have reacted better”.

“Well, you kinda got a lot to deal with” the older one said “Just try to watch out for yourself. You know they’ll come for you regardless and…”

“I miss you” Aquaria’s words made Cracker stop for a second, smiling despite the bad moment “I really do, you know?”.

“I miss you too” the older queen answered, incapable of hiding a smile “I can’t wait to see you again, you know?”.

“I know” the other one murmured “I can’t wait to see you either. I miss your face. And your hugs…” she stopped for a second, before adding: “Do you think the others know…?”.

The laugh on the other end of the line made her pout.

“I think they wouldn’t find so unbelievable, if we were to tell them” Miz Cracker said, before sighing “Babe, I have to go. Talk to you soon?”.

Aquaria smile, before answering: “Sure. Have a good day, okay?”.

A couple of minutes later, she got a text from the older queen that made her smile. It was the screenshot of her conversation with Monét and she couldn’t help but giggle, after having read it.

Monét, 08:53 am: Just left your BF’s bedroom. He slept through the night and he’ll be fine, I guess. I’ll keep an eye on him tonight.

Miz Cracker, 08:53 am: Thank you.

Miz Cracker, 08:54 am: Btw… BF?

Monét 08:54 am: LOL. You two aren’t fooling anyone. It’s kinda cute actually.

Miz Cracker 08:55 am: Keep it to yourself, okay?

Miz Cracker, 08:55 am: PLEASE, Monét.

Monét, 08:56 am: Your secret is safe with me.

Monét, 08:59 am: Now that I think about it… have you actually fucked on set?

Aquaria couldn’t stop herself from smiling fondly: Monét was a really amazing friend, a great competitor on the show and overall a considerate and caring person.

She quickly sent an heart emoji to Cracker, before heading to the bathroom with a smile.

A/N (2): The show Monét is referring to actually happened the day after the viewing party. The texts with a timestamp are supposed to be iMessages, the groupchat is a whatsapp one. (Yeah, I’m a sucker for details) Also, I just wanted to thank you all for the support and amazing feedback to mywork. It really means a lot. I hope you enjoyed my last attempt at: “Let’s put Aquaria through some pain”…!

#samwhity #craquaria #established relationship #hurt/comfort #fluff #oneshot #miz cracker #aquaria #rpdr fanfiction #on set fic #canon compliant #angst #s10

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riona-is-writing · 6 years

Text

Accents

Accents can be a tricky thing. Some advocate for writing completely devoid of hints towards an accent - instead saying that writers should state the accent and let the reader fill in the accent for themselves. Others advocate complete phonetic rendering of an accent. And then there are those who fall in the middle, who hint at an accent, but do not completely phonetically render it. Personally, I’ve found that there are advocates and critics of each method, so what I’ll do is list each method and let you decide which to use.

No Accent

Example:

“Wine,” she rasped, her voice like nails on a school board. “Wine, English.”

Artemis smiled. The gift of tongues, check. Aversion to light, check.

“Irish, actually. Now about my proposition?” - Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer

You’ll notice in the above example that Artemis’ nationality is cleared up pretty quickly. Everything is written in Standard English, but Artemis corrects the other character, saying that he is Irish, not English. Fairly on in the book, the reader now knows that Artemis is Irish. This is how writing with no accent works. Everything is written with standard spelling. The writer states at some point what the accent is, but does not use phonetic spelling to show this.

HOWEVER, the writer can use other methods to make the accent apparent and to remind the reader of the accent. These include: slang, word choice, word order, different meanings for shared words (like American football versus UK football), and so on. (This post has a section on accents that goes into further detail on this.)

Pros:

not confusing for a wider audience to read

allows the reader to fill in the accent

this seems to be the least likely to offend people

Cons:

however, some people may be offended by your rendering of their unique accent into Standard English, especially if they already have their own spellings for their accent

sometimes the reader does not know the accent or it is too much effort for them to read it in that accent, leading to the reader unable to fully visualize your character in the way you intended

Phonetic Rendering

Example:

Rogg doffed his hat gallantly, bowing his velvety head. “Gudd day to ee, zurr an’ miz, noice t’meet ee oi’m sure!” - Lord Brocktree, by Brian Jacques

Brian Jacque’s Redwall series is filled with this type of writing accents. Each type of animal (the example above is how the moles speak) has their own unique accent, and so this series is a good example of the positives and negatives of using this type of accent.

The way this works is the author phonetically renders the accent. Basically, they write out each word as it sounds. So if I wanted to write a Boston accent in this way, I might write the standard, “Pahked the cah in Hahvahd Yahd,” as opposed to “Parked the car in Harvard Yard.” Not every word has to be phonetically rendered, but a good portion (particularly words that will help give an indication of the accent - like writing out every “r” as an “h” for a Boston accent) should be rendered this way.

Pros:

even if the reader doesn’t know the accent, they can approximate a rough guess by sounding out the words (e.g. I don’t know all of the accents and locations in the real world that Jacques references in this series, but I can make a rough guess based on trying to pronounce the words the way they look to me with the phonetic spelling)

for certain accents, there are different spellings, more phonetically based, that the people who actually have the accent would prefer to see in print more than they do now (e.g. Scots English, which has its own spelling and conventions)

Cons:

it can be very difficult for the reader to puzzle out if it’s done a lot (they have to sit there and struggle through pages of dialogue, which can be off-putting to some)

some people could find it offensive, depending on which accent and who your reader is

Hinting at an Accent

Example:

“If I die," he whispered in the dark, "dinna follow me. The bairns will need ye. Stay for them. I can wait.” - A Breath of Snow and Ashes, by Diana Gabaldon

Notice how this one combines the first two to create a softer version. While some words are phonetically spelled (dinna = do not, ye = you), much of the words are spelled in a standard form. In addition, other words unique to the accent (Scots) such as bairns are used to further emphasize the accent.

Pros:

- easier for most readers to read

- makes use of slang/words unique to the accent, and can also make use of word order as well

- helps the reader, even if they don’t know the accent, to make a rough guess as to what it sounds like, based on the phonetically spelled words

Cons:

- some readers are going to find it offensive because either it: a) phonetically renders words as if the accent is lesser than English or b) because it isn’t making complete use of an already existing way to spell words in the accent

- it can still be challenging for some readers if they don’t understand the slang or what is being said

Sidenote: Generally, it’s the dialogue that gets written these last two ways (with whatever amount of phonetic rendering you choose); the character’s internal thoughts and narration remain in Standard English. (I can think of very few books that have the narration written in an accent as well, and even fewer that do it well.)

And of course, for all of these you can use syntax, slang, idioms, etc., to make the accent clear (again, see here for further detail).

So what is the right way to write an accent? How do I avoid offense?

The answer:

There isn’t, and you can’t.

All of the above arguments, both the positive and the negative ones, are easy to find anywhere - in writing books, articles, or even just from native speakers. The problem is, you can never avoid offending people because everybody has different opinions. Just like how not everybody will like your writing, not everybody will like the choices you made with regards to their accent.

Nobody’s perfect - so don’t beat yourself up over the “right” way of writing an accent. Your job is to tell the story, in the best way possible, and in the way YOU want it to be told.

Does this mean that you shouldn’t bother yourself about the feelings and beliefs of those who actually have the accent?

Uh, no.

It’s their accent, and you should do your best to portray it well. I’m going to reiterate from an earlier post of mine about writing accents:

- be RESPECTFUL of whatever accent you’re trying to portray, especially if it’s not your accent

- don’t overdo the accent because it might end up sounding stereotypical (and that is not respectful - see above)

- you should get a feel for the accent you’re trying to write. Listen to the music, read something in that accent, watch/listen people talk in the accent until you hear the rhythm and way people with that accent talk.

Whichever way you choose to write the accent, keep it as respectful and accurate as you can, and understand that not everybody will be happy with your decision, because that’s how people work.

- Riona

P.S. For those still who are still unconvinced that there’s no wrong way to write an accent, all three examples used above are from some of my favorite books. All three of the books are enjoyable, even with their very different ways of writing accents. So keep that in mind! :)

#writing #writing help #story help #writing resources #accents #character development #tips for writing

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fouquesartcorner · 6 years

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Starward Passage: (please remember guys, this is still incomplete so I’ll be updating this. If you reblog, it will not be updated however along when I do, just FYI. Easy access to it can be found : HERE )

--you’re still welcome to, but just that heads up

Main family/peeps:

Cielys (Noah/Noel in other universes) [pronunciation: Seal-liss] {Species: Vitrian Alsius} My main focus in this story/universe and who essentially started this whole journey, both within the story and the starting point in which I started building everything from. He is a lil wimpy, passive thing who watched his friends get abducted by off worlders and try to venture out to get them back, especially after losing his mother to a similar situation. He meets people along the way and learns more about the galaxy than just his homeworld.

Renaiya [pronunciation: Ren-nigh-yah] {Species: Vitrian Alsius} Cielys’s mother, and a healer among their people. She is a singer mother, and was taken off-world.

Sorien [pronunciation: Sore-rin] {Species: Vitrian Adamus} A childhood friend of Cielys. An adventurous hothead who was one of the friends Cielys is trying to help.

Anwen [pronunciation: And-win] {Species: Vitrian Alsius} Cielys’s cousin and more of a survivalist type person who adapts to where she is and tends to not follow rules.

(Cielys’s Uncle) [pronunciation: Ren-nigh-yah] {Species: Vitrian Alsius} Renaiya’s older brother and Anwen’s father. Can say he’s an artist of sorts, and not very much of a fighter. He prefers to mentor the young and council people when he can.

Space Station Peeps:

Rhys Sangre / Rhisnyd [pronunciation: Reese-and] {Species: Vesper Dromier} A blind bartender who runs a club called the Whispering Flame in which he organizes a ring of informants from. He is also lowkey connected to a crime syndicate and group of hackavists too.

Kaeden [pronunciation: Kay-den] {Species: Vesper Luminare/Aikaya} A rowdy young Vesper-Aikaya hybrid who went from being a streetrat to an employee for Rhys.

Tanja Avira / Tilana [Pronunciation: Tih-lan-ah] {Species: Aikaya} An Aikaya and adopted sister to Rhys. Former dancer and now spending her time helping Rhys while also runs a side job as a massage therapist.

Miz Anne / Nyss Nania [Pronunciation: Niss Nan-ee-ah] {Species: Citiali} A sassy little old frog lady who works as a cook for the Whispering Flame, and while she looks out for Rhys and Tanja, she is also surprisingly a tough body guard too.

Zann [pronunciation: Zann] {Species: Citiali} Friend to Kaeden in his early years of being a streetrat and was a mentor to Kaeden before they got separated.

Lar'mier [pronunciation: Lair-meer] {Species: Talirian} Wandering loner who tries to avoid issues caused by his father.

Ghost Brokers peeps

Shalimar Kreüz [Proanounciation: Shall-ee-mar Krootz] {Species: Human} Excellent hacker and information broker, who is the head of an information brokers ring and hackavist group.

Lahti [Pronounciation: Lah-tee] {Species: Vitrian Nixis} One of the informants under Shalimar. A bit of a trouble maker really.

Cole Sandoval [Prounciation: C’o Sand-da-vul] {Species: Human} An independent agent who works for Rhys at the Whispering Flame, and indirectly, works for Shalimar for different missions.

Sylliene [pronunciation: Sill-leen] {Species: Vesper Dromier} Former slave and now works as a detective/private investigator.

Zephyr Anasasi [pronunciation: Zef-fer An-nah-zah-zee] {Species: Human} Explorer and daredevil who travels around collecting artifacts or so. Sometimes works as a courier too.

Villains and Related:

Rau'gan [pronunciation: Raw-gun] {Species: Talirian} A subtle crime lord who goes around stirring up problems anywhere he goes, but somehow manages to avoid being caught.

Krydon [pronunciation: Cry-dun] {Species: A’mok} Rau’gan’s right hand man.

[] [pronunciation: ] {Species: Talirian} One of the Talirians who runs with Rau’gan, who specializes in technology and enjoys making new gadgets to make his life and his group’s life more fun.

[] [pronunciation: ] {Species: Talirian} A large Talirian loyal to Rau’gan, who specializes in weaponry and heavy work really.

Drankas [pronunciation: Dron-cas] {Species: Vesper Dromier} A man who travels around in space to find rarities such as flora, fauna, artifacts, and from time, species he finds of interest. A collector.

Kirin [pronunciation: Keer-rin] {Species: Vesper Dromier} A young naive Vesper who serves Drankas.

Ahmiir [pronunciation: Ah-meer] {Species: Vitrian Nivalis} A morally grey Vitrian who wants to do what he can for the benefit of his species, even if it means doing some pretty nasty things to other people, especially those of not his species.

Itan [pronunciation: Ee-tahn] {Species: Vitrian ??? } Cielys’s father, in which there’s not much known yet about him.

Vitrian Allies:

Ariasia [pronunciation: Are-ee-sigh-ah] {Species: Vitrian} A traveler and a navigator, who enjoys charting the stars as well as flying her way around space. Also likes a good cup of tea too.

Sehkmetir [pronunciation: Seth'k-met-tear] {Species: Vitrian} A ranger/animal handler of sorts. He is a mercenary of sorts, doing odd jobs and always with the help of an animal companion.

Isavar [pronunciation: Eye-sah-var] {Species: Vitrian Nivalis}

(Isavar’s little sister) [pronunciation: Eye-sah-var] {Species: Vitrian Nivalis}

Cyrens:

Asamira [pronunciation: Ah-sah-meer-rah] {Species: Cyren}

Olivia [pronunciation: Oh-liv-vee-ah] {Species: Cyren}

Ouja [pronunciation: Oo-jah] {Species: Cyren}

Ilku [pronunciation: Ill-kuu] {Species: Cyren}

*Note: Little tidbits seen here, especially for some crossovers, are within this universe and can vary in other AUs/Stories. Differences make things interesting I’d say!

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jomiddlemarch · 6 years

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“They put Us far apart,” Mercy Street Season 3 That Never Was, Episode 2

I. She’d been sitting by the girl for a few hours now, the busy bustle of the day over and done; someone had given her a tin cup of soup and she’d drunk it down, not bothering to taste it. Earlier that morning, she’d had hope that Mamie’s determined temperament and her own diligent care might be enough, but now, she knew she was only sitting a deathbed vigil and none of the others disagreed, she could see it in every resigned expression. Each breath the girl took was more tortured and Charlotte could feel the Angel of Death hovering just beside her; she thought it might be a relief to the girl when He took her hand and drew her forward. She kept praying, a prayer that was made of words she could hardly mean and her hands holding Mamie’s, trying to will the girl to live. She’d undertaken hopeless tasks before and she would again; it wasn’t the hopelessness that counted, it was the attempt. She told herself that again and again, like the nuns with their rosaries.

“They said I’d find you here—Charlotte?” Samuel said, having approached quietly, taking in the tableau in an instant.

“I need a scalpel and a cannula, now!” he exclaimed, taking Mamie’s hand from hers and feeling for a pulse.

“What?”

“I know I left a set of instruments here, in the basin after I repaired old Lemuel’s belly. Where’d you put it?”

“It’s over there, I cleaned them the way you told me,” Charlotte said as she moved swiftly to retrieve the kit. It was second-hand, clearly much used, but it had been given to Samuel by Dr. Foster, and included French instruments American surgical kits didn’t, the quality evident in the heft of the handles, the sharpness of the scoured blades.

“Good,” Samuel said, taking it from her hand and then bending with the scalpel angled towards Mamie’s throat.

“Sweet Lord Jesus, what are you doing?” Charlotte cried as he cut Mamie’s throat.

“A tracheotomy, it’s a way to get air into her lungs. She can’t breathe, she’s choking to death from the diphtheria but this might,” he explained, the words quick as his hands, the knife sliding in and then a curious metal tube, a little mottled, tucked in the wound he’d made. “This might let her live. She can breathe now, more easily, and the membrane from the illness should break up soon. She couldn’t have coughed it up, she would have done it by now.”

They both watched Mamie for a few minutes, Samuel holding her wrist in his hand. He’d worked so efficiently and she was so weak, she’d hardly struggled against the procedure, but now it seemed she was a bit easier. Samuel leaned closer to listen at the end of the cannula, dabbing at the blood on the girl’s neck with the edge of the sheet.

“It’s working--we should put a dressing around it, so it doesn’t come loose,” he said.

“How can you tell so fast?”

“I can hear her breath and look at her shoulders, she’s not retracting, that means, she’s not working so hard to get the air in. Her fever’s still up but she has a chance now. I’ll have to tell Dr. Foster that treatise he loaned me came in handy,” he explained.

“You saved her life,” Charlotte said. She’d seen him doctoring before, but it didn’t stop the feeling of wonder in her, at his skill and the gift he had for seeing a way forward when it seemed to everyone else there was no way out.

“Maybe. A little soon to say. It’s in God’s hands, isn’t it?” he replied with his usual humility but she made out the satisfaction in his tone, the pride in the work of his two hands.

“You didn’t come here for this, though. I can get someone else to sit with her a spell, if you wanted to talk,” she offered. The urgency of the moment had passed, leaving her fatigued, exhausted with it, but still conscious of her duty. And perhaps something more than that, when it came to Samuel.

“Nothing that can’t wait,” he said, diffident as he hadn’t been when he was operating.

“I’m sure Miz Leora won’t mind sitting with Mamie a while,” she said, gesturing to the older woman at the other end of the canvas-roofed ward, who walked over and took the seat Charlotte pointed to with an easy grace.

“Won’t be too long, ma’am,” Charlotte said to the other woman.

“You and Dr. Sam take all the time you want. I’ll keep liftin’ this chile up to the Lord, he’s bound to ‘preciate a different voice by now,” Leora said, smiling at them beneficently.

It wasn’t a long walk to the school-room tent and it was empty as her own quarters were not; there were some young girls lately come from Savannah, two sisters and a third unrelated they’d found on their journey north, snug on pallets near her own. The camp was running out of space and she wasn’t sure what she would do in a week or so when there were no pallets left, not one inch of space left, not even scraps to feed them all, clothe them all. It was a worry she kept close, sure at least that no one could help her with it.

“I must thank you, Samuel, for what you just did,” she began.

“You don’t have to thank me, Charlotte,” he said, with that slow smile that lit his face, no matter how late the hour, how exhausted he might otherwise be. She loved it about him, though she daren’t say it.

“Yes, I do. I’d given up, I didn’t even think to send anyone for you.”

“Well, if I do say so myself, me being here made a difference tonight,” he said.

“Of course,” she replied, a little confused at the repetition, distracted by the encroaching anxiety of the next day, of how to feed them all, and clothe them…

“That is, you told me I ought to go. And if I had, if I’d listened, there wouldn’t have been anyone to help you tonight. To help that girl,” he said, bold as he rarely was. He was leaning forward and she felt how he wanted her to lean right back in towards him, how he wanted to be praised and fussed over. It wasn’t so very much to want but it seemed more than she had to give.

“No, there wouldn’t. Still doesn’t change my opinion, that you’re wasting your chance,” she said, watching his face become still, shuttered.

“I just saved that girl’s life,” he said brusquely.

“Yes. You saved her. But how many more could you save if you were trained? If you could train others? Dr. Foster’s willing to speak for you, but there’s not many like him. If you were a doctor, you could train others, even if a medical school wouldn’t accept them because there was no white man to put them forward, you could teach them. How many lives would be saved then, Samuel Diggs? How many Mamies and Leoras…and Charlottes?” she retorted, not bothering to keep the frustration from her voice as she might with another, an intimacy she hardly thought he’d count.

“Charlotte! That’s not fair!” he exclaimed.

“Haven’t you learned yet it isn’t about fair? About deserving? Mary Foster’s a dear woman, a dear friend to me, but did she somehow deserve to have Jed Foster move heaven and earth to save her, running up to Boston, ready to break every law? More than Mamie, a sweet child who never did anyone any harm? Do those girls from Savannah deserve to wake hungry tomorrow, glad for a bowl of porridge Mary Foster’d throw to a pig? Oh, help me Jesus say some sense to this man, for I’ve just about run out of words,” Charlotte said, letting herself speak without measuring the weight of every syllable, the impact of every phrase. She felt the burden of caring for the people who’d escaped weighing on her, a weight she ought to bear gladly. She felt wild to have said it and relieved and shamed; she wished, just for a moment, that he’d say nothing in return but take her into his arms and pat her back, reassuring her without cause but with his whole heart. That she could lay her head down for once and truly rest.

“What do you need?” Samuel asked, startling her a little with his abrupt question, its lack of elaboration or soothing.

“What?”

“What do you need to take care of them all? Tell me,” he replied.

“Why?”

“Because you should have asked me before. Because as long as I’m here, I want to help you,” he said.

“Oh.”

“Oh, yes. Now, tell me, Charlotte, what do you need?” he said, gazing at her steadily, waiting.

“There’s not enough food. Beans and turnips, that’d be riches. Cornmeal, salt, some dried fruit. Sorghum,” she said as if she were reciting a grocery list, a letter she had not been able to bring herself to write to the Aid Society.

“What else?”

“Cloth. Calico or linsey-woolsey. Quinine. Soap… or at least some lye so we can make out own. A half-dozen needles and some thread. Bandages,” she replied, giddy with it now, unable to keep from imagining it all in a chest, a treasure chest like she’d envisioned the Wise Men bringing when she’d been taught the Bible story, traveling such a long way with such precious cargo. If she had all that—or even half, what could she do with it?

“I’ll get it for you,” he said.

“What’re you talking about? Have you lost your wits?”

“Not at all. But what you want, it isn’t impossible. It’s who you ask, who you’ve got to talk to,” he said gently.

“Who you’ve got to talk to, Samuel?” she put back to him. He couldn’t mean Bullen, the steward who’d died a few weeks ago and was universally as unlamented as a cholera epidemic.

“The Fosters. I’ll speak to Dr. Foster tomorrow. It may take a few days to get it all, but they will,” he said calmly, as if it were nothing.

“Easy as that?” she snapped.

“Could be. Would have been if you’d spoken to Miz Mary. Maybe she won’t get all of it but some. She doesn’t have to write to the Aid Society, though I venture she will. Dr. Foster’s got money and Miz Mary knows how to spend it. Spend it right. You watch, she’ll get all you want and more, you should get ready for some mathematical textbooks or a cask of molasses, and it’ll be nothing but a grin on Dr. Foster’s face to make it happen, he’s that far gone—not that she’s not a sweet, kindly woman, but he thinks she walks on water. He’ll see it as the smallest favor, seeing as he only got to her in time because I told him to go,” Samuel said. “He’s brilliant but he was nothing but a fool before, risking her and he’s figured it out now. It’s lucky for him she’s not greedy or proud.”

“Why, Sam!” Charlotte couldn’t help crying out in laughter, halfway to tears.

“D’you know, that’s the first time I can recall you calling me Sam,” he said, smiling like it was first thing in the morning and she was better to see than the rising sun. “Kind of like it,” he added, watching her closely in a way that made her warm—and shiver. She felt herself moving closer to him, the space between them becoming alive.

“You do?”

“Yeah. Sounds…friendly,” he said in a lower voice. Seemed he was moving nearer too and she didn’t mind, no, not at all.

“Well, we are, aren’t we? When I think of all you’ve done for me, how thankful I am,” she said, lifting her hand to touch him. His bare forearm perhaps or his shoulder. Or maybe she would have let her hand rest on his cheek, her eyes on his lips. She might have if he hadn’t drawn back at her last words, breaking whatever it was between them in the space of a heartbeat.

“It’s not like that, Charlotte. You don’t owe me anything,” he said evenly.

“Maybe not owe, but I can’t forget what you’ve done, what you do,” she said.

“Friendship’s not a tally. Not a debt. Not for me,” he said. She’d hurt him and hadn’t meant to. She could wish for things to be simple, wouldn’t make them so. She reached her hand out again and took his, the one that had held the scalpel, that he used to rub his eyes when he was tired. She saw he didn’t know what to make of it but she didn’t want him to let go.

“Not for me, either. Sam,” she said, still holding on to him, letting him hold on to her. “If you go, I’ll surely miss you,” she offered. He grasped her hand more tightly, the strength in him controlled, the gentleness unconcealed.

“If? Or when?” he replied. She looked away then, unable to bear the question. To voice an answer.

#mercy street #season 3 that never was #charlotte jenkins #samuel diggs #phoster #19th century medicine #american civil war #charlotte/samuel #scene 1 #angsty #romance #plus moodboard #samuel & mary #mary phinney #jed foster #I checked and tracheotomies were known in the 19th century #though not common #diphtheria

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alainawriteswwe · 7 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice and Wrestling

Pride and Prejudice and Wrestling – Part 1

Characters: Seth Rollins x Reader, Sasha Banks, Bayley

Summary: When a superstar Hollywood actress (The Reader), interacts with WWE Superstar Seth Rollins at Monday Night Raw, sparks fly. Can Rollins overcome his pride and convince the reader to take a chance on him when she’s still recovering from a nasty scandal caused by her cheating fiancé?

Warnings: Lots of flirting, angsty longing and maybe some bad words.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a wrestler, in possession of good talent, must be in want of a Championship.

Chapter 1: First Impressions

He was just as egotistical as he seemed on tv.

It was impossible not to think that when he stood there lording it over all the other superstars backstage at the arena as if he owned the place. Seth Freakin’ Rollins. Even the name screamed that he was full of himself. Six foot one inches and 217 pounds of pure ego. Didn’t Ambrose call him that once? It made sense. Over confidence my name is Seth. It seemed to ooze from every pore of him. It was just too bad that in addition to the ego, he was also insanely hot.

That was impossible to ignore as I pretended not to look at him. But dear lord the man had presence. There was a aura and a sex appeal that seemed to radiate from him oh so easily. Not an easy feat when there were fit, handsome men all around.

Looking at him my brain reminded me that men like him; cocky, arrogant, sexy in the extreme, were dangerous. I had first hand experience of it. What did it get me? A shameful breakup on the front page of the tabloids and an embarrassing sex scandal I could not live down.

Yet, even though my brain was working overtime with dire warnings, my loins were ignoring them. They focused on other things like sending heat to my core to create that tell-tale tingle that signaled excitement and arousal.

Even in his street clothes he looked sexy. The simple tight-fitting Black Craft t-shirt that showed off his biceps. The messily perfect man bun slung low on the back of his dark head, the deep chocolatey brown eyes that could flash ego but also great warmth seemed terribly inviting.

And how could I not focus on the pair of black skinny jeans that curved to every inch of those spectacular legs of his. I have to admit, legs were always my weakness on a man. Long, muscular, strong. The kind of legs that were strong enough to support some really interesting standing sexual positions. My mind wandered naughtily, picturing me enjoying those particular positions with Seth. It was too much really to take in.

I wanted to look away from him but I couldn’t. So I watched him surreptitiously as he interacted with some VIP fans as they got their photo with him and the other superstars.

But that quick, sweet tilting of the lips he displayed with the fans grew decidedly into a smirk when he caught me looking at him. Oh God. It was written all over my face wasn’t it? Desire in all its torturous forms. I turned away quickly and focused all my attention to the script I had been given for tonight’s episode of Raw. I could feel my heart race from the embarrassment of the situation. And now he was walking towards me. All that brash cockiness fully focused on me.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the current Princess of Hollywood. I heard you were here tonight to host Raw and promote your new movie.” He held out his hand, “Hi, I’m Seth Rollins.” The cocky swagger in his normally annoying nasally voice should have been a turn off but damn if it wasn’t borderline seductive.

“I know who you are,” I said in what I hoped sounded like a normaI, disaffected voice. I didn’t take his hand in greeting. Way too dangerous to touch him. “We met once at a charity function WWE was hosting last year. Stephanie introduced us.”

He didn’t remember meeting me! Of course he didn’t. Ouch! I tried not to look disappointed by that. Not in a “don’t you know who I am” way a lot of Hollywood actors adopted but in a “of course he would never look at me or remember me kind of way.”

I immediately looked back down at my script, memorizing the brief lines I had been given. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

Seth was about to say something. His face indicating he was about to lay on the charm when a savior suddenly appeared.

“Lay off, Rollins,” Sasha said as she handed me an ice cold water. Perfect to help me cool off in presence of The Kingslayer. “You don’t need to crowd our guest host.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “I am just being polite, Sasha. As the uh, face of the company it is my role to greet our guests.”

Sasha’s eyes crinkled with mischief at Seth, the way a little sister would find a way to torture her older brothers. “Face of the company? Then I should get Roman or maybe Cena. Brock of course is not around.”

Seth put a hand to his chest as if he had been actually wounded by her barbed words. “You just gonna knock me down like that Sash. Come on, man. And in front of our distinguished guest.”

He waved a hand at me and flashed a sexy grin that made me wonder what his kisses would be like. Would they be filled with a devouring, all consuming passion? I wanted to find out even though I was trying desperately not to show it.I tried not to smile at either of them.

Sasha sat down next to me and looked at my script. “Who are you working with tonight? I’m betting it’s The Miz considering the whole Hollywood angle.”

Seth cleared his throat, stroking his beard in a theatrical way.

“Oh it’s you,” Sasha noted at her friend, looking a little shocked.

Seth gave a little bow. “Yes. She is working with me,” he answered smugly. “Ambrose and I crash the Miz TV segment with her.”

“A-ha.” Sasha poked him in the chest. “Ultimately I am right.”

I chuckled at their banter. Life on the road had obviously made them good friends. Friendship was something I was sorely lacking after the scandal broke. Friendship was always fickle in Hollywood but it was non existent during a scandal, unless there was more money to be made off the story.

“Well, face of the company or not I accept your warm welcome,” I answered to Seth. “It is really interesting to see all this backstage life we don’t see on camera.”

Damn. I let that slip. I didn’t mean to let folks know I was a total fan. On set while I waited for scenes to be set up or during long mornings in the makeup trailer, I whiled away hours watching old eps of Raw and Smackdown. But I was also fluent about what was going on today. I knew all the storylines and I had my very particular thoughts on how to improve the bookings.

So it was fascinating to see how the superstars interacted with each other, killed time and prepared for the show. It was way better than eating a fancy fruit platter in isolation in the green room of a late night talk show.

Seth looked triumphant. “Ahh, so you’re a fan huh. Who is your favorite superstar?” That smug grin went all the way to his dark inviting eyes this time. Too damn sexy for sure! “From the current roster. Male, if you please.” He had thrust his hands in his pants as he made his demands and that caused me to check out his jeans, so tight fitting and distracting.

I gave him the dreamiest stare I could. “Roman Reigns. Strong. All those muscles and with eyes that pierce you. That hair. He’s a god. The kind you want to throw you over his shoulder and carry you away. He is so commanding in the ring and those spears look painful. But then you know all about that seeing as you faced him in the ring as his ‘little brother’. You remember that don’t you, Seth?”

Sasha snorted with laughter. For a moment I thought she was gonna do a spit take with her bottle of water.

The cocky grin on Seth’s face slipped just a little bit. I scored a hit. “Second favorite.”

“Mmm,” I pretended to think a moment. “Cesaro. Ahh yes. The Swiss Superman. Strips out of his clothes. Unstoppable with Sheamus. He also seems adorable on Twitter with his love of coffee.”

Sasha just guffawed again, covering her exquisite abs with her hands as she tried to not bend over with laughter. “Do you dare ask her for her third favorite Seth or will you continue to bruise your ego?”

Now challenged, Seth refused to back down. He leaned in close to me, placing both his hands on the arms of my chair. I tried not to greedily inhale his scent which was clean with hints of musk. Definitely a cologne I knew even if the name escaped me.

How could I think when he was looking at me with those deep, hooded eyes of his. Bedroom eyes. They gave me their full power and intensity, daring me to say something other than his name as my answer. It made me think what it would be like to look up into those eyes while I called out his name in another setting.

Mistake! My body was switched on between his proximity, those damn eyes of his, and his scent. There was an arrow of electricity arcing to my core as he looked at me so intently. I wanted desperately to cross my legs or leave this scene and escape to a private place where I could touch myself and think of him. He hadn’t touched me and yet I felt marked by him. Branded. His.

He stayed leaned in, refusing to increase the space between us. The tension amped up. His beakish nose seemed arrogantly tilted as he noticed my nipples hardening against the designer fabric of my top. He silently dared me to answer.

I couldn’t resist letting a smaller smile slip. “Braun Strowman.”

“Touché,” he said. His words a warm caress against my skin. And then he straightened up. Away from me. No! I felt stripped by him and now he was pulling away and taking that intense sexual aura with him

“I could keep going,” I said, determined to strike fully at his ego. “Mmm, AJ, Baron, ooh Kevin Owens. Now he’s a fantastic heel. The Usos. Oh definitely Neville is high up on a top ten list. That whole dominant king gimmick is great.” It was my turn for a smug smile to light up my face.

Hands on his hips, Seth perfected an annoyed pout as he nodded his head with my still growing list.

Sasha was still laughing. “Stop it please. I’m laughing so hard my cheeks hurt.”

She looked up at Seth. He had gone from a pouting look to a sad puppy look. It was a ruse of course but there was some truth visible that his exclusion from my list hurt.

“So no Seth Freakin’ Rollins on her list at all. Poor Sethie,” Sasha said. She got up and gave him a hug.

Jealousy coursed through me as her arms innocently curled around that neck of his and I turned away before the bastard caught the frustration on my face.

“You can stop calling me Sethie. The punishment for losing that bet ended a month ago Miss Banks.”

“And as for you Miss Hollywood Princess, you will find that Seth Freakin’ Rollins is ‘The Man’ in WWE, even if he isn’t on your list.”

He looked me over. “Unless there is another list you want to put me at the top of,” he said with a wink.

“Egomaniacs anonymous?,” I answered blandly, not resisting the witty repartee between us. In the movies this would be a “meet cute” but there was nothing cute about it. Certainly you could have a “meet lust” right?

“Our meetings wouldn’t be anonymous. We are egomaniacs. We want people to know what we do. We crave attention. Being desired. And anyway, we meet on Wednesday evenings if you want to come by. As a Hollywood A-lister I bet there is quite a lot of ego in you too. You can bring The Miz with you.”

I laughed at that. Okay, so we had better stop our jousting game of tit for tat.

“At least you didn’t mention Bálor on your list.” Seth looked at me a moment, all humor and smuggness gone from his face, his eyes serious and hard. “I’m serious. Stay away from him.”

There was a chill to his tone that I was not going to submit to. “You don’t own me, Kingslayer.”

Seth was about to answer when Bayley bounced over, all smiles. She slid a arm around Seth’s waist in a friendly pseudo hug. “What’s going on? I can hear Sasha laughing all the way in Catering.

I decided to fill her in. “I was just telling Seth Freakin’ Rollins here that he has no right to tell me to stay away from Finn Bálor. He doesn’t own me.”

A nervous chuckle escaped Bayley’s lips at the mention of Finn. She didn’t comment. Only tugged on Seth’s arm to leave. “It’s our turn on the ping pong table. We should go.”

Seth gave Bayley a smile that was protective. He hugged her closer and turned to walk away but of course he had to get in the last word. He turned his head to call out to me, “Next time we hang out I want you to ask me to name all my favorite Hollywood actresses. You may be surprised by my answers.”

Then he was gone. Those sexy thighs of his carrying him off to play ping pong and not torture me with his presence. I suddenly felt adrift.

“That was priceless,” Sasha said as she sank down into her chair again and flipped her vibrantly hued hair over her shoulder. She looked over at me. “Don’t worry about Seth. He’s just messing with you. It’s part of his charm.”

“Humph, I don’t know about charm but he definitely makes an interesting first impression.”

Sasha leaned in and looked at me conspiratorially. “Oh come on, I would have to be as blind as a ref to not see the sparks between you two.”

I dropped my gaze, unable to meet her inquisitive stare. “Oh, I am not in the market for a boyfriend right now. Things were pretty bad with my recent breakup.”

Sasha put her hand over mine. We had only met earlier in the day but she already felt like a confidant. “I know. It must be hard having the world know your business. Making assumptions.”

“It is. But its also hard to know who to trust, if you know what I mean.”

“I do. Being a woman in the company is hard. People make up all sorts of reasons for why you advanced up the ranks. None of it comforting.”

I nodded my head. I had been there too although in a different setting.

“Well you still need to shake off the ‘ring rust’ relationship wise and you are interested in my boy, Rollins.” The way Sasha said it, the words were more statement than question.

I bowed my head. Damn. It was that obvious. “I don’t know.”

Sasha however was not going to be denied. “Look, after the show we are all gonna go to a bar and relax, do some karaoke. Come with us and hang out. Seth will be there.”

I furrowed my brow. “I’m not looking for some long term relationship.”

“I’m not saying till death do you part girl. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, even if its only for one night.” She did a little dance in her chair, excited by her matchmaking attempts.

Even though I didn’t know Sasha long, I felt like she was an old friend. The kind where you might not see them for years but when you do get together you fall immediately back into a comfortable rhythm. The kind that wanted to see you happy with no ulterior motive. “I feel its best that I’m just off men right now.”

“Okay. There are some hot girls on the roster who might be just the ticket.”

“I blushed. I didn’t mean like that.”

“Look, breakups are hard. Your ex was a ass for what he did to you and to be so public about it. But don’t give up on the human race because of it.”

She paused a beat. “Is it true you are taking a hiatus from acting for awhile?”

“Yeah. This is my last bit of contracted promotion and honestly I needed to get out of Hollywood for a bit.” Especially from the pitying glances of folks I met there.

Also, the possibility of running into my ex and having it filmed by some gossip rag terrified me. It wasn’t so much a hiatus as much as it was a self imposed exile.

Sasha was going to press though. Not out of nosiness but a desire to help and empathize. It was best to change the subject.

“So what’s the damage between Seth and Finn?”

Sasha sighed. “I don’t know all of it. They are both insanely talented and competitive. All I know is that their kayfabe feud became real.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It happens. WWE is a company but it’s also a family. You have to be family to allow someone to take control of your body in the ring. You have to have trust. When that is gone, well things get dangerous.”

“Have they ever physically fought like backstage, not in the ring?”

Sasha shook her head. The cascade of colorful waves settling around her shoulders perfectly. “Oh no. That’s a first class ticket to being fired around here. You can’t put your hands on someone. That would be throwing away your career.” She paused. “But enough about that. What does a girl have to do to get you to come out and sing karaoke?”

“Easy. Allow me to take down Seth Freakin’ Rollins in song form for calling me a Hollywood Princess.”

Sasha laughed. “Done.”

#seth rollins #seth rollins fanfic #seth rollins fan fiction #seth rollins imagine #wwe #wwe raw

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kestrelsward · 7 years

Text

across the sea

Pairing: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso

Word Count: 1343

Setting: Royalty!AU (prince!Cassian; smuggler!Jyn)

[review on ao3 please? or any fic requests? love to hear what you guys think x ]

He is busy loathing Krennic that even as Cassian manages to press the side of his face against the piece of concrete, the next shot still catches the cartilage of his right ear and he hears the bone break.

"Cassian!" and that shout saves his life. Recklessly, he searches the source of her voice, and sees her diving towards him, and the slick twist in the arch of her wrist with his trusted pistol towards Krennic. It lands in his left shoulder and Krennic's cry buys her enough time to go on all fours, crawls to the edge of the broken bridge and grasps Cassian's arms.

Cassian allows his shock to distract him, his fingers finding purchase in his coat on her. The fur lining on the cap is damp from the rain, but the rest smells of Jyn, and he inhales briefly and feels the puff of her scent ricochet deep in his lungs.

"Remind me to thank you later." he huffs, so close to Jyn that her green eyes flutters close for one brief second and leans forward to brush her forehead against his: "If you live through this." she murmurs, and then their time is up - a joint in her arm cracks but Cassian is hauled up by Jyn back over the ledge, and he crumbles into her waist. His fingers, scraped raw, touches her exposed skin and comes out too warm.

"Get to cover!" Jyn is yelling into his good ear, pulls on his shoulder to straighten him from his crouch, and pushes him on the back forward to the pillar on the side of the bridge.

"Bodhi! Now!"

Something manages to stupidly ignite within their proximity; he is not the only one who shouts as a flash of light so strong it must have burned his eyes to the back of his head blasts him backwards, and his back reaches the side of the bridge first, and he crumbles; he can't draw breath- his lungs must have left him, too.

The familiar ringing, the tearing through his temples, and hands on his cheeks catches him before he drifts.

"You're leaving with me, Jyn." Cassian tries to blink the blood - whose blood is it? - from his eyes, and only her trembling hands, brushing his fringe away, seems to help, but he thinks his mind is playing tricks on him because her face is drifting further away.

His head isn't making sense of it when he hears her murmur, "I'm not meant to." - she makes it sound like a goodbye, but her lingering hold on his hand, gone only abruptly as her friend yanks on his waist, and his eyes tries to track her, but he only manages to see her clutch at her stomach before he is jerked sideways and he goes down with it -

The brown in her hair is almost molten copper in the setting sun, and he reaches for it before he can stop himself and before she notices, so he expects when his fingers cards through her loosen hair, she will push his arm away.

He sucks in a breath when she doesn't: instead, she turns her face to him and shifts her body closer to his in the seat.

"Did you ever imagine... being chased away from everything you know," her head sinks into his shoulder and as he stares down at her, his chin grazes her temple, "Everything that distinguishes you from everyone and everything else. That you somehow... manages to escape."

He stays still, to process his own words carefully: "At what cost - that is what I let myself think, first. Then the rest- they never gets thought about."

She is just at the right height to nudge her cheek to his collarbone, "You're the most selfless person I've ever met." She swings her legs up over his lap, and he automatically adjusts her skirt and she gives him the twinkle of her laugh as her point made and proven. He returns her tease by rapping his knuckles over her kneecaps.

She yelps, her fingers curling into his shirt; Jyn is a head shorter than him, and built lithe and small that as she scrunches her legs up in reflex, she is a ball, burrowing into him, her side pressed into him. He lets her, because he may never find the right words to beg her to.

"I don't know who I was before all this." The waves crashing against the ship covers his confession, but he doesn't intend for anyone but the girl in his arms to hear. "Who I am now... perhaps my punishment may be lessened."

She looks at him, then, and Cassian wishes he is less impulsive around her: he can't understand what she is trying to say with her eyes. He is afraid she will confess to why she is risking her life sailing him across the oceans, that if everything that has happened hasn't, he might never know his existence's worth is to cross paths with her.

"Take it as whatever you want," she exhales, and it sounds like the beginning of a mockery, "You should never think of what you want to live with, or a life you get to have sole control, because then the universe will always find another direction to go. Trust in fate. This... this force of nature. You can't fight something that's meant to be."

"Who are you," he pulls at a lock of her hair and lets the wind rearranges it back against her shoulder, "and what have you done to Jyn Hallik?"

Her throat works - in the way he knows it's her way of hiding more of her from him - "It is what my mother used to say," but she uses his shirt as leverage and turns to face him. "- besides, I don't take my own advice, anyway."

"One's past is not enough to condemn him, then?" He lowers his eyes and says it as nonchalantly as possible. "You should... because maybe I will."

She is shaking her head, her smile brims from the corners of her mouth, and he is close enough to hear her front teeth rake over her tongue. Her hair, the top of of it wrapped in a loosening bun, the bottom half, unruly, thick and cascades down her shoulders, and smells of the ocean it makes him dizzy, makes him want to drift away wherever she will take him, makes him forget who he has to be, wants to be just Cassian -

She is the one who leans in first: her kiss lands at the corner of his mouth, and she sucks in a breath that has her lower lip run along his scruff, then her fingers slides into the side of his face, and then she replaces her forefinger with her lips to meet his.

He lets her do what she did not intend to perfect: steal the words from his mouth, steal his breath, steal his mind, take his soul -

"Mon Mothma, there is news from General Gerrera. It's Jyn Erso."

Her cup against the crisp china saucer makes Cassian go rigid. He grips the fork tighter and the sensitive and raw skin over his knuckles pulls.

It still sounds so foreign to him, knowing Jyn is related to one of the top scientists of his grandmother's cabinet; this concept that she and him have always existed in the same realm, their paths never crossed, yet intertwined. He has prioritized his time to think about the what-ifs, and that weight in his chest rattles out a bare breath.

His grandmother pursed her lips, but nevertheless, signals Captain Draven to move forward.

"Miz Erso has been found. She is on her way here, accompanied by Lord Organa and company-"

As if his legs is carrying him across the deck - his tailbone is numb from sitting pin-straight, and it is difficult for him to push himself up on his bad leg - but he moves forward to catch the crashing sound of waves, to recover the path towards the greenland in his ocean.

A/N: can also take this as a rough draft of the work-in-progress Anastasia!au... ? ;)

#rebelcaptain #au: this world or any other #rebelcaptain fanfiction #therebelcaptainnetwork #dailyrebelcaptain #who am i posting fics in a week #mine*

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entergamingxp · 4 years

Text

Five of the Best: E3 conferences • Eurogamer.net

Five of the Best is a weekly series about the small details we rush past when we’re playing but which shape a game in our memory for years to come. Details like the way a character jumps or the title screen you load into, or the potions you use and maps you refer back to. We’ve talked about so many in our Five of the Best series so far. But there are always more.

Five of the Best works like this. Various Eurogamer writers will share their memories in the article and then you – probably outraged we didn’t include the thing you’re thinking of – can share the thing you’re thinking of in the comments below. Your collective memory has never failed to amaze us – don’t let that stop now!

This week we’d usually have been arguing about – I’m sorry I mean debating – all the big announcements from E3. True, we had Sony’s PlayStation 5 reveal yesterday and it was very exciting, and true, we have a bonanza of PC game events to look forward to this weekend, but it’s not quite the same is it? Covid-19 means the world’s gaming industry couldn’t squash into downtown LA to see Microsoft and Sony reveal their fancy new machines, and the big publishers show their games for them.

Then again, we do get to look forward to another event – Microsoft’s – later this summer, and who knows? Maybe spreading it out will become a better way of doing things. But I will always miss the hubbub, the excitement and the intense drama of live E3. So in honour of an event which may never return in quite the same way, let’s relive some drama from the past! Hooray! Here are some of the best moments from E3 press conferences gone by. Have a lovely weekend.

The emotional The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess reveal

It was 2004. Nintendo fans the world over were just putting down their pitchforks over the cel-shaded redesign of Zelda: Wind Waker, just finishing an enjoyable E3 presentation, when the booming voice of Reggie announced a now much-copied “one more thing…”

As the first shots of Hyrule from Zelda: Twilight Princess appeared on-screen, the crowd fell silent as they drank in the view. And then Link appeared, riding on horseback, sword raised to the sky, and screams filled the room.

I remember watching this reveal as a teenager, bedroom walls plastered with Lord of the Rings posters, getting goosebumps at the thought of a true Ocarina of Time sequel. The sight of Miyamoto on stage, wielding a sword himself. Link has grown up, he acknowledged, and in this new game will look different, act different.

It’s odd to look back on now – Wind Waker has aged into the fan-favourite, while Twilight Princess turned into a moody take the series simply grew up from – but this was Nintendo giving fans exactly what they wanted at the time.

-Tom

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Microsoft getting over excited about Xbox Kinect

Oh, which Kinect E3 moment to pick? Is it the unveiling of Project Natal, pumped full of hot air and celebrity endorsements from the likes of Steven Spielberg? Maybe it’s those faked gameplay videos, or the mad, wooly promise of Project Milo? Or how about when Microsoft donned the entire industry in glow-in-the-dark ponchos and made us endure an outrageously pompous reveal? No, for me Kinect is best summed up in eight short seconds as Kudo Tsunoda tried to show us what the bottom of an Xbox Avatar’s shoe looked like – the resulting contortions gave us a searingly accurate take on one of Xbox’s biggest failures to date.

-Martin

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The one where legends came true

I don’t know if it had anything to do with it being the middle of the night here and delirium setting in but I’ve never seen a reaction like I did to Sony’s E3 2015 conference.

It started with a bang. Suddenly, The Last Guardian was before us, a game that had been missing in action for years, but here it was looking like a full and proper thing, and there was a release date, a year away. And to top it off, Fumito Ueda was in the audience, making any suspicions of squabbles with Sony seem to disappear.

Then, and people might forget this, we got our first look at Horizon: Zero Dawn, followed by a string of notable other big games, No Man’s Sky included. The conference was going really well. But it was about to go up a notch.

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Cue a CGI trailer for a brand new game we began to slowly recognise. A dove flying through a familiar-looking cityscape. Tetsuya Nomura’s name. A steamy sewer. A man with a minigun for an arm. Oh my god. A slim man behind him with a huge sword slung over his back. Oh my god. And as the camera panned up the sword became unmistakable. It was Cloud Strife’s. It was Final Fantasy 7. Fade to black. But was this game?

Then the words appeared: Remake. The room and internet erupted.

But Sony wasn’t finished yet. It’s funny looking back through Martin’s live text report now. “At this rate we’ll be getting Shenmue 3,” he joked after the Final Fantasy 7 reveal. Guess what? We did.

-Bertie

Backwards compatibility is finally a standard

Look I know it’s not the glitziest moment we’ve ever had, I know it’s not Keanu Reeves telling people they’re awesome, but it’s a moment with a deeper underlying importance for consoles overall.

It’s a moment from last year, from Microsoft, from when Phil Spencer was on stage talking about Project Scarlett, the machine machine we now know as Xbox Series X.

“Last year,” he said, “the team decided to tackle a feature that’s been consistently at the top of your request lists, and while we weren’t sure it was possible, today I’m pleased to announce Xbox One backwards compatibility.”

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It took a moment to settle in. We can play Xbox One games on Xbox Series X just like that. Pop in the disc and away we go, no additional faff required to play the games you already own. Forwards-compatibility, I heard someone call it. It’s how things should be but not have they have been in recent years (although as people in the comments below pointed out and I overlooked, the Wii U would play Wii games, and earlier consoles offered backwards compatibility too).

I wonder if that moment influenced Sony having PlayStation 5 follow suit with backwards compatibility or if it was already part of the plan. Regardless, thank you.

At last.

-Bertie

Ubisoft being Ubisoft

As well as making the most exhaustive open-world games around, Ubisoft’s real job is saving E3 from corporate blandness every single year. There have been misfires but with dancing bears and the brilliant presence of Aisha Tyler, this is the publisher that tends to get E3 right – a celebration of games in all their forms.

Favourite moments are too many to mention. I am particularly fond of a lengthy break in proceedings one year to reintroduce laser tag to the world. But then there was that glorious Miyamoto and Rabbids bit, the solidarity-against-Vivendi stuff, and my two favourite moments of E3 ever. The first involved Antti from RedLynx marching towards the stage only to face-plant into the podium to massive applause. The second is when the curtains came up on Miz, back to the audience, white gloves – do I remember white gloves? – conducting a level of Child of Eden. Every year Ubisoft reminds us that games are brilliant. Girl. Wood.

-Christian

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from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/06/five-of-the-best-e3-conferences-%e2%80%a2-eurogamer-net/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=five-of-the-best-e3-conferences-%25e2%2580%25a2-eurogamer-net

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korivalthedarkone · 5 years

Text

The Deluge of Souls

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The frozen waterfall to the north of the outpost has been shattered, replaced with an inky river known as the Deluge of Souls. Thanks to Mourne, the late Haden Lightwing and a mysterious Revenant, the Deluge was diverted to southeastern Icecrown before it could wash over the outpost.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Alright. Small force here with the wards, myself, two volunteers? The rest of you will be the flanking attack, up there to the southwest of where I stand. When the enemy is trapped in the wards here, unleash hell."

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon raises a hand. "I can help you Mourne."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Raising his hand, "I shall aid you, sir."

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: Tyr takes a deep breath. "Think you'll need a bolster, brother?"

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: "I'll stand near the gate to manage the illusion and the false breach."

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakhara looks at Tyr. "Do you wish me to stay with the menders, or aid Captain Sunblaze, sir?"

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne nods. "Good, Galdanir. Everyone understand the plan? Unleash hell once they are trapped, be wary of the void-falls, mind the corrupted."

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: Tyr shakes his head hard. "Don't worry about staying with the menders. Hit the enemy and hit them hard."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Sunfall - you are the defense of the flanking group."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Aye sir. You'll be safe."

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: The orc nods at Tyr and moves off toward the others.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Me? Hah, no, I am bait. Flanking group, go."

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Eyes aglow with arcane magic, Galdanir raises a hand toward the barrier just beyond the gate. "At your command, Champion."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera tugs her eredar skull down over her features, fel green eyes peering through the eye holes in an eerie fashion. "Right. Give 'em hell, hear that Bacon?" The ray does a backflip.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "At two minutes after flank group moves. Go. Flank, everyone who is not staying with me."

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylora nods to Otrera. "Put as many holes as we can in them. I don't want them able to walk or flee."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Right!"

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: "I'll be going out onto the field.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Deluge of Souls whispers this eve. It weaves tales of oncoming storm, of the truth behind the black clouds swirling above the Argent outpost, of the rites and rituals spanning the frozen expanse of Northrend’s bloodstained shores and all the land between them. Time itself drags at the edges, stretched taut over the unnatural shadowy growths that plague these lands. The snow falls and winds pound, black flakes the frozen teardrops of a madman’s unhinged laughter.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: ~"Prepare yourself, 194th. Sunwell guide."~

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Night has fallen far too early. It’s not the cool shade of blanketing clouds or the light-framed pool of an eclipse: it’s darkness enduring and eternal, such that day itself might be easily forgotten and that the ill-fated denizens of the midnight hours ascend from their daytime haunts. The snows part around a rider who approaches from the north, hood drawn, his steed black as midnight; his frame marks him Human. He is flanked by two hulking figures, hunched against the elements as their leathery, rune-etched skin is battered by void snow.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne raises his arms, starting to alter the wards, as if he is struggling - and yet upping his own power... a tasty lure, a wondrous distraction.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The hooded figure projects his voice-- except it’s not louder, per se, only closer, as borne by the winds and snow falling and annihilation with the wards. It comes through muffled. “Wolves of the Pack; Sheep of the Herd. I approach with Julgar, son of Julgen, on behalf of the great Lord of Shadow, seeking terms of surrender.”

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Though he's vanished from sight, a faint shimmer, like heat rising from the asphalt, marks the space along the wall where the magister waits.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: They crack and surge. "He Who Seeks accepts your surrender. Return my Crown."

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: "What an odd fellow..."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera frowns, gun in hand, though her eyes are briefly on the sky, the song. Shaking her head, she grumbles something to Bacon.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: Tyr holds up a hand for silence among the ambush team.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo tugs down her goggles, the lenses whirring quietly as they zoom in on the others.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Peals of laughter break on the howling wind, augment it, become it. "You humor the Dark One. He asks only your life, Shepherd, and that of your Wolf-- and one other that can be salvaged another day."

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon stands, acting as Mourne's big strong guard.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral squints at the gathering activity farther down back into the camp and north of it.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "You know what I belong to, and it is not you and yours. Fools, apostates. We deny you."

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: The wards shudder beneath the constant onslaught.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: The healer narrowed her gaze as she squinted towards the camp. "Light heed me," she whispered.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Her eyes are closed, and she awaits the queue to strike. She's dead silent, even her breathing practically gone. She's listening...

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Fuckin' shit..." she stamps her feet in the cold. Something doesn't feel right, and her gut churns. "Bacon, we should've retired back after the Siege..."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Still, his own wards rise and crack, his own power roiling. To those who are attuned to shadow, it sings almost sweetly, but faint.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "So be it. Ye of thin flesh and limited blood, of great faith and little understanding, rejoice. You have come to our home, now, and your incursion will be spurned." The void snow becomes tidal waves of raw magic, of life essence siphoned and tortured by the encroaching and all-consuming madness of Void. It breaks across the wards, eats, sunders.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne's stance shudders, his wards can be felt as they -crack- against the northeast... but then he quickly tries to stem the tide.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Gritting his teeth, he reflectively closes his right eye against the masses of darkness sweeping upon the wards, his ears twitch back in irritation but still, he waits.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: It is falling, falling, clearly he seems to struggle now in his fight.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: The mender captain is silent and still as a stone.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Void is nigh sentient as it seeks and pries at the cracks in the defenses. Meanwhile, from the north-- just beyond the Deluge of Souls-- a war horn sounds, loud and primal against the winds. "SHADESKORN!" comes the voice, somehow piercing the storm. "CHARGE!"

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne's wards crack at the northwest now too, starting to crumble. "Damnit, no!"

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: There, facing the waterfall; a fracture in the magister's fine spell. The arcane that supported Mourne's Light and Shadow is run through with darkening cracks. It shatters like so much glass, dissolving as it crumbles before the shadeskorn.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Chuckling to himself, the hooded rider turns and rides north. His allies follow-- and are crossed by the horde of Vrykul mounted on their shade worgs, those crude amalgams of flesh and magic, chomping at the proverbial bit to sink serrated teeth in the flesh of elves.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne skitters backwards, appearing to frantically try to get the wards up. "No, no no!"

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon raises his own hands, pretending to help bolster the shields.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The first worgs crash headlong into the wards-- wards that are not yet *quite* broken and, as such, spur the insurgents from their mounts, where they inhale snow and crack ribs upon landing.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Aqev... aqev- hul bala miz rilakhich..." The wards crack just a bit as each one hits, appearing to crumble.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "AZ'HAL ITAR HUL RILATUR NYRGADUUL."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: The wards that Mourne holds shatter and crack- in the north, at least.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The worgs have taken to burrowing at the wards, over and over, until steaming droplets of shadowy blood spill from their eyes and nose, from ears and chest...

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo quietly draws an arrow from her quiver, preparing to help clear the way for those below, when the time came.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Another voice, this one very mortal, sounds over the winds. "SHADESKORN, FLANK NORTH!" And so north they flank; some of the riders carry rope bookended with hooks, and it's this they use to toss over the walls and prepare to scale. Meanwhile a veritable

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: army of mounted Vrykul 'cavalry' amasses to north and west, and prepares to move south...

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Ah shit. Are they comin' this way?"

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Her eyes open as she now hears the chaos, the sound of the beings throwing themselves against the wards, and her hand lifts. Palm closes around the hilt of her twinblade, readying herself to charge. Her body is tense, and a quiver is in her left hand as she grits her teeth.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne drops his wards to the north entirely, and erupts like a beacon of shadow, spiraling out towards their enemies. He is trying to make it look like a desperate attack- but really, it's a taunt.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "We will hold until we get the signal to attack."

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: "Shut it," Tyr hisses, eyes gleaming.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: It's a taunt that works, as it swallows two riders and mounts entirely in its wake, rendering them limb from limb and eventually molecule from molecule in Mourne's wake.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo braces himself, reading his weapon and uttering a fervent prayer under his breath.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Ribbons upon ribbons of darkness surging outwards to each.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The rest charge, and the group flanking south kicks up snow and dirt as riders heel mounts to move north and inward.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne continues with the void taunting, drawing them in... in....

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "What the h--" From one of the guard towers, an olive-skinned and wide eyed Argent peeks out of the window; her curiosity is rewarded with a harpoon through her open mouth that pierces flesh, bone and skin to pin her, dead, to the wall behind.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon moves himself behind Mourne.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Her eyes watch as the Argent was fallen from a single spear, ears twitching as she muttered. "War brings collateral damage...all that matters is we avenge those who fall..."

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Now the Vrykul flood the camp, at least two score of them moving three-deep to the gates and through them, now...

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne is a veritable unholy beacon of shadow, now. "Fuck you and your Nyrgaduul! 194th, NOW!"

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: "Attack!"

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord] Amateo lets out a battle cry and charges with his comrades!

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "BLADES GO GO GO!"

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Bringing sword and shield ready as the enemies rushed in, Rethandral joins the surprise attack group in assaulting their enemies with a mighty challenging yell!

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: She moves, as soon as she hears, charging forth and leaping over the wall. She lands, her blade drawn, and ready for action.

[Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Taneisha wasted no time and rushed in, Light sparking at her fingertips as she snarled.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: This is NOT the place for mounted combat, and the Vrykul are learning this the hard way-- their mounts charge of their own accord, often tripping over their own feet as they try to organize and hunt down the elves.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo moves forward, firing as she goes, dropping arrows into anything that moved against them. Bakharah followed the others over the wall with a roar.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon's hands draw up the void, as he begins to get ready to unleash hell onto the incoming enemies.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Bright as the glow around the Dalaran crater, a six inch thick wall of raw, crackling Arcane rises from the snow, pushing corruption and nature itself aside. The dome closes over the outpost- blazing, brilliant, and unstable.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Worgs find Nestevon and Bakharah, charging them over!

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne starts to switch the shadow-luring to the wards. Yoink

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: In his hidden alcove, Galdanir has taken a knee, the faintest outline of him visible when his focus wavers. His lips move, the spell ongoing.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: It's pandemonium, chaos-- and now the Blades can truly appreciate the depth of their genius. As the Worgs are physically and magically severed from the Deluge of Souls, they begin to physically disintegrate! Falling, piece by piece, they howl and try to sink their teeth into anything nearby-- Vrykul, Blade, and fellow Worg alike.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera also moves forward with Aylo, shooting at anything not wearing the 194th's colors; Bacron screeches, arcane energy filtering down his form, as he moves to snatch at worgs missing their riders and carry them to doom via gravity.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon uses what little strength his body has to try and push back the flooding worgs, of course getting battered along the way

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah let out a string of orcish curses as the worgs knock her into the snow, using her shield to try and keep them from getting any closer.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Digging his feet into the snowy ground, he calls upon his Light energy to ward one side of the attack group.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne whips two void ribbons around, letting them seep through the snow and impale two unfortunate souls. It glowers darker. Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: The skull buddies will eat well, later.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Once he hits the ground Amateo does not hesitate. He keeps charging forward, impaling one vrykul and hitting another hard in the head with the broad-side of the weapon.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera hisses stumbling down over the wall as a worg comes into contact with her shoulder. "Bad dogs, holy shit--"

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Grunting, a crumbling, disintegrating warg crashes into his shield, clambers over it and savagely bites at his shoulder and armor, before crumbling into nothing but filthy bits. "Accursed creature!"

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah, still on the ground, snarls as a blade cuts into her leg, pinning her there for the moment. Aylo on the other hand, stands on the wall and picks off two of the attackers, her arrows catching them in the eyes.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "PURGE THE HERETICS!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The biggest of all the Vrykul is one whose tattoos span every square inch of exposed flesh and knotted muscle; in each hand is an axe dripping Void and emitting ice aura. He roars, "Shadeskorn, invoke the Dark Lord! He will bless us!"

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Clearly the red head a temper this evening and it showed herself as she withdrew her sword and shield. The mender however said nothing as she rushed towards her first target, ramming her shield into it and then running it through her blade as it stumbled back. Once that hulking nightmare was dealt with she turned her attention to the next and charged at them, piercing the monster's heart before withdrawing with a low growl and assuming a defensive stance.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Vrykul take up a chant in Shath'yar! Their blades ignite with Shadow! One of the Vrykul charges Kiri from the side, swinging an axe for her thigh!

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Another fires an arrow from the back of the ranks, catching Bakharah's shoulder!

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: The medic lets loose a spiral of Light and fire at one of the Vyrkul.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah tried to rise, until the arrow struck her shoulder. As the Vrykul came closer, maybe to finish her off, the orc kicked out and tripped him, wrapping her leg around his neck as she pulled back on his forehead, choking him out.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera takes aim at the Vrykul that Bacon is harassing; there's a crackle of lightning from her gun, and it hits the creature square in the eye, felling him.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Flooded by combat against the advancing Vrykul as they became more organized now and attacked as a unit, Rethandral found himself tested as a shieldman, taking hits, slashing, bashing. These were a difficult enemy and they were chipping away at his armor and shield to draw blood here and there!

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: A stray arrow nails Galdanir in the thigh, passing through phased flesh only for the magic imbuing it to tear him fully into the physical world. Ow.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo saw the thrown weapon coming a moment too late, dropping off the wall as the large axe cut into her hip.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: As the Vrykul charges, she tries to meet it's advancing swing, though she is foolish in thinking her small stature would meet the Might of the Vrykul. Her blade is effortlessly pushed back, feeling the bite of the axe shred through her thigh and sending a hiss of pain through her. A snarl is heart behind her helm as she twists her form, her blade dipping low and arching upwards as she slashed the Vrykuls’ axe arm off, twisting the blade around and then impaling it into the creature's chest, only to kick it into the snow, returning to her stance quickly. A stagger is given from the pain in her thigh, but otherwise, she's still standing.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Worse still- now he's in plain sight, and the connection between the magister and the wards that encase the outpost has become tangible.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo gets slashed in the arm with an axe, unable to defend himself against the charge. The hand on the wounded arm momentarily loses its grip on his weapon, and it thunks lamely into the snow due to the sudden imbalance.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Vrykul leader notices this interaction between Galdanir and the physical ward and, roaring, charges the Magister!

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: Ish'kael launches himself by the staff, soaring for some feet to plant his boot into a Vykruls’ face. Enough force to smash the nose in too far into the skull. As a second came towards him, Ish'kael simply moved quick.. And jabbed the foe in the throat with a spark of lightning through his hand.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Stealing a glance of the battlefield, Rethandral notes someone rather important in mortal danger. He calls upon a shaft of Light and hurls it surely at the giant Vrykul commander. "Take on someone your own size, you coward!" Rethandral shouts, clashing his blade on his shield loudly.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The plan was only temporary-- of course the Captains factored this, but it's true all the same. The Void assault on the wards renews from the outside.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Meanwhile, vigor renewed by the possibility of coming reinforcements, the Vrykul charge the Blades' lines once more! They still outnumber those standing nearly 2:1!

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne staggers again when the renewed assault hits his wards.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: Tyr thumbs his COMM. "Can we lock him down, portal out?"

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera's head whips towards the wards, ears flattening against her skull.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Her exposure at the front of the group renders Taneisha an easy target for one of the Vrykul; with both of his axes he swings, hard, for the Knight-Master's chest. Having seen what Kiri did to what was probably his friend or beer drinking buddy or Cousin Earl or something, one of the Vrykul charges Kiri, shoulder checking her to the snow.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: His eyes trained on Rethandral's foe, Galdanir braces his palms against the void tainted snow, still whispering the words that hold his wards steady. For now.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: An anguished scream escaped the Knight-Master's chest as a massive axe struck her in the chest and sent her falling over onto her back before she sharply cursed under her breath.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon doing a good job of missing and being missed

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "I AM JULGEN, SON OF JULBOR!" roars the massive Vrykul, turning heel to face down Rethandral. He swings both of his heavy axes in an attempt to break the knight's guard!

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Her attention was all over the battlefield trying to assess, to see where she was --- WHAM! She lets out a loud squeak as her body is thrown into the snow, dazed for a moment as her helm falls off from the blow, and her scarlet locked head lays back in the snow.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral had kept his shield up, but the mountain of muscle elf was clearly knocked off his feet and flung sideways into the snow as two cleft marks are left on his shield with trickling blood from cuts of his arm holding it!

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Julbor is strengthened with retribution by the death of his comrades!

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Having regained her composure, she quickly leaps to her feet. Her blade is held tightly at her side as she rushes past the chaos, moving to meet Reth's side as she stepped in to take a blow for him. She grits her teeth, though ignores the pain as her fel green eyes narrow, her blade held tight, and her stance strong, refusing to go down.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera shifts in the back, moving to take better aim at Julbor. She whistles sharply; Bacon swoops in from the sky, sharp teeth and arcane magic harassing the Vrykul leader as her void bolt hits his knee.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Dawnfury?!" He grits out in pain, then gets back to his feet. "Nice to see you again."

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "Heh, likewise, catch --- hnnng...up later, right now, ass kickin' time!"

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo sees Taneisha fall and nearly panics at the sight. Just before he crumbles, her words before the battle come to him: he must stay calm. He is of no use to anyone if he loses control. So instead, he lifts his weapon with one arm still screaming from the axe blow, and thrusts the pointy-end into the Vrykul leader.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne whispers a prayer as he works on the wards.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: A tendril of arcane tears through the snow, lashing out at Julbor from the very ground beneath their feet.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Checking his shield arm, Rethandral roars out in challenge as he seemed to blaze with light. "You shall fall to my blade!" He rejoins the attack on Julbor, keeping him away from their mage!

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah shoved the dead Vrykul off of her and rose. She jerks the shortspear from her leg and drives it into the chest of the first vrykul to come in range of her. Aylo tried to stand from where she'd fallen off the wall only to have a large foot slam down on top of her chest, the sharp cracking noise coming from her ribs, alarming.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Slowly but surely the mender rose to her feet as golden magic sparked at her fingertips and she rushed at the nearest foe, taking off the monster's head before she assumed a defensive stance once again.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon thinks he's been useful, throwing fel fire everywhere, he didn't see the Vyrkrul coming after him, taking a spiked mace into the chest. Oof.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Julgar roars, slamming his foot down into the snow and sending a shockwave of brutal force outward!

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: For all his speed, he couldn't take on too many. As he dodged one, the other took the shot. The monk felt a blade cut across his side and rolled away from getting another wound.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Meanwhile, the 14 remaining Vrykul surge among the group of soldiers behind those fighting Julbor, swinging axes and causing chaos, the blood of their mounts still hot and steaming upon their skin.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: As Nest tried to get the spiked mace out of his chest, another Vyrkrul swings, taking one of Nestevon's arm off. He wasn't excited about that.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo stumbles backwards from the force of the attack, but adrenaline and pure force of will keep him from feeling the full extent of his current injuries. He grits his teeth and takes up his fighting stance again.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne is caught on the side as he held the wards, a smack and a crunch.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah jerked the spear from the fallen vrykul and turns, looking for another. As she turned, the vrykul behind her drove the spear into her abdomen, roaring in the face as he did so.

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: His backpedalling did no good, one closed the gap and swung hard.. Ish'kael went rolling like a croquet ball.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: The stomp sends out a tremble, her footing shaky and starting to stumble until she staggers back. Her blade is flipped around, driving the tip into the snow to steady her footing as she retreats behind Reth for a moment. "N - Need to recover!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: One oncoming Vrykul swings hard at Tyr upon cornering the Captain, fist connecting with his temple with a brutal 'crack'. He lifts both axes to finish the job…

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon tried to cast a spell with his good arm, but the Vyrkrul slapped him and he misfired.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne swatted at the nearest Vrykul that struck him, then charged towards Tyr- perhaps not as much charged as a shadow-tendril wraith of doom between Tyr and the one who would harm his brother.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: The medic goes down hard, seeing stars.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Vrykul attacking Tyr is strangled by the magics he worships!

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne thinks they both enjoy it a little.

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: With a grunt and a jump back to his feet, Ish'kael would not let it get him down. As two vykrul approached as he leapt back they would get face full of fire. Flames hot enough to overtake the two.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral ducks under the swinging range of those deadly dual axes and viciously slams his shield multiple times into the Vrykul leader, knocking the foul thing on its heels.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Meanwhile, the remaining Vrykul-- all ten of them-- attempt to rally, swinging and fighting, but they're being corralled… One of them manages to accost Tanei, kicking her brutally square between the shoulderblades.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo prepares to strike at the Vrykul, calling upon the Light to aid his strike. His weapon sings with golden light, and by all means his attack is going to be really awesome. As he congratulates himself on how cool he looks right now, a stray arrow hits him in the side and completely throws him off. The Light on his weapon winks away and he completely flubs the swing.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: She watches Reth's assault, and moves. Her form is swift as she darts to the side, skirting the opposite side of Amateo's damage dealt and moving around behind Julgen. Tip of Faithkeeper dragging through the snow before she lashes a strong upper swing to the being's back, tearing a nice gash in his back.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera takes a breath, reaching for the central mechanism on her gun. She twists it, the color of the internal glow changing from red to pale violet. "BACON, FETCH!" Her cry rings out above the din of the combat as she takes aim above the Vrykul leader's head and fires an orb of pure arcane energy. Her nether ray swoops in, gathering the magic into his body. At her whistle, the creature divebombs the prone leader, the magic passing from ray to Vrykul in an electric shock enough to render him unconscious for a good, long while.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Bacon trills. He's so proud. Even if he ripples a little bit like an open electrical wire.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Once Julbor has fallen, the ground below him becomes a swirling vortex of Arcane. He's pinned on the very brink of passing through a portal into the unknown.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo stretched, ignoring the pain in her ribs and grabbed her bow, aiming up, and loosing the arrow in the soft part of the vrykuls’ under jaw.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Well, the Knight-Master didn't seem to be having a good day and it only got worse as one of the giants managed to rush her and kicked her squarely between the shoulder blades, evoking a startled and pained yelp from her before she stumbled face first into the snow only to growl soon after. "I've had just about enough of your crap!" She snapped out.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne swoops his arm in a sweeping gesture, more ribbons of darkness shoot forth, aiming spikes through the heads of the two unlucky Vrykul in Mourne's way.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: A spear of light stabs out from the medic's outstretched hand, still down on one knee in the snow.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Void magic continues to crash down on the wards!

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Speaking softly through gritted teeth, Galdanir brings his comm to his lips. "I can't hold this."

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: As one tries to get away, Ish'kael out stretches his hand, striking the Vykrul with red lightning.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon, thoroughly fed up, shoots void bolts from his hood and into the face of the mace wielding Vyrkrul. As that one lets go of the mace stuck in the undead's chest to stagger back, Nestevon rips it out and slams it into the side of the Vyrkrul who knocked off his arm before sucking the life out of that one. After he turns and shoots flames to melt the first Vyrkrul.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "BROTHERS, COVER ME!" With only three Vrykul remaining, one drops to his knee and draws a diamond-studded dagger from his belt, which he uses to begin carving at his wrist. The other two Vrykul take defensive positions around him!

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Stop the one with the dagger!"

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: "We need an exit NOW!"

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne holds up an arm- he's going to lightning rod this if he can.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: With a mighty stomp, Rethandral sends a shuddering shockwave of burning Light to engulf one of the vrykul in hungry, vengeful flames!

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo shoved the dead Vrykul off of herself, wheezing in a breath as she snags up the single arrow from the ground. She raised the bow and drew back, her eyes clouded with pain and loosed the arrow, sending it straight into the vrykuls’ eye, stopping him from casting.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon grabs up his lost arm, using it as a wand, he swings it out so it is straight, the Palm facing one Vyrkrul who guarded the caster. Void and Fel flames spray out all over that Vyrkrul.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Taneisha stiffly rose to her feet with a huff. Her hair was a mess and the snow around her was slowly turning to crimson. "....ENOUGH OF THIS!" She screamed as the Light flared at her fingertips and her eyes shone a bright gold as she charged forward and thrust her blade through the monster's heart before tearing it out with a low growl. "Bite me, you bloody fools!" She screamed.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera's eyes have returned to the wards, her ears twitching forward to listen to the song of the void with unease.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne glances up at the wards.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Void onslaught continues; from the North, the winds pick up and carry... but the Shadeskorn are slain.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: The arcane that shields them thins, weakening by the moment. What had been nearly half a foot thick at the start now stands at mere centimeters.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "194th, rally at center- we may need to evac! Argents, positions to center!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The onslaught rages, roars, broils and surges from the north.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Rally in the center!" Rethandral calls out loudly, spreading the message to others near him.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo takes a step forward and winces at the arrow in his side. He grits his teeth and snaps off most of the shaft of the arrow before obeying the command.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Being told to Rally, she tries to take a step, only to drop to a knee panting. The pain in her thigh aches, causing her to need to take a moment to rest. Her blade stabbed into the snow and leaning into it as she grunted.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon puts his arm on his belt, like it was a sword. Moving towards the center.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Up you go Dawnfury." He sheiths his blade and pulls Kiri up with his right metal arm, helping her to the others.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah grinds her teeth together as she struggles to her feet. She snaps the spear shaft off, close to her body, leaving it to be dealt with later as she moves slowly to the other.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Galdanir, the portal holding Jubal- take us to the garrison courtyard if you can, go go- ARGENTS, ALL PERSONS TO THE CENTER FOR EVACUATION!"

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera whistles for Bacon, holding out her gun to him. He smacks his fin against it, and the magic seems to get absorbed back into the weapon.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo does a double-take at Nest and decides his injuries aren't so bad after all.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylora cradles her ribs, hunched over with her bow dragging through the snow behind her.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne calls out through the his shadows that whip through the entire garrison now. "ALL PERSONS TO CENTER FOR EVAC GO GO GO!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: From the North the Deluge of Souls begins to roar, to shift, to grow... to expand, clearly prepared to swallow the entire region if not somehow halted, if not stopped or stymied.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Galdanir's fingers sink into the snow. Magic crawls up his arms from the leylines below, coiling about his shoulders, his throat, all of him. The portal beneath Julbor consumes their captive. Its shores expand, a growing pool of untamed magic.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: And our heroes begin to feel their chests tighten and strain, their vision fade-- only slightly at first, but it's sourced in the waterfall, as though their very souls already belong to the Deluge.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: Tyr begins to murmur something under his breath--cleansing.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "W...We're retreating?" She grunts, leaning against Reth as she is still out of breath. She feels the tightening of her chest, and panic begins to rise in her as she clutches the Bulwark at her side, now trembling. She doesn't know what's going on...

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Whip-SNAP. The Arcane magics that Galdanir's channeling are broken and turned against him, cracking across his chest like a maul.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo presses a hand against his chest as if to keep whatever is inside him contained. The uncomfortable reminder of his first day here tests his resolve.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: And still, our heroes' life essence is drawn north...

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: With a pained grunt, Taneisha returned with her other comrades, stumbling as she fought to keep her balance. "...Light heed me, protect us. Guide us in this darkness," she whispered, as golden sparks began to dance around her fingertips and she moved to Amaeto's side. "Steady...resist whatever this."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Shields UP!"

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera frowns. "Don't have a shield..." Bacon darts in front of her, making a soft chirrup.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: The wards fall, the portal glows bright as the sun and winks out. All trace of the Arcane vanishes when Galdanir collides with the wall behind him.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The voice that comes now is female, and it is somehow unaffected by the wards. "You need not fear, my children... there is only one way to preserve your lives... you can heed my word or flee, and have result give way to my truth..."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral growls against the mounting dread within him. Pulling upon the Light, Rethandral forms as strong as a shield as he could for his brothers and sisters.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne dashes over towards Galdanir.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: The orc drops to a knee, keeping close to the group.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera tilts her head, frowning, as she pushes Bacon out of the way and steps towards the north, first one step, then another.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: "The only way to preserve my life is through Ichor and thread." He'd look at the arm strapped to his belt and sigh.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Come, children, and drink from the waters that shall tether."

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: The word comes simply, firmly. "No."

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Then perish, and know that I will weep for your loss."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne tries to scoop up poor Galdanir.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Galdanir doesn't stir again. Luckily, he's at least not noncompliant.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "Heed her..." Ears twitch as she falters, looking to the group, and then towards the north. "...who's voice...?" She's so confused, and growing weary. Without Shorel'belore giving her the strength she was used to, the fighting was taking a toll on her. She didn't know how much longer she'd be able to stand.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Do not heed this new voice of enticement and witchery. It only leads to your doom Blades." Rethandral glares and winces at where the shattered Waterfall was.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: And Mourne carries him over to the group.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: "If you think..." Taneisha began soon falling prey to a vicious coughing fit as crimson slowly trickled from a corner of her mouth before she wiped it away. "If you think we're going to fall, you're wrong!" She screamed with fire in her voice.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "No, I think we should." Otrera's voice is quiet.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Their life essence siphons, draws as though their forms are sieved.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "...I'm already weak. I'll take the chance...Reth, take me over."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "I will -not- take you over to that thing!"

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera just starts walking off north. "No. I'll do it."

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "You must all... drink... of the waters..."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "No, get back here."

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "Reth. I'm already weak and at this point at my limit. If this voice is right, --- no, you're a better fighter than I. If this is wrong, you lose more if you die than if I do."

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Come... to the Deluge... of Souls..."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "By my strength and the force of the Light, whatever fiend you are shall not claim a single Blade this day!" Rethandral shouts at this 'voice', unsure of where it was coming from beyond everywhere.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Ki'var get back here before I break your legs!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Now the world begins to drain of color for each of the Blades; it's all greyscale.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera just starts -- running off north, Bacon following her.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: The soul siphon and his injuries chisel away at his strength. Soon he must rely on his ranseur as a support to stay standing.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: "Well, I for one could use a drink." Nestevon winks but none could see it. "I'm just joking."

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylora clicks her comm and wheezes. "GET THE FUCK BACK HERE! THAT’S AN ORDER!"

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: Ish'kael looked back seeing Aylo is lagging behind. Despite his own wounds he rushes for her, not caring about anything and picks her up.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Now growls and tries to push herself off of Reth, using her last of her strength to mend the wound in her leg just enough so she can run after Otrera. She's not letting that one die alone, if at all.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Right, if you can, hearth out of here, rally at the old garrison.”

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Kiri, get back here!" Rethandral staggers but follows after that stubborn woman.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Taneisha wasn't about to let Amaeto fall and she gingerly tried to settle his arm over her shoulder. "Stay up!"

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo lets out a pained groan as Ish'kael picks her up.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Go -back!- Take your light magic and your nice -- shiny Blood Knight tabard and go -back- where you came from!" Otrera is still running towards that waterfall!

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: As the grey deepens...

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "I'm taking the two of you with me if it's the last thing I do! Your sacrifice is not worth it!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The heroes make their choices…

=================

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Deluge of Souls is an oasis of night in the storm: the river runs pure black, and white essence froths at its surface. The faint chattering of myriad voices is lost to sloshing seas and foamy, murky depths. Standing on the other side of the river is a figure impossibly beautiful and horrendously evil, such that her potency is undeniable. She wears a simple gown of black silk that matches her waist-length black hair, in stark contrast to skin pale as snow and cold as ice.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Ah-- holy shit..." she comes to a stop just before the water, eyes wide. "It's actually her." She seems a little overawed.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral slows his heavy run after the two and stares at the chaotic scene around him of the flowing river of void. His attention is drawn to the figure upon the other side of the black river and quietly mutters an oath of protection to himself.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Full lips curve upward in a smile. "Your friends' souls are now rent from this world; only an offering both willing and deemed worthy by the Dark One can suffice to keep them tethered to this world." She glances among the three.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: She comes to a stop behind Otrera, her hand moving for her blade once more as she grit her teeth, staring the woman down. She knows in a fight she'd be at a huge disadvantage, but she's ready to defend the Huntress. Her eyes never leave the woman, narrowed as her stance readies. She isn't going down without a fight...and she will fight to make sure the three of them get out.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera doesn't want a fight, or perhaps, she knows taking on the creature with her gun would be useless. She sits the weapon down in the snow, shooing Bacon away. "And there's no way to save 'em? They -left-, they're not even in Northrend any more!"

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Putting a hand upon his blade, he steps to the edge of the river and calls out "There must be some other way to retain the souls of our comrades." He barks out in anger.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "You can drain this river and kill me," she purrs-- no, lilts, and her eyes are black chasms. "But, should you fail, all of your allies who tread these snows this eve shall perish in your foolhardy attempt. Or, you can allow a choice that has been made long ago to take place."

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "Think I'd take m'chances cuttin' you down..." She snarls, ready to charge past Reth, but she's waiting. She's searching for some sort of footing. Some sort of opening...something to give her the queue to strike.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera briefly contemplates whether or not that would be possible...and then realizes she's not actually sure how one would drain a river of void, and is certain that would kill all three of them. "Then what's this big huge sacrifice?"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "An eye for an eye," the woman says simply, hands splayed to convey honesty. "You tipped the odds one way, and the Deluge would see them restored."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral looks to both of the women behind him, then to the women before him across from the river. "If it takes a willing sacrifice to save all of the Blades from whatever doom you have placed upon them... as a Shield of my brothers and sisters, I will take that as my duty." He lowers his hand from his sword handle and plants each hand on his waist instead.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "No, I-- Sunfall, you'd almost certainly lose your Light. Let me do it." She says it immediately.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "No."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Well, tough tits, because I'm doin' it."

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "Like hell will I allow that, Reth! I'm the least experienced, and the one who would be less remembered. Fuckin' let me do it. The Blades lose more if either of you fall."

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Only one of you is worthy," The woman says simply.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Then which one is it?" That seems the simplest question.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "You," the woman says simply, smiling and stretching her hands. "Come, my child, step into the river and know my name: Styxaria, Matros of the Seventh Eye."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral glowers at the two behind him, then takes his steps into the flowing black river. "I willingly offer myself to save the remaining brothers and sisters, Styxaria, Matros of the Seventh Eye..."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera looks at the others. "Let me do this," she says quietly. "Please. Y'all have so much, the Light -- and everythin' -- I don't have that. I just have this."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera is marching after Rethandral, not even waiting. Like hell she's letting him go alone. She reaches for his free hand, grabbing it in her own.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Styxaria extends a hand to Rethandral-- and it turns into a serrated blade, an extension of her arm that shatters Rethandral's armor and pins him to the snow; a pool of his blood forms under him.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Futile," she purrs.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Ah shit--"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Styxaria looks up to Kiri. "Go, now, flee and tell your comrades what fate awaits the Wolf and his Pack... before you damn them all."

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: She watches Reth stepping forward, her attention turning to Otrera, and then Reth. Two comrades...one she has known a while, the other she has only begun to meet tonight. Ears wither as she pictures losing them...and she doesn't want this. Her teeth grit, and a voice speaks in her mind. "Flee. Regroup...you cannot accept this." Ears twitch, and she begins to falter in her steps. She takes a step back before the sight before her, watching as Reth is run through. "Damn it..." she mutters, frozen in her spot. (Run, Kiri...) The voice tells her, and Styxaria's voice is what brings her to life. She grits her teeth, turns, and bolts.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral thumps into the snow with a gurgled gasp as the serrated blade pierced flesh and penetrated armor with ease. Gasps come as his body tries to breath and then slowly ceases. The glow of Light ever present from his right eye slowly fades out.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Come, now, child." Styxaria beckons. "Descend into the Deluge of Souls, and embrace your fate."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: A pale wispy soul of the one-armed night seemingly raises from the slowly cooling husk of a body, turns about to regard the two women quietly, nods, and descends into the depths of the Deluge of Souls. To what fate, who knew….

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: And now Otrera is pulled, too, willed...

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera looks up at Styxaria, ears wilting. So many things -- so many things she wants to say. To run, back to Dazen -- she's been stupid, the fevered heartbeat in her chest tells her as much. But the world is grey and strange, and whether it's illusion or reality, the man next to her is very, very -dead-. She whistles -- one last act of defiance -- and Bacon soars in, grabbing at Rethandral's body and dragging it back towards the base, back towards helpful hands who can maybe save him. Before she glares at the Matros and marches straight into the water.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: There's a high pitched whine. A sudden, mechanical hum, a bright flash of artificial light that consumes Rethandral's body from boot to brow. Mourne's teleporter is visible on the fallen soldier's chest for only an instant before gravity takes hold...pulling his body inevitably through the portal that's formed below him.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The waters of the Deluge of Souls run white, high, powerful before they give way to a single wisp-- flecked in black-- that follows Rethandral through the portal. They're a brilliant and effulgent white for several moments, and for that span Styxaria's appearance shifts-- her ears lengthen, features narrow-- before she disappears, too. Eventually, the Deluge runs black once more.

#Resolute Blades #Rethandral Sunfall #Don't worry #He comes back

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