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thepieisalie · 3 years

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A Mother’s Love (A RE8 story) Chapter 2: The Flowers that grow in Winter

Summary: Alcina Dimitrescu is blessed with three beautiful daughters to call her own. It takes blood, sweat, and tears to raise the girls alongside having to deal with the rest of her peculiar little ‘family’. But when a jealous Mother Miranda tasks her with every mother’s greatest nightmare, will Alcina have to disobey her in order to protect her daughters? Chapter: 2/8 Word count: 5.074 < Chapter 1

December 23rd, 1957

It’s been over a week since I took the girls under my care.

They’ve been nothing but obedient and endearing. And their mental growth has been remarkable! Their vocabulary expanded to the point you can barely imagine they struggled to formulate full sentences up until a few days ago.

I speculate they kept all their physical abilities after the Cadou transformation and only lost their memories. I don’t think they’ll ever regain it, but I will replace them with new ones.

When I called Mother Miranda she told me to continue observing them. I'm not sure how she might respond if I tell her I want to foster the girls.

I will just have to carry that uncertainty with me until the next meeting. That's when I will ask her.

Lady Dimitrescu paused her hand so she could read over it once more. She was not looking forward to that particular family meeting. Especially not because she was going to have to discuss something so personal in front of all her ‘siblings’. But she knew it was the only moment Mother Miranda would be willing to talk. If that was what it took to get the girls to be hers, so be it.

Taking a sip from her wine, she dipped the quill in a little pot of ink and continued her diary entry:

The girls have developed a lot. Both Cassandra and Daniela have gotten better manners, but I still have to remind them about it often.

Especially the eldest, Bela, has improved a lot. She has a strong sense of responsibility for her sisters. I'm glad for that. Even though I love them dearly, it's relieving to have her watch them for me sometimes.

‘’Mother! Mother!’’

Before she even got to finish writing that sentence, two of the mentioned girls burst through the door which swung against the wall with a loud bang. They ran behind the chair Lady Dimitrescu was sitting on and crouched down so they could hide behind their mother’s form. This was the perfect hiding spot. After all, mother would protect them.

Alcina held back a sigh. So much for one moment of peace and quiet. She looked down at Bela and Daniela, who were staring at the opened door from under the armrests. ‘’What are you girls up to?’’

‘’Cassandra is ‘It’!’’ Daniela exclaimed excitedly.

So that explained why they had forgotten the house rule of ‘no running in the halls.’ Cassandra was the most skilled when it came to agility and often convinced her sisters to let her chase them in a game of tag. They loved playing it, but it never took very long for her to catch them.

‘’I see. And you’re willing to sacrifice your own mother and use her as a living shield? You’re breaking my heart.’’ Alcina teased, acting out her obvious sarcasm by placing a hand on her chest like a sad mother would.

‘’We wouldn’t do that!’’ Bela said, staring up at her apologetically.

Daniela didn’t respond, she was too focused on keeping her eyes on the only entrance to the room. Cassandra could pounce on them at any moment. Even if mother was with them, it wouldn’t stop her. ‘’We need to find a better hiding spot.’’

Alcina said nothing, even though she had long since noticed the swarm of flies crawling along the ceiling. Daniela got up from behind the chair to sneak out of the room, only for her sister to dive from above and transform right behind her.

‘’Rawr!’’

Daniela shrieked and pushed the brunette away from her.

‘’Cassandra! No fair!’’ She wailed. Cassandra hollered with maniacal laughter as she continued to chase her in a circle around the room. They were running like headless chickens, bumping into furniture and nearly knocking over a lamp.

Alcina just shook her head and placed down the quill before they would run into her desk and mess up her handwriting. ‘’Do you girls never get tired?’’ She mused.

Bela seemed to completely abandon the game and she dropped her arms onto her mother’s desk to rest her head on them. Cassandra was too busy keeping Daniela in a headlock to bother chasing her now anyway. Mother was right; they were always bustling about and getting themselves into trouble. But she wasn’t like her younger siblings. She understood Mother must be tired, so instead she was going to be obedient and calm.

When Alcina noticed her daughter staring at her sweetly, she smiled and gave her a pat on the head. It made Bela giggle. She was the most moderate of the three, so she cherished any and every moment Mother gave her attention whenever the other two weren’t there to steal it away.

Alcina made sure to give each of them an equal amount of affection. But she would be lying if she said it wasn’t hard. The last week had left her exhausted. Normally she would spend her days alone; occupying herself with a task for Mother Miranda or enjoying one of her hobbies. Now all her free time was put towards her daughters. Keeping them in check and taking care of their basic needs. They had grown a lot, but they still hung around her like clingy monkeys.

Or maybe flies circling around a lamppost would be a better comparison.

Either way, she didn’t get much time to herself nowadays. Lady Dimitrescu didn’t mind for the most part, she loved them and wanted nothing more than to be around them. But there were moments she wished she could have a little bit of privacy. Like on those first few days; they wouldn’t even let her go to the bathroom alone!

Not to mention the number of times one of them stood at her bed in the middle of the night. It was a different reason every time: they had a nightmare or this branch was constantly ticking against the bedroom window. One time Daniela came in bawling her eyes out because ‘Bela had kicked her out of bed.’

It was truly exhausting. But Lady Dimitrescu knew beforehand that the life of a mother was never a quiet one. She was willing to put up with it all, out of love for her daughters. Even if it did take all her patience and energy to keep doing so.

But she was reminded how much it was worth it whenever she watched them play and learn. Or when they proudly showed her a drawing they made. Or when she tucked them into bed every night and watched their cute little faces as they fell asleep. She was so very proud of them.

‘’Stop it, that’s cheating!’’ Daniela’s high voice suddenly pierced through the room. She broke free from Cassandra’s clutches so she could turn towards her mother to yell even louder: ‘’MOTHER! CASSANDRA IS CHEATING.’’

''No, I'm not!''

Alcina closed her eyes as she suppressed a sigh. Still… just one night of undisturbed sleep. That would be nice.

‘’No fighting, girls.’’ She warned, not even bothering to turn around. Her tone of voice was enough to get them to stop wrestling.

Bela poked at the crimson glass on the desk, causing it to wobble dangerously on its thin balanced foot. ‘’What is this, mother?’’

‘’This?’’ She picked it up before Bela would knock it over. The girl nodded. ‘’This is called wine, my dear.’’

‘’Oo, can I have some?’’

‘’Absolutely not.’’ Lady Dimitrescu said sternly. She lifted her chin up in a decisive manner, making sure her daughter understood there was no room for argument.

But that still didn’t stop Bela from giving her best pouty-face. ‘’Why not?’’

‘’Because it’s a drink for adults. You’re not an adult yet, so you cannot have any.’’

‘’I am an adult!’’ The blonde girl protested. ‘’You always tell me I’ve grown so big!’’

Clever girl, Alcina thought with a chuckle. Her daughter’s wit never failed to amuse her. ‘’You’re very grown indeed. But not enough to have alcohol.’’ She explained, letting her hand ruffle through the girl’s blonde hair.

Bela just sighed in defeat. When Mother says no, it’s a no. But she felt her own throat go dry as she watched her finish the wine with a last tip of the glass. She just hoped she would become an adult soon so Mother would let her taste it.

‘’Mother, I’m hungry.’’ The girl then grumbled, letting her head fall back dramatically against Lady Dimitrescu’s arm.

‘’I’m sure dinner will be ready soon, my dear.’’

‘’But I don’t want dinner…’’

That made Lady Dimitrescu look down at her daughter.

''Of course.'' She smiled, immediately understanding what the girl meant by it. It had been a few days since got them their last drink, so it wasn’t surprising she was asking for more. ‘’How about we go get you something then?’’

Bela clapped her hands together in excitement. ''Yes please!''

Lady Dimitrescu turned to the other two. ‘’Come along now, daughters. I believe it’s time for some refreshment.’’

Cassandra and Daniela, who were roughhousing on the carpet, stopped in the middle of their game and jumped up to follow Lady Dimitrescu out of the room. Daniela immediately went for Mother’s hand to hold while she walked them down to the cellar. She normally didn’t take them below the castle. They only ever saw her come from the wine cellar with a fresh new bottle, always decorated with those silver flowers.

That was until four days ago when Alcina found her loving children sinking their teeth into the flesh of a dead maiden. She had quite literally been torn apart on their bedroom floor. The girl had been unfortunate enough to walk in on them when the Dimitrescu girls felt a sudden, ravenous craving for blood. They jumped her, her cries of pain ending quickly in a gurgle of blood as sharp teeth slid right through her throat. Once the maid stopped struggling, they crouched down around the body like a pack of feasting wolves.

Alcina felt a little taken back when she found them like that, drinking from the bloodied corpse. Once she realized what had happened, she blamed herself for not realizing sooner her children required human blood to function like she does. She had noticed their increased hunger in those past few days but didn’t think much of it, assuming they were just going through a growth spurt. Now she regretted not acting on it sooner and losing a maid that would otherwise have made a lovely bottle of Sanguis Virginis.

She got the girls to clean up the mess themselves before taking them down to the wine cellar so she could fully satisfy their thirst.

They took the same route now, passing by her personal wine storage and down the stairs to the dungeon. Bela and Cassandra ran up ahead with Daniela and Lady Dimitrescu walking after them, as she was slowed down from having to keep her head low in the cramped hallway. Their giggles echoed off the damp walls and their running footsteps splashed through the puddles.

Once they made it to the bottom of the stairs, Daniela let go of her mother’s hand and walked towards one of the locked cells. She grabbed onto the iron bars and squeezed her head between them, the cold metal pressing into her cheeks. Hidden in a dark corner sat a girl, pressed up against the wall. Her arms were tied together in metal shackles above her head. The maid outfit she wore was dirtied and her eyes stood dull.

She barely even reacted when a hyped Cassandra ran up to the cell, curious what her little sister was looking at. ‘’Who’s that?’’

Alcina walked up behind them and turned them away. ‘’Don’t bother yourselves with her. I’m just keeping her here for a little while until I make my next batch of wine.’’

The girls obediently followed her to a small room further down the hall. Wooden barrels were stacked up against the wall and a small puddle of red had gathered underneath them from earlier spillage. Lady Dimitrescu picked up three tankards and filled each of them with the juices from a tap in one of the barrels. She stored some pure blood away for later use whenever she had to get rid of any maidens early on. It had been processed slightly, but there were no traces of alcohol. It was perfect to help quench her daughters’ thirst.

They took the beakers with gratitude and gulped down the sweet-tasting blood. They drank vigorously and gasping for air between swallows. Alcina sighed and retrieved a napkin. She crouched down to their level so she could wipe the corner of their mouths. ‘’Come on, darling daughters. Why do you always make such a mess?’’

‘’Sorry mother.’’ Murmured Daniela as Alcina roughly rubbed away at the bloodstain on her lips.

Bela quickly wiped her own mouth clean with her sleeve, but Alcina noticed and gave her a disapproving side glance. Bela tittered apologetically and quickly dropped her hand, knowing mother disliked it whenever they acted ‘unlady-like.’

Cassandra finished her portion and placed down her cup with a satisfied ‘’aaahh.’’

Lady Dimitrescu folded the napkin in her hands and stood back up. ‘’Go back upstairs now. I think dinner should be ready. I’m going to do some work, we can’t let fresh blood go stale.’’ She looked from the corner of her eye at the sound of rattling chains. She could make out the shaking form of the maiden in the shadows. Poor thing must have heard her. She could smell her fear from here.

Lady Dimitrescu wasted no more time and gave her daughters a small push in the back. ‘’Get a move on, girls. Come on. I’ve got work to do.’’

All three of them made their way back upstairs. They went to the dining room where a couple servants had already set up the dinner table. They sat down together at the same side of the enormously long surface. Cassandra already went for a bread roll despite the usual customs and Bela gave a disapproving glare. ‘’Mother would say you’d have to wait.’’

''But Mother isn't here right now,'' Cassandra said as she took a large bite. ‘’Besides, she would tell you to not keep your elbows on the table.’’

Bela gave an exaggerated sigh and leaned out further. ‘’Whatever.’’

A bunch of maids came and went from the kitchens. They placed down multiple dishes, all served in beautiful silver or bronze pots and bowls. One of them filled their glasses with clear water and another used a large spoon to prepare the soup. Daniela held up her nose at the sight of a tray with steaming green sprouts being placed near her. The smell was terrible. ‘’Ugh, I’m not eating that crap.’’

‘’They’re not that bad.’’ Said Bela as she watched the maid put a spoonful on her plate. Daniela just stuck her tongue out at her.

The same girl took another portion and lobbed it on Daniela’s plate. With one swift motion, the mistress grabbed her knife and slashed the maiden right across the face. She fell to the floor with a cry, her hands covering her features.

‘’I said I didn’t want any!’’

Cassandra gasped and her lips curled into a devilish grin. ‘’I’m telling Mother you did that!’’

‘’No you won’t!’’ Daniela spat as she turned to her sister sitting next to her. Her grip around the now blooded dinner knife tightened threateningly.

The maid on the floor tried to keep in her sobs as she quickly rushed back to the kitchens. The rest of them stood silently by the door, afraid to react in case one of them would become the next victim. None of the Dimitrescu girls paid it any mind as the two sisters toed each other up. ‘’Don’t be a snitch!’’

Cassandra held up both hands in surrender. ‘’Okay, okay. Calm down.’’

She sat back in her chair, acting like she completely gave up on the idea. Daniela relaxed enough to sit down as well and slammed the knife back on the table. Right at that moment, Cassandra dashed from her chair and burst into a swarm of flies so she could quickly slip under the door.

‘’You liar! I’m going to kill you!’’ Daniela screamed as she ran after her. Their yelling quickly fading in the distance as they raced to be the first one to find Lady Dimitrescu.

Bela only shook her head. She was in no mood to go after them and scold them for their misbehavior. They would listen better to Mother anyways. She felt responsible for them but no way in hell was she going to babysit them all the time. She had completely lost her appetite by now and frustratingly pushed her plate to the side.

‘’I’m not hungry. Clean up this mess.’’ She ordered grumpily. The maids said nothing and obeyed. They had spent hours preparing the meal, but no one was going to protest after what they had just witnessed. They kept their heads low and did what was asked.

Bela shoved her chair to the window where she sat down to stare outside. The soft background noise of plates and streaming water coming from the kitchen lulled her into a relaxing daydream. Popping her arms onto the windowsill, she watched the fluffy snowflakes falling from the grey clouded sky. It was such a beautiful scene; with the castle's dark towers peaking up high above as if they pierced right through the atmosphere, cutting it open to let the snow fall out like the fillings of a pillow.

Her peaceful trance was interrupted by Cassandra coming back in through the double doors. Bela didn’t look up, even when her sister loudly dragged another chair from the dining table and took a seat next to her with an audible grunt, crossing her arms.

‘’And? What happened?’’

‘’Nothing. You know how Mother is. That brat can get away with anything.’’ Cassandra scoffed. Daniela had once again managed to talk her way out of trouble. Nothing fun ever happened in this boring castle. She put her feet against the wall and leaned back so her chair was balancing on its two rear legs.

‘’Yeah, Mother never really gets mad.’’ Bela smiled a little. She and her sisters often caused quite a bit of trouble. They sometimes broke a vase or spilled food on the carpet. But Mother never raised her voice at them. Even after they killed one of the maids, she didn’t seem to be too upset about it. Sure, Mother corrected them often enough and they had to clean up all that blood by themselves. But would that mean she’s too strict? Bela didn’t think so.

Cassandra sighed and closed her eyes as she rocked back and forth in her chair. ‘’I swear I’m going to lose it if I have to spend one more day with all of you in here.’’ She said.

Bela knew that in reality Cassandra didn't mean that. They got along quite well, even if the three of them did get into fights every once in a while. Mother always said it’s normal for sisters to bicker with each other, as long as they always made up in the end. But Bela had to admit she sometimes felt the same way. No matter how big the castle, it still felt cramped at times with two crazy sisters and nowhere else to go.

She pressed a finger against the cold glass of the window. ‘’I wish we could go outside.’’

Suddenly she noticed a bright blue color pop-up in the garden surrounding the courtyard. It was the petals of a flower, the kind she had never seen before. Despite the layers of snow, it had managed to sprout and bloom. It completely stood out against the whites and greys of the rest of the outside world and Bela’s eyes lit up with a sparkle as it gave her an idea. ‘’I know something fun! Let’s get mother a gift.’’

‘’A gift?’’ Cassandra said, cracking open one eye as she watched her suddenly enthusiastic sister get up from her chair.

‘’Yes! She does so much for us and deals with us every day. Especially you and Daniela.’’ She mutters quickly, receiving a narrowed-eyed look from her sibling. Bela just ignored it and moved in front of the door to the courtyard. ‘’Flowers are nice. I’ll get her one as a gift.’’

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at that. ‘’Mother said we can’t go outside.’’

‘’As if you always listen to everything Mother says,'' Bela grumbled. The dark-haired girl, who remained seated by the window, only gave a shrug. That was a fair point.

Turning away from her sister, Bela closed her hand around the doorknob. ‘’I’ll be fast. Just don’t try to snitch on me like you do with Daniela, understood?’’

With that, Bela determinedly turned the knob and swung the door open. A rush of cold air and snow swooped into the room. It lifted and fluttered her dress in a swift motion, illuminating her body in the late daylight, as if it was greeting her brightly. Even that one gush of wind already sent a shiver down Cassandra’s spine. Before she could mention it, Bela had already stepped outside and closed the doors behind her.

As she basked in the revelation of the outside, she felt the sharp cold prickle her skin like little knives. The wind howled around the castle towers far above her head. Small snowflakes swirled down into the courtyard, landing on her black clothes. Bela focused on the blue flower, dancing between the white-covered bushes only a couple feet away. Cassandra watched from the window how she cautiously took a couple steps on the slippery, icy tiles.

Another gush of wind blew hard in her face. The hood flew back from her head, setting her golden locks free to be pulled and pushed and twisted in all directions before the wind set down once more.

It was so cold.

Bela felt her breath waver, a cloud escaping from her lips. Her face, which at first stood so excited and confident, tensed up in discomfort as a sharp pain stabbed into her chest. She lifted her hands and looked at them. They were shaking violently and her skin turned sickly pale from the frost. Dead flies fell from her form, gathering in a circle around her on the ground.

‘’My… body...’’

She gasped. Shivered. Then lifted her head. Her vision tunneling on the now blurry bit of blue in the garden. She was so close. If she could just get a little bit further. She tried to take another step, only to sink through her knees and fall to the ground.

From within the castle, Cassandra was forced to watch helplessly as her sister fell into the snow. ‘’Bela!’’

She wasn’t getting up. Cassandra immediately turned around and ran to her mother’s bedroom. ‘’Mother! Mother!’’ She cried out.

Lady Dimitrescu had just been brushing through Daniela’s hair as her second daughter burst into the room. She looked up annoyed, expecting another cheap excuse for the rude interruption. But Cassandra didn’t skip a beat to explain.

‘’Mother!’’ She panted. ‘’It’s Bela. She’s outside!’’

Alcina froze, her eyes widening in horror. It caused her to drop the hairbrush which clattered to the floor. She got up and ran past her daughter to get to the courtyard as fast as she could. Never before had she literally pulled up her dress above her feet to sprint down the stairs, ducking hastily under the doorframes to the dining room.

The girls followed after her, but as Lady Dimitrescu slammed open the outside doors, Cassandra stopped and held her sister back by holding out an arm in front of her. Daniela was about to give her a pissed-off glare but stopped dead when she saw the horrified look on her sister’s face. Cassandra could already feel the biting cold from here. They couldn’t risk going out there and have the same thing end up happening to them. There was nothing they could do.

Lady Dimitrescu rushed over the girl shivering on the garden path. ‘’Oh Bela. It’s alright, it’s alright, I’m here.’’ Alcina panicked as she scooped her daughter up in her arms. The girl whimpered and tremored. She quickly brought her back inside.

‘’Get blankets and hot water. Quickly.’’ She commanded to her girls who each gave a nod before disappearing into a swarm of flies. Lady Dimitrescu dropped down onto the couch in front of the fireplace, wrapping her arms tightly around the freezing girl. Bela buried her face in her mother's neck, choking on her own sobs. You could hear the pain in her voice.

‘’Sshhh. Don’t cry, my dear. It’s going to be alright.’’ Lady Dimitrescu comforted. She rubbed the girl’s shoulders to warm them and brought her dead cold fingers to her lips to blow hot air between them. Her body was shivering so badly.

‘’Here mother.’’ Daniela appeared beside her holding a heap of rumbled blankets. She helped wrap them tightly around her sister. Then Cassandra appeared shortly after, contributing another two blankets which Lady Dimitrescu hastily pulled over Bela’s shaking form.

Cassandra felt her heart tighten up at the soft, muffled cries of her sister. This was bad, really bad. Even mother couldn’t fully hide her panic. She tried to keep calm and comfort her child, but you could see the absolute dread in her eyes.

Was she….. was she going to die?

The dark-haired girl perked up at the sound of the doors opening. A maid had come in to bring an old-fashioned heating pad filled with hot boiled water like Miss Casandra had ordered her to do when she ran into her in the hall.

The Dimitrescu daughter ran up to her and pulled it out of the maiden’s hands. The poor girl stood confused, peaking around at the Mistress who was sitting in the middle of the room with one of her daughters cradled in her arms. ‘’Is Miss Bela alright?’’

‘’SHUT UP! GET OUT!’’ Cassandra screamed. The maiden stepped back with her hands raised between them defensively. It was probably best for her to go before Miss Cassandra would completely lose her mind, so she did without saying another word.

Cassandra flew back over to the couch and handed her mother the heater, which she placed between the blankets. Bela had not yet stopped shaking though. She looked like she was in absolute agony, gritting her teeth and trying to hold in the hiccups between her sobs. She was trying to stay strong in front of her sisters, or maybe she was in so much pain she couldn’t even cry. Cassandra didn’t know which of the two it was. But she hated it and it hurt having to see her sister like that.

‘’I-it’s my fault. I should have done something, I should have stopped her-’’

Her rant was instantly cut short as Lady Dimitrescu gently took her by the arm. ‘’It’s not your fault, Cassandra.’’

The girl pursed her lips and turned her head away. She knew Mother didn’t blame her. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she could’ve done something to prevent this. She knew there had to be a reason Mother always told them that to stay inside and keep the windows shut. It all made sense now.

A tear managed to escape from her tightly closed eyes and rolled down her cheek. Alcina moved her hand to wipe it from her face before pulling her closer. Cassandra gave in and let herself drop onto the couch with them. She buried her face into the blankets and cried. ‘’Bela...’’

Daniela joined them, placing her hand at her sister’s side. ‘’Is she going to be alright, Mother?’’

That question struck Lady Dimitrescu a lot harder than she would’ve liked for it to show. She looked down at the pale girl in her arms; Bela’s face stood pained to the point she couldn’t even open her eyes. But she was strong. Alcina knew she was strong. She was going to be alright. She had to be. ‘’She’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.’’

And so she sat with her by the fire, all night long. Even after she had sent the other two to bed, Alcina stayed on that couch and kept Bela close. She cuddled her, stroked her hair and kissed her forehead and whispered her words of comfort whenever she whimpered. After a while, her sobbing finally stopped. And eventually, the shivering did too. She didn’t feel as cold anymore.

But Lady Dimitrescu stayed in that position for even longer. She had to get her daughter warm. She kept her eyes on the fireplace, making sure the flames didn’t die out.

It was then that Bela spoke, very quietly and with a lot of effort. ‘’Mother?’’

Alcina looked down at her, brushing one of her blonde hairs out of her face. ‘’Yes, my darling. I’m here.’’

Bela had trouble forcing a swallow, her breathing slow and difficult. She couldn’t even keep her eyes open well, still fighting back the pain from when she’d stepped outside into the cold. ‘’I just… wanted to get you a flower... I wanted to get you something nice. I’m sorry.’’

Alcina gave her a sad smile. To think she’d almost risked her life for a small thing such as that. She was still a child; she hadn’t known any better, but still. ‘’It’s alright Bela. Come now, you need to rest.’’

Bela stared up at her from under her tired eyelids. ‘’Will you stay with me?’’

‘’Of course. I won’t go anywhere. I’m right here with you, sweetheart. Always.’’

Bela managed a weak smile. She was exhausted. But knowing her mother was with her, she knew she was safe. Everything was going to be alright. She cuddled into her embrace and slowly fell back asleep.

Alcina gave her one last kiss. She held her close, reminding herself with every stroke through her hair that her daughter was with her, that she was alive. She was safe now. She was going to be alright.

She loved her daughters more than anything in the world and the thought of how bad that little accident could have ended made her shudder.

Losing her children…

That would be her absolute worst nightmare.

Author’s Note:

Yeessss. It’s here. I really enjoyed writing this, even though I found it surprisingly hard to do write! It was so fun to explore the kind of everyday life Lady D and her daughters go through. A little bit of angst at the end there as well, because as mentioned in the tags: the Village is not a happy place. XD

If you’re curious, I’m assuming the mental age of the girls at this point in the story is somewhere around 7-10 years old, but with a bit more vocabular advancement than kids of that age would have. They are technically adults in this story, but because they lost all their memories (as mentioned at the beginning of this chapter) they have to relearn everything. But because their bodies have already gone through this, growing up before while they were human, it’s a sped up process.

The reason Bela didn’t just go back inside the moment she felt the cold damaging her body, is because as a child you often don’t fully grasp the sense of danger or are consciously aware of pain. When I was very young I once grabbed a tray of freshly baked cookies right out of the oven with my bare hands! I didn’t even realize it hurt until my mother suddenly rushed over to me in a panic. Same thing is happening here with Bela, she doesn’t realize what’s going wrong until it’s too late. Luckily Lady Dimitrescu is a very good mommy and she came to rescue her just in time.

Because truly, her worst nightmare would to be to lose her children.

And we all know how that went in the game haha. Absolute P A I N

Thanks for that Ethan :)

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please feel free to reshare and review. Share me your thoughts! It’s a big motivator and I like hearing from you guys.

Until the next one, ~Pie

#Lady Dimitrescu #lady d #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #dimitrescu daughters #fanfiction #fanfic #A Mother's Love #re8 #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil fanfic #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 4 years

Note

The guy’s ideal date night?

i miss going out on date nights. i hope you enjoy this request anon! i’m going to assume they’ve been dating for quite a while. ❤️

Danse:

danse’s ideal date night would be something simple; nothing too expensive or thrilling- they had enough thrill in their lives anyway. he would like to do something productive with sole, such as fixing power armor together or any type of modding or building. he’d find it very interesting to exchange ideas and tips while still enjoying their hobbies in the presence of each other. if not that, he’d love to just take a small walk somewhere nice and tranquil with sole just to get to know them better both as a person and his partner. though very inexperienced with love and romance, he’d try his best to take the lead during the date, often asking sole personal questions and attempting for hours to try and hold their hand or kiss their cheek/lips without having a heart attack. in the end, danse has no idea what to do as a date and bases it off something productive, enjoyable, and simple to both him and sole.

Deacon:

oh boy, it’ll be a tiring date night. no, no.. not because of sex, get your mind outta the gutter. his ideal date would be running around with sole and pulling pranks on others in hq or maybe even out in the commonwealth. they’d both share ideas and try to make the best of both worlds work, excited to see the outcome of their experiments. they would try to do it on a variety of species- humans, super mutants, radroaches, etc., to get different results. if not this, they’d do a small cooking date together. deacon and sole would initially plan to cook a nice 3 course meal for the both of them and let each other try their own cooking. instead, they’d both end up fucking around with each other so much, the whole kitchen would be a complete mess and nearly unrecognizable. there was nuka cola all over the floor, raw brahmin steak stuck on the wall, mutfruit staining the counters, and how the hell did deacons pompadour end up floating in the soup? they would give soles kitchen a stare before letting out a shared laugh, both of them leaning into each other for support. all of deacons ideal dates would be full of energy and very thrilling, leaving them both a tired mess after it all.

Hancock:

hancock doesn’t really have an ideal date. as long as he’s with sole, he considers it a perfect time and will enjoy their presence nonetheless. for sure on his first date, he’d stay clean off of chems to remember every moment he spent with sole- after all, it was a very important day for them both. if he were to choose an ideal date, he’d prefer to stay in his quarters and cuddle up against each other while talking about their lives. hancock found this to be very fulfilling and peaceful for him, having the privacy to admire sole without any distractions to pull his attention away. he would be so enticed with sole and would only ask more questions to get to know them better and to hear their sweet, melodious voice ring in his ears. it was the best thing he’s ever heard in his years of living. hancock would send sole a string of compliments, loving the sight of sole blushing at the sudden attention. at the end of the night, they would both somehow end up wrapped around each other tightly as they slept soundly till the morning sun rose. maybe if they were a little farther in their relationship, things would get more wild the closer they got.

Maccready:

maccready is most definitely a simple man, he’s not one for anything fancy or crazy to make his heart stop. his ideal dates would be something very basic yet enjoyable. he wouldn’t like anything that was too crowded, he prefers privacy over attention any day after all. mac would just love to lay besides (or on their stomach) sole, reading comics together and sharing their interests in every book they read. since maccready is absolutely obsessed with comics, he’d suggest doing an art night just once- after struggling to draw a perfect circle for thirty minutes, he decided that maybe he wasn’t mean for creating art but admiring it instead. if not this, he would definitely would love to go to a hunting date where they’d have small competitions on who has the best marksmanship between the two. he’s a competitive person, so you bet that they’ll both be at it for hours until they can declare a fair winner. somehow during this, he’d attempt to impress and swoon sole with his skills he’d been sharpening for years. of course, this would not go unnoticed by sole and they would compliment him happily, always leaving mac a blushing mess while his confidence boosted. as it reached the end of the date, he would always cuddle up with sole on their shared bed and kiss them goodnight before hitting the hay.

Nick:

nick is a very, very old styled person and bases his actions off his life before the bombs dropped. he is very biased to that lifestyle, being born with that mindset from the start of his synth life till now. nicks ideal dates would be almost identical to a prewar one, except without all the fancy equipment and top notch clothing, which he didn’t mind. life wasn’t like before anyway. he’d still somehow fix himself up a little cleaner than he usually is and would find a pair of carrot flowers/hubflowers to give to sole before every date they planned. he would pick up sole from their house, allow them to wrap an arm around his, giving them his coat, opening doors, and would overall be a gentleman through it all. their date would usually consist of a nice dinner, whether homemade or not, and a long, deep talk to get to know each other better or talk about their day. if in a private place, much like his or soles home, he would turn on the radio after their meal and ask sole to dance with him. they’d both slow dance or slow waltz to the sound of the tranquil music playing off of the radio until sole began to feel sleepy from nicks humming. depending on the circumstance, he would be willing to lay by soles side until they woke up the next morning or just simply leave them be for the night and visit them the next day.

Gage:

what the hell was a date? gage wasn’t experienced nor comfortable with this type of shit and he knew it from his core. yeah, he’s seen people go on dates, whether for dinner, dancing, or drinks, but he couldn’t see himself doing that in general. it was just so boring and cringey to him and he hoped that the overboss felt the same about it too. gage would prefer more violent and adrenaline pumping dates, whether that’d be sex, sneaking around and causing trouble, or hunting creatures in the midst of the night. if him and sole had a gun and/or blood was involved with someone else or something, he’d immediately consider it a date. even if sole was drenched in sweat, begging under him breathlessly beneath the sheets, he’d considered that a date too. anytime they spent together was little moments he would treasure secretly in the depths of his mind. every once in a blue moon though, he would set up something nice for his lover, such as a (somewhat bad but edible) cooked meal and nuka cola at their quarters at fizztop grille, admiring the view of nuka world from the couch where they sat at. they would talk about random things that would slowly drift to more personal topics which would lead to light cuddling. sole would lean their head on gages shoulder and fall asleep for the night. sooner or later, gage rested his head on theirs, following after.

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avieelliot · 3 years

Photo

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: aveline rosemary fox-harker (changed her surname to elliot once she got to america)

Nickname: avie

Race: white

Ethnicity: french, german

Nationality: english (UK)

Age: 34

APPEARANCE & MANNERISMS

Hair: straight, chestnut brown, reaches her shoulders

Eyes: blue-grey on the outside, hazel around the irises (central heterochromia)

Skin: fair and smooth

Height: 5'2" (157cm)

Build: slender, soft

Scent: jasmine

Gait: leisurely pace, often stops to literally smell roses, or just stare at a pretty view

Clothing/Style: flowy lines, muted colours, soft fabrics (silk, cashmere)

Style of Speech: soft, light voice, but commanding. like you know you’re supposed to stop and listen.

Key Possessions: she has very little attachment to material things. her dogs are her life.

CITIZENSHIP

Social Status: well liked, but little known

Occupation: veterinarian / sanctuary owner

Education: Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree

Residence: a quaint little apartment in a century home

PERSONALITY

Likes: animals, nature, good food, good wine, good conversation, walks in the woods, quiet meditation, stargazing

Dislikes: instability, dishonesty, greed, money, power, being told what to do

Hobbies: working at the animal sanctuary, volunteering at shelters, reading

Personality Summary: kind, altruistic, nurturing, guarded, stubborn, afraid

RELATIONSHIPS

Friends/Allies: TBD

Enemies/Rivals: Alessandro Di Natale, her ex-husband, most men.

Family: estranged from her disinterested parents and her long-lost brother

Romantic Interest: TBD

Pets: three rescue dogs, named Flora (a golden), Fauna (a husky mix), and Merryweather (english bulldog)

BIOGRAPHY

tw: child neglect

Nothing in Aveline’s life has ever been particularly stable, but the one comforting constant in her childhood was everyone always insisting that everything was completely fine. Her parents, devastated to be born a decade or two late to the hippie movement, dove headfirst into 80’s political activism - violence in the name of peace, or something along those lines. He went by Barkley Fox, she went by Buttercup Harker. They met during a riot, and they never slowed down.

Aveline herself was… a surprise, to say the least. Her parents were young and wild and free, but not quite smart enough to realize a child would change that. Or rather, that a child should change that. It didn’t change much for Buttercup and Barkley, who brought tiny Aveline to riots with them, smiling for the photojournalists, and reassuring nosy child welfare workers that everything was, as always, completely fine.

Sure, sometimes they forgot to pick her up from school until the sun had set, and they went on “vacations” to war zones, and she saw much more than any ten year old child should see the time they couldn’t find a babysitter and brought her to the Filthy Lucre tour. And yeah, maybe sometimes they went out and didn’t feed her, or they tried to cure infections with leaves and tree bark, or she missed a couple months of school here and there… but everything was fine, they had it all under control. She was a free spirited child, like them.

Needless to say, everything was not completely fine. Aveline wasn’t fine. She was lonely, and scared, and small. She was forgotten about by the people who were supposed to love her most. The only reason she ever learned what real love was, is because her grandmother (with whom her parents would often drop her for undisclosed amounts of time) had an animal sanctuary.

The animals were hurt. Wounded birds, orphaned squirrels, that kind of thing. They were small, and scared, and lonely. Forgotten about by most of the world. Aveline’s previously unused heart filled up with the love of these tiny helpless creatures, and she found her calling.

When she was eleven, another tiny helpless creature was dropped in Aveline’s lap. His name was Elliot Fox-Harker - her new baby brother. Their parents didn’t know what to do with him any more than they’d known what to do with her. But she was old enough to babysit now, they decided. So they left their oldest child alone to parent their infant. Avie was overwhelmed, and even more scared than before. Somehow, she kept Elliot alive - with the help of their brilliant grandmother. But she was a baby herself, and their grandmother was blind, and it took three years before anyone noticed that Elliot couldn’t hear them. He was deaf.

Aveline was fifteen then. She knew what she had to do. She called the NSPCC Helpline and reported her own parents for child endangerment. The people who came to rescue her brother ripped him, screaming, from her arms, and though she knew she’d done the right thing, to this day, she can’t escape the guilt of that. Elliot was the only person in the world who loved her and needed her, and she let him down. She loved him as much as she resented their parents, so when she moved to America, she changed her last name for him.

She was sent to live with family in Brooklyn, and really struggled to finish high school there. The distraction of her guilt and sadness mixed with the combined years of school she’d missed in her tumultuous childhood meant she was constantly behind... but she put all of her time and energy into studying. The other students in New York were interested in her - they saw her as a mystery of a person with a pretty face and a cute accent, and were fascinated - but she couldn’t relate to any of them. They wanted her to go to parties and pep rallies, but the only person she found herself relating to at all was the weird quiet kid with his walkman on.

After graduation, she went back to England and studied veterinary medicine in London, almost reaching the top of her class. Almost. Top 5%, anyway. But it was an incredible achievement for someone who statistically shouldn’t have survived childhood. She was on top of the world when she graduated... until she realized that she had no idea where to go from there. She was entirely alone in, and besides wanting to be a vet and not wanting to think about her family, she’d never had any real plans. Her mind reeled with images of herself turning into her parents - lost and forever wandering - and she panicked… until she met The One.

He was American - the CEO of his own company, a self-made man. He was gorgeous and charming and driven and best of all: he was stable. She figured the best decision she could make in her life would be to find someone who craved the same stability and authenticity she needed, and to be a team. The exact opposite of her parents. So when he proposed, she said yes.

And when every red flag in the world popped up and waved itself in her face, she smiled, went to work, and constantly insisted that everything was… completely fine.

She had a job she loved, her own veterinary practice in Portland, Maine, a big goofy dog named Flora, and what she thought was real love. She was happy. All the warning signs and nagging thoughts were just echoes of her parents’ voices telling her she needed to be free, and she shouldn’t tie herself down. She wouldn’t listen. She didn’t listen. For seven years, she went through the motions, comatose, hibernating, putting up with more bullshit from him than even her parents could carry. Then one day he came home from a business trip. He’d barely set his bags down when she said it.

“I know you don’t love me. And I know you never really did.”

She was talking to him, but she also saw her parents as she said it.

Everything broke, then. He broke, she broke, the walls that they’d both been carefully building, the personas they’d been curating, all of it, just crashed to the ground with a violent, angry, thunderous bang.

She tried to move on. After the divorce finalized, she tried to have hope, and to try again to find the stable, true, safe Forever Love she still believed was out there. She met a beautiful boy named Alessandro, reeling from heartbreak himself, and thought that maybe this time it could last. He made her feel beautiful, and wanted, for the first time, really, ever... and then he broke her heart.

She gave up entirely after that. She moved to Boston with Flora, adopted two more dogs (Fauna and Merryweather) and poured herself once again into work and nothing else. The animals were the only important thing - they could bite her, but they couldn’t break her heart. She was kind to people, but kept them at a distance, not willing to risk falling into the trap of love again.

Earlier this year, she was offered a job at Familiar Friend Veterinary Clinic, and moved to Salem. She’s has opened her own animal sanctuary for hurt/abandoned pets and wildlife in the area, and has even ventured to make a friend or two. She’s wounded, but in rehabilitation, and she’s sure she’ll fly again soon.

#srphqintro

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galleryfake · 3 years

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answering every question from muse things - !

❄ — all striked answers are things that do not apply to him, and even if they do, he has no opinion/doesn’t find it relevant. three of the sections have been omitted entirely due to their lack of relevance to his thought process.

SELF + HEALTH

how do they see themselves? — as a part of the spider, nothing more or less. without it, he’d be just another person living uselessly until death.

how do they want to be seen by others? — he hopes he can be useful & that he can bring even the most fleeting, temporary meaning to his loved ones’ existences. he also, secretly, wishes to be loved, and to have it expressed to him in any of its forms.

what is their life motto?

would they rather lead or follow? —follow.

what motivates them? — working as part of a group, & discovering hidden or sealed away knowledge.

are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? — his tongue, as he dislikes physical fighting as anything other than a means to an end. he only fights to kill and doesn’t like to spar.

do they have any pet peeves? — acts of pure emotion that have no thought or planning put behind them, that end up deconstructing something that could’ve been handled more sensibly. so basically... most things done by enhancers, in general. looking at you, phinks & uvo.

what do they most regret? —not many things, in general. when things get screwed up despite him having thought he had made the best judgement at the time, it will keep him up for a few nights, but he’ll eventually forgive himself and move past it. paku’s death, for example.

what achievement are they most proud of? — being the troupe’s only #12, yet to have been killed and replaced.

what would they like to improve on? —nen is a very versatile pool of energy to work with, he will always be tweaking with his abilities one way or the other. see: his ice transmutation.

do they have any scars? —several very tiny blips on the expanse of his skin that tell of countless IV insertions and things strapped to him when he was younger. a fair amount of battle scars, mostly centered around his hands and arms. #justconjurerthings

do they have a disability? — anxiety disorder & ptsd, both which he quietly shoves down and rarely ever discusses their symptoms - as both are essentially a given, considering their line of work.

do they have any allergies or food intolerances? —mildly allergic to pollen, VERY allergic to latex. the latter is the reason he doesn’t ever wear disposable gloves even though he prefers to keep his hands clean.

do they have any long-term illnesses or injuries? —being a clearly very premature infant having inhaled the toxins of meteor city’s trash, he spent his infanthood all the way up to his early double digits extremely ill and practically on the verge of death. his body went into sepsis several times due to a weak immune system, and complications with his blood vessels left him with acrocyanosis well into adulthood after being on and off a (cheap) ventilator for years at a time. nowadays he’s mostly fine, though, just very small and very purple in the hands.

PERSONALITY

describe their personality in one word. — cryptic.

their predominant emotion? —contemplative.

someone wrongs them. do they respond with revenge or forgiveness? — calculative neutrality, then, depending on which conclusion he draws, either forgiveness or cautious distrust, but never revenge.

do they make snap judgments or take time to consider? — almost always takes time to consider, except in rare cases where his emotions run high and cloud his reason.

are they a glass half-full or a glass half-empty kind of person? — depends on the situation, he will assess it accordingly.

do they express themselves through words or deeds? — a combination of both, most likely a deed followed by a bit of helpful explanation.

how often do they lie? — not often, unless it’s to conceal his own weakness or to deceive someone on orders from chrollo.

do they listen to their head or their heart while making a decision? — his head, but sometimes his head and his heart war with eachother, and his heart wins in tense split-second decisions.

HABITS

how organized/disorganized are they? — quite organized. organizing is a small hobby of his, and he’ll often do it without even thinking as he busies himself in thought.

do they have any routines? — his life is a bit too hectic for that, but he does have a specific way of washing + caring for his hair out of a shower and right before bed, to avoid tangles.

talk about their mannerisms. — gesturing with his hands. making small noises to himself. flicking his head to either side to adjust his hair-to-vision ratio.

is there an item they take with them wherever they go? — his cellphone, for obvious reasons, and often a small weapon he can clone for traceless murders, such as a knife or a handgun.

good habits and bad habits. — good habits: cleanliness and organization. bad habits: repressing his feelings and keeping himself up at night with anxious scenarios and telling no one.

THOUGHTS

their views on formal education vs self-education?

what are their thoughts on animals? — sees them as no different than humans, selfish survivalists staying alive by whims and instinct. this is not a good thing. he kills them as effortlessly as he kills humans, if needed.

how much do they care what people think about them? — when it comes to the troupe: he cares a lot more than he lets on. anyone else? strictly 0.

do they enjoy being the center of attention? why or why not? — he typically doesn’t, he gives himself performance anxiety by holding himself to a high standard, even though he typically accomplishes whatever he sets out to do with a high success rate.

how do they feel about learning? — one of his favorite hobbies, and the easiest way to bond with him.

which do they value more: creativity or practicality? — they go hand-in-hand, he’d say. they are both tools to be utilized at their proper times.

thoughts on material possessions? — he doesn’t keep many himself, but somewhat understands the need to have them and assign them value. under no circumstances should anyone be deluded into thinking anything can be owned, though. even objects.

would they rather win an argument or avoid conflict? — avoid conflict, though purely intellectual arguments thrill him and he actively seeks them out on occasion.

views on people in general? — food for the spider’s web.

what qualities do they admire in other people? — confidence in one’s actions, clear sets of boundaries that they follow, and the sense that someone knows what they’re doing beyond a shadow of a doubt.

how do they feel about fun?

what do they want written on their tombstone? — nothing. he’d much prefer to have no trace of himself left behind.

what would an ideal day, in their mind, be like? — discovering something new to revel in for a while, and then ending his day in the warm presence of someone he loves.

thoughts on privacy? (are they private or are they “tmi”?) — most people assume him to be very secretive and locked away, but he’s actually rather honest about things when asked directly - he just doesn’t divulge them on a whim. like with most things, he never speaks first, but this doesn’t mean he never speaks at all.

thoughts on superstitions or the occult? (do they believe, not believe, etc.)

what are their religious views? — none. as far as he’s concerned, everything is put into motion by someone’s individual will. if some god doesn’t exist, he’s not particularly concerned about it.

THE PAST

where did they grow up? — meteor city.

how would they describe their family? — the spider.

what was their childhood like? —plagued by illness.

what did they want to be when they grew up? — alive to see it.

as a child, what were they most likely to be found doing? — struggling to breathe in a medical cot somewhere in meteor city.

the worst thing that has ever happened to them. — first running away from the city by himself and experiencing withdrawal from being taken out of intensive care for his weak body.

the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to them. — whenever he’s called out for his emotional weakness for the troupe. he just loves them, okay.

the best thing that has ever happened to them. — a little bit after being recruited, the first time he felt truly acclimated with them. like he had a family for the first time.

which memory stands out most clearly? — meeting chrollo, and getting close to shal and fei. those memories still visit his pleasant dreams once in a while.

TOUGH STUFF

do they have any phobias? — medical rooms or establishments such as hospitals. they make him instantly claustrophobic and if he absolutely HAS to be inside of one, he will make an effort to complete his task there as quickly as possible while still doing exactly what he needs to do.

do they get nightmares? — sometimes, but they’re never violent, mainly just sad and vaguely hollow and empty. from these, he wakes up feeling like he didn’t even sleep at all.

what kind of person are they? — one you would likely be much worse off for meeting, if you’re not a spider.

would they let someone take the blame for something they did? — sure. it was their choice to do so, after all.

what are they insecure about? — his own emotional weaknesses. they’re a nuisance to his thoughts and strategies and no one should be bothered with them.

what is one way to earn their trust? — simply make plans and follow through with them. display confidence and the skill with which to back it up.

what is one way to lose their trust? — be an enhancer. *COUGH* i mean, be primarily emotionally driven and cause destruction as a result. such a bringer of chaos would no doubt be a headache to have around regularly.

one thing they would hate anyone to know about them. — that he’s very soft and with simple desires. he’ll verbally deny being slightly clingy and affection-starved, but his actions will say otherwise.

they have to pick one: to be loved, to be feared, or to be admired. — to be loved. no question.

have they ever been bullied or teased? — due to his size, typically, but he doesn’t really care. there’s no impact to his life if people think he looks weird due to his appearance, or his voice or his powers. they’ll simply have to live with it.

FUN STUFF

what is their character archetype? — the quiet but deadly one.

what are they confident about? — he is confident in his efficiency and ability to carry out tasks and speak truthfully.

talk about their moral alignment. — true neutral. pretty self-explanatory.

describe them in three words. — helpful. devoted. curious.

describe their aesthetic. — ancient libraries covered in dust. a snowstorm in the night. an iced-over lake reflecting an overcast sky.

what will make them laugh? — seeing his loved ones happily goofing off and being relaxed, as well as any number of empathetic reactions shared by the happiness of ones close to him.

what makes them feel safe? — simply being near the others, or being somewhere very far-off and secluded from largely populated areas.

favorite color and the reason for it. — blue, simply because his hair and eyes all fall in line with its palettes and it looks good on him.

favorite book genre? — informational textbooks of a certain field of expertise, or, in the case of fiction, mystery &/or crime solving.

favorite movie genre? — psychological thriller. also may or may not have a thing for hallmark movies with cheesy happy endings.

favorite type of muse?

if they could have a superpower, what would they choose?

do they have a role model? — definitely chrollo, and also, to a certain extent, feitan.

what is their personal kryptonite? — choosing things/planning for things that involve the life or death of someone in the spider. in that moment, his emotions cloud his judgement and he can only find himself reaching the conclusion most likely to keep them alive. he can hardly bear to lose any of them.

how do they entertain themselves? — organizing things, studying a particular topic, or playing a boardgame/doing puzzles.

#✧ headcanons — illusionary spider #; stealing an entire ask meme to fill it out completely again? yes that's me and i will do it again

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strvngcrs · 4 years

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『 adam brody. forty. cis male. he/him. 』 oh heavens, is that DANIEL ABRAMS from FAIR LANE i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them -BROODING & -EVASIVE. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool HORROR AUTHOR and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +DEBONAIR & +ELOQUENT. i hope i see them around again!

classically rolls in ridiculously late bc i forgot i had to work last night & then proceeded to sleep in today wooo !! good afternoon ghouls, it’s ya girl maia, finally here to deliver the definition of hot mess with good intentions.

GENERAL

FULL NAME. daniel elijah abrams.

NICKNAMES. dan, danny.

AGE & BIRTHDATE. 40 years old ; may 4, 1980.

GENDER & PRONOUNS. cis male ; he/him.

ORIENTATION. heterosexual.

MARITAL STATUS. estranged.

RELIGION. jewish ( non-practicing ).

OCCUPATION. horror author.

INSPIRATION. bill denbrough ( it ), donnie darko ( donnie darko ), lucas scott ( one tree hill ), stephen king.

PHYSICAL

HAIR COLOUR. black.

EYE COLOUR. dark brown.

BUILD. athletic.

MARKS. freckles scarcely spread across his entire body.

TATTOOS. none.

PIERCINGS. none.

HEIGHT. 5'11".

FACECLAIM. adam brody.

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC. taurus.

ALIGNMENT. chaotic neutral.

HOGWARTS. ravenclaw.

LABEL. the arcane.

POSITIVE TRAITS. cheeky, debonair, driven, eloquent, resilient, solicitous.

NEGATIVE TRAITS. brooding, evasive, inquisitive, sarcastic, stoic, stubborn.

HOBBIES. smokes like a chimney while writing until he forgets what day of the week it is, dabbles in hunting & fishing (thanks @ his dad), labels all crime / thriller genres as ‘predictable’ but continues to watch them, obsesses over & relentlessly criticizes his own work, drinks heavily & passionately plays moonlight sonata or fur elise as if he’s betoven’s disciple.

BACKGROUND

PLACE OF BIRTH. california.

CURRENT RESIDENCE. mapleview, north carolina.

NATIONALITY. american.

ETHNICITY. ashkenazi jewish.

PARENTS. judith miller & mr abrams.

SIBLINGS. mia miller.

BIRTH ORDER. eldest.

CHILDREN. penelope abrams.

EDUCATION. university of california, los angeles; bachelor of arts in english.

LANGUAGES. english, some spanish & french.

HISTORY

EARLY LIFE. born to THE judith miller and some newspaper editor, daniel was raised by the latter and notoriously abandoned by the former. well, not completely abandoned - there’s an old shoebox containing a few letters as proof - but that was the only source of communication in their otherwise absent relationship. while little danny boy didn’t fully understand why he couldn’t see his mother, he sought out an alternative solution by watching her movies. his father wasn’t aware, at first, and dan created this extravagant fantasy of the person he thought she was based on the roles she played. however, once papa abrams found out his son was watching these movies (which were probably not fit for children in the first place lmao oop), he begrudgingly revealed the bitter truth. being forced to come to terms with the fact that his own mother willingly abandoned him with his father, daniel didn’t fully understand what it meant; he couldn’t properly process why. the hurt of absent mother was expressed more out of anger, feeling as though there must have been something wrong with him. there were fewer and fewer letters sent to judith until he gave up altogether and thus, dan’s out of control behavior was born.

TEENAGE FEVER. SUICIDE MENTION TW. he struggled in school. his emotions betrayed him. instead of relishing a happy childhood, daniel found himself pushing everyone away, getting into fights, sneaking out late at night to run around the city streets with his friends and get into all sorts of trouble with them. he couldn’t count on his hands how many times the police picked him up and brought him to his dad’s doorstep. it only got worse once one of his best friends was found dead, written off as a suicide, though it didn’t add up in dan’s eyes and seemed so much more sinister. the young man was nearly deemed to be a lost cause, until he discovered his passion for writing.

language arts or literature was the last thing anyone would ever think to group with daniel abrams. but his english teacher noticed how well he could articulate his thoughts and feelings on paper, and submitted one of his pieces to a writing contest, which earned dan the win and a cash prize. bewildered by a talent he hadn’t even realized was in him, daniel embraced it. he started writing in a journal ( which he kept safely tucked away beneath the mattress of his bed ), documenting every feeling and thought as a way to express his emotions in a more productive manner. this talent earned him a full ride scholarship to ucla with a major in literature and plans of diving into some sort or creative writing career or perhaps becoming an english teacher, to follow in the footsteps of his high school teacher who he came to idolize.

mere days into his freshman year, however, his high school sweetheart showed up in the middle of the night at his dorm with a positive pregnancy test. it was then the chaotic world as he knew it turned a new leaf, revealing a silver lining in the form of their daughter, penelope, who daniel hadn’t a clue, just yet, would save him. and so a shotgun wedding was quickly planned around the pair, both families either completely supportive or in utter disbelief. it was quick, it was cheap(ish), and it was stressful as all heck. but they were young, and in love, and were looking forward to starting a family together, despite it being a little earlier than initially planned.

“ADULT”HOOD. fast forward five years, and they’re signing divorce papers. fortunately, it wasn’t messy. the two had simply grown apart as they matured in their respective ways, and remaining together was only causing a rift to develop between the two. the last thing they wanted, for the sake of their daughter, was built up resentment to tear the little family apart. his wife, who daniel initially thought to be the love of his life, blossomed into an absolute goddess; she was ambitious and knew exactly what she wanted. daniel, on the other hand, was still somewhat caught up in his ‘bad boy’ habits of drinking excessively and his career was still pretty up in the air. the two just didn’t compliment each others’ lifestyles anymore.

daniel moved out but remained in california, settling for a bachelor’s apartment where he was able to have penelope every weekend. during this time, he finally cracked down and worked on finishing a novel he’d started years prior. within a year, he found a publisher who took interest in his grotesque works, and by the time daniel was twenty seven, his first bestseller hit the shelves, changing his life for the better with the ability to provide for his daughter without stress of landing another odd job ever again.

as his fame increased, so did his desire to slink back into the shadows away from the limelight. at first, he enjoyed the wholesome book signings by day and grungy celebratory benders by night. but it grew old pretty fast and he certainly didn’t want to end up as another washed up shmuck. so, on a whim, daniel decided to move out of california completely, removing himself from the toxic lifestyle he’d grown accustomed to and shacking up on a beautiful piece of land in the rocky mountains of north carolina. the serenity and scenery certainly aided in his inspiration, as well as his unacknowledged lowkey addictions slowly being rehabilitated from his bloodstream.

OLD YELLER. now, in his utmost prime at forty years old, he’s written numerous cult classics, a few of which have successful movie adaptations. he was lucky enough to land himself in a second marriage, though.... that one is now deteriorating as well because he literally doesn’t know how to maintain a healthy relationship. he received full custody of his daughter when she was sixteen, under the unfortunate circumstance of her mother’s untimely death. although they’d been separated for nearly twenty years, daniel was still very much affected by the loss, more so empathetically for penelope. he’s still hooked on the drink, though he’s definitely calmed down quite a bit from when he was a young buck. basically a messy, depressy old soul who uses sarcasm to deflect his true feelings.

CONNECTIONS

ESTRANGED WIFE. first marriage was a bust, and the second is turning out to be no better. they haven’t hit rock bottom just yet, in his opinion (which would be finalizing a divorce lmao), and he’s unsure if they should work things out or not but also really.......doesn’t wanna go through the process of another divorce. plus he likes her and deep down adores their bickering. the reason(s) why things started falling apart between them can be discussed of course. lowkey debating on whippin this up as a big official wc but.... if anybody already here would like to snag it, i would 100% mclove it.

COLLABORATORS. literally anyone he’s worked with over the years, whether they be fellow authors, publishers/publicists, journalists, screenplay writers, etc. yeehooo the possibilities are endless !!

FOLLOWERS. anyone hooked on his books, whether devout fans from his early beginnings or people who newly discovered his fictional writings.

FORMER CLASSMATES. could be from high school or university, but he was in california for the better part of his life aka not a mapleview native. former friends to foes & anything in between. dan’s that one kid who spiked the punch bowl at all the dances and years later probably snuck in party favors to snort off the bathroom sink during their high school reunion lmao whew !!

ANYTHING. literally anything. i’m my groggy state of mind on my lack of creativity rn so please, i’m beggin. if daniel can enrich your characters’ lives in any way, shape, or form, hit me up and we’ll hatch a plan.

#———— 🥀 . 𝙳𝙰𝙽𝙸𝙴𝙻 𝙰𝙱𝚁𝙰𝙼𝚂 ╱ DOSSIER .#mv:intro #alcoholism tw #abandonment tw #drug use tw #mommy issues tw #suicide mention tw #i think....that covers it?? if i missed anything pls let me know & ill tag accordingly #this is awful bc i rushed a wee bit buT #HOT DOG am i stupid excited to write with yall

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toomuchtimenerd · 4 years

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Review for ‘The Queen’s Rising’ series by Rebecca Ross

I stayed up until 3am last night to finish this 2-part series and wow oh wow do I not regret it at all. Both the first book, The Queen’s Rising, and its sequel The Queen’s Resistance had pretty slow starts... but jeez once the plots got going they really got going. This duology was one of the many books that I had put on hold awhile ago. I think I originally wanted to read this during my sadgirl post-breakup phase exactly two years ago, a 3-month long period of time where I got broken up with, had an identity crisis, and proceeded to drop out of my sorority while fully embracing my inner nerd. Disclaimer: I loved being in a sorority, I really did. It just took up way too much of my time and I had realized juggling sorority duties and school left me with no time to pursue my own personal hobbies.

BUT ANYWAY, I’m really glad I finished this series and really glad I took my time with it. The Queen’s Rising has a pretty slow start and by start I mean probably the first half of the entire book. But it became super complex with all the court politics going on and honestly it went from slow to holy shit whaT’S HAPPENING AHH over the course of like a chapter halfway through the book. The Queen’s Resistance was more or less the same, except with way more political twists (in my opinion, of course) and a touch more romance. Emphasis on touch, because neither of these books were romance-focused or even had that much romance at all, which was kind of a bummer because hello it’s me the lover of all things sappy romance. But I’ll get to that in a second.

The Queen’s Rising follows a young girl named Brienna who essentially gets dumped by her grandfather at a prestigious academy that trains young girls to become ‘passions’. This refers to someone who is master at one of the five subjects: art, music, drama, wit, and knowledge. Brienna’s mother dies before the start of the story, and Brienna’s father is purposefully kept a secret from her. Brienna herself dabbles in each of the five passions before settling on knowledge, which is taught by Master Cartier. Her biggest fears at the beginning of the book is not being picked up by a patron who will endorse the utilization of her passion, and unfortunately this comes true. But she’s offered by the academy headmistress to stay the summer and continue studying her passion, and the headmistress will try her best to pair her with a suitable patron in a few months. Brienna agrees to this and stays in contact with Master Cartier through letters for much of the summer when suddenly everything changed when the fire nation attacked. Just kidding. Brienna shares her strange visions of a Maevana lord from over a century ago with the headmistress, who gives her the choice to choose a strange man who goes by the name of Jourdain as her patron father. Brienna complies, and basically her entire fate is changed at this point.

So my first thoughts were that I really liked the sisterhood that went on throughout the six girls at the academy. Even though the book opens with the conclusion of their schooling we, as the reader, can still get a glimpse of how deep their relationships go. Ciri was a little bit of a brat, but I personally don’t blame her due to her unusual circumstance of sharing an instructor with someone else and Merei was LITERALLY Brienna’s ride-or-die. Obviously spoilers (because my reviews are always ridden with spoilers), but Merei’s role later on in the plot while they’re all in Maevana had me mentally screaming “YESSS SIS”. Cause honestly if I was Brienna, that’s what I would’ve done, especially when Merei shot Allenach on the battlefield. Well, maybe not if I was bleeding out on the ground but still.

And how could I forget, Brienna the main character. I liked her quite a bit, truly, but if I’m being nit-picky then I definitely do have an issue with how her character progresses in The Queen’s Rising. Brienna starts off as someone who is clearly headstrong and determined, so I guess that’s ultimately the drive that keeps her going through the revolution and such. But I kind of felt like she went from “sheltered girl who’s only ever had time for books” trope to “Maevana warrior who is willing to fight and die for her rightful queen” a little too quickly. I get that she is half Maevan on her dad’s side (who is holy shit such a dick) but it just seems kind of abrupt for her to go from “I grew up as a dainty fair maiden in Valenia my whole entire life and don’t know anything about Maevana outside of what I learned from books” to “I’m going to beg the cruel king of Maevana for my adopted father’s safe passage back into the country and then when no one’s paying attention to me I’m going to scout this land I’ve never been on to look for a stone that has been lost for over a century and everything will be fine” all in the span of... maybe two or three chapters? We are shown that she receives sword/combat lessons from Isolde, the rightful queen of Maevana, but if my mental timeline for this story is correct then those lessons should have only been over the course of maybe two weeks. How much sword technique can a sheltered eighteen-year-old girl actually learn in two weeks? Enough to walk around enemy territory with a concealed weapon and be confident enough to use said weapon when needed? Errr... I don’t know fam that just doesn’t seem realistic.

Another related issue I have with Brienna is that I feel like she embraces Maevana as her home incredibly quickly. In The Queen’s Rising we found out that Master Cartier is actually Lord Aodhan Morgane, the son of Kane Morgane who had survived the failed first uprising as an infant. He, like Brienna, spent virtually his entire life growing up in Valenia and was schooled in the passion of knowledge. In The Queen’s Resistance every other chapter was in Cartier’s POV, so we got a lot of glimpses into his personal thoughts and his own struggles with returning to Maevana. Unlike Brienna, Cartier/Aodhan really struggled with settling into Maevana, being a Lord, finding his place in a land that he didn’t grow up in, and trying to be a leader to people he had never met before. A lot of the first half of The Queen’s Resistance was centered around Cartier/Aodhan’s inner turmoil in these regards, whereas Brienna (in BOTH books) never seemed to have this struggle despite having a very similar upbringing. Brienna just seems to fit right into Maevana in a way that doesn’t seem particularly realistic or natural given the circumstances that surround her upbringing.

Now onto the romance! The romance is all centered between Brienna and Cartier, and there are some subtle hints at the beginning of The Queen’s Rising that indicates this is the main relationship throughout the story. However, like the plot this relationship does not really exist or evolve in any way until after the halfway point of the book, when Brienna finds out that Cartier and Lord Morgane are one and the same. Which, by the way, came as a HUGE shocker to me. I DEFINITELY did not see that coming. I assumed Cartier would show up in Maevana in some way or another, but definitely not like that. It was a great twist though, and having both Brienna and Cartier in Allenach’s castle made for a great yet somewhat slow-burn romance. Admittedly, the romance aspect was pretty negligible in The Queen’s Rising. There’s a little bit more emphasis on their relationship in the sequel, but even then it’s not all that much... unfortunately. I really liked these two, and I thought the matching constellations on their passion cloaks were JUST SO DAMN TOUCHING. And the ending of The Queen’s Resistance with the whole golden thread tradition low key had me clutching my chest for a solid two seconds. So the final verdict here is that for the little bits of romance that this series featured, it was beautiful. But ultimately romance wasn’t the focus, nor was it even an emphasis, and if I could have things my way I would’ve definitely liked there to be a little more romance building and one-on-one moments between the pair.

Let’s see... I’m racking my memory for any notable thoughts on some of the side characters. Not gonna lie, Isolde fell pretty flat to me and despite her being the queen I personally could not bring myself to care all that much for her. Luc was a jolly guy, but again not very notable or stand-out-ish in a good way. While it doesn’t bother me, I do have to ask what was the point of Neeve’s character? She shows up in The Queen’s Resistance, and we learn pretty early on that she’s actually another one of Brienna’s half siblings through her father. I don’t understand why Neeve was cast aside by Allenach, after all wasn’t she a daughter that he so desperately wanted? Illegitimacy didn’t matter to him anyway, he could’ve just legitimized her and the fact that Neeve’s mother was dead meant that Allenach didn’t need to worry about anyone influencing Neeve aside from himself. Was Allenach banking THAT much on Brienna? I dunno, none of Neeve’s backstory really makes sense to me or brings much value to the plot either. I like the character just fine, I just don’t understand her purpose... aside from being a long-lost half-sister to the main character.

I also kept thinking Sean Allenach would eventually betray the queen’s side but he never did, which also makes little sense to me. I mean I guess deep down he really is just a good kid, but it just seems so unlikely for that to be the case when both his older brother and his father are incredibly cruel people. I understood why Ewan and Keela didn’t take after their father, Declan Lannon, because after all they always had each other and they had Tomas who was always a good guy trying to set them on a better path. So for Sean, who seemingly did not have any kind of positive influence to counter the shitty influence that is his brother and father, to be such a kind person willing to undermine his own father’s power just seems statistically unlikely I guess?

And finally, the ending of The Queen’s Resistance with the whole thing about Cartier/Aodhan’s mother still being alive was... good GOD. She was the bone sweeper??? SERIOUSLY? Now that’s a fucking plot twist that I would’ve never saw coming. My heart definitely hurt for Lile, and her written account of what had happened to her over the last 25 years nearly brought tears to my eyes. I do wonder though, when Declan said he loved Lile was he referring to romantic love or the love shared between a mother and son? I was assuming the second type of love, since Declan kept referring to Cartier/Aodhan as ‘brother’. But in Lile’s written account of what happened in her life she writes that she took the Lannon name after ten years in the dungeons. I feel like there’s a lot of ambiguity as to what that actually means. Did she essentially become Declan’s consort? Or did she remain a motherly figure to him and her sharing Declan’s family name made it more real for him? I hope it’s the second one, because I would feel VERY uncomfortable if it were the first case.

When I started this series, I thought I had it all figured out. I guessed that Brienna was the rightful Kavanagh queen within the first chapter, but little did I know the author wanted to tell the story about the queen’s right hand woman, not the queen herself. Which is a very unique approach to a story and I think Ross did quite well (despite the queen herself falling flat as a character. Perhaps some sacrifices need to be made if the story is to emphasize someone other than the queen). Again, I do wish there was a bigger emphasis on Brienna and Cartier’s relationship. I enjoyed Brienna enough, but I simply adored Cartier/Aodhan and I admit I really wanted to see more interactions between the two through Cartier’s POV. I almost wish the last chapter of The Queen’s Resistance was written in Cartier’s POV because I wanted to know what thoughts swirled through his head while he was looking for the golden thread in the tapestry. Petitioning for a prequel novella, completely through Cartier’s POV, during the seven years he spent watching Brienna grow up dabbling in other passions before choosing to become a passion of knowledge. I would pay dumb money to read this. And I would go broke, because I would pay a lot of money to read a lot of things.

#book review #rebecca ross #the queen's rising #the queen's resistance #ya fantasy #ya fiction #ya literature #spoilers

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overbakedone · 6 years

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this is the first time i've ever started writing my thoughts and feelings anywhere before. this is not easy.

instead of writing things and then deleting it all because its not good enough or it sounds stupid i'm just going to write it now and stop backspacing. i guess i should start with where i am in life right now so there is some perspective.

im 25, im a bakers apprentice, i live with my parents, i have a girlfriend, lets call her ‘C’ who for the first time feels right to me despite everything, i barely have any friends, they don't ever want to see me, i don't have much time in my life right now, i work all night and struggle to fit sleep into my schedule. but things are really the best they have ever been for me. i just started an AFL 9′s competition, weird i usually have no confidence going into these things and will either quit after the first practice or not even show up, i really kinda enjoyed it and am excited for next week.

i've wanted to start writing anything for a few months now, i guess now i have some time. time is so fucked up, i wish there was more of it, i wish i could sleep without wasting my day, i wish i didn't have to compromise sleep for everything but i do, i guess its part of being a baker, its a job i am loving and i think i've found my life passion but it has its ups and downs. my partner C expects a lot of my time i guess, she can be very needy at times, demanding almost, sometimes i feel pressured by her to sacrifice my sleep, personal plans and hobbies and interests for her, but i know what she feels, she wants the same thing i do. she has problems making friends, or keeping friends, she feels isolated and alone, and she wants my companionship, and i want that too and despite anything i feel in the moment i always feel happy about her at the end of the day.

i should be grateful for the relationship i am in right now, i really should be grateful for a lot of stuff, my parents for allowing me to stay here still, being so supportive and also allowing and accepting of me and really tolerant of the shit i do. ok so i do smoke week every day right so that's already something to do at home that's difficult, i'm pretty sure they know and don't care or even agree that my life has been better since i started smoking, fuck i used to be on antidepressants, i took one every day at a certain time, it made me feel a bit better, ok sounds just like smoking right, expect when i didn't take this pill i got nausea, headaches, severe episodes of depression, i couldn't eat my appetite was so fucked up i was eating one meal a day and it was like a piece of bread or takeaway food. since the smoking started i've found some actual passion in life, i don't feel like a useless number anymore i guess.

one of the things on my mind always is my friends, since i was in highschool i havent really had a group of friends, i feel like i am a social person but then when it comes to it i feel like i just get burned. a lot of my old friends turned out to be secretly hating me and not wanting me around, some sort of pity friendship, i was an asshole in my time and honestly was not a good friend myself, do you pay for the dumb shit you do as a teenager, the people you fuck over go from your life completely yet new people you meet do the same things to you like they know. i had/have a long term best friend, J, we had been mates for years, we worked at my old job dominoes together for a bit, and kinda hung out a few times, but not until we got into PC gaming together did we form a bond. after that we would chat every day, play games together, watch the footy together, go places even though he lived across the city from me. one thing that changed massively in my life was i quit drinking alcohol, and then i felt like all my friends both disagree with my choice and resent me for it, like for some reason i have to take the same drugs they are taking at that time to be their friends. so J has just grown more and more distant, i get that we are older now, we both have partners, jobs that take a lot of our time, but then when we hang out or talk he seems disinterested, more interested with his friends that i introduced him to (from our discord server) and has seemingly replaced me, none of these guys i really like at all, in fact the only one of the new group i like is the one girl in it because she actually has interesting things to say.

fuck that was a paragraph, i guess i should talk about alcohol.

alcohol has fucked up my life, i cant repair the mistakes and stupid things i did while drinking alcohol, so they are there, i guess its just talking about it left. to start off, when i drink alcohol i have a hard time finding my limit, i feel like i swing from nothing to completely blacked out, puking, sobbing and basically hating myself very quick, i feel sick for days after drinking, barely able to eat, leave bed, move, i feel so nauseous and tired, its so fucked up what it does to your body, but oh your mind is even worse. i've broken off relationships, cheated, threatened people, gotten into fights, brawls, got my arm broken, hurt myself repeatedly, gotten arrested and a criminal record that may prevent me from going to canada next year, and is currently delaying booking flights, ive missed work, shown up drunk same clothes no shower to work, but the main thing that alcohol does to me is makes me sad. alcohol makes me so fucking sad, it makes me reach into the deepest pits i can think of and brings out all the emotions that are in there, my ex being the main one. every time i used to drink id think of her, call her, text her, go on her facebook, look up her instagram her twitter, fuck it drive my car to her house to see if her cars there like that does anything or means anything just fucking alcohol is so stupid. i never want to feel like that again, i never want to sabotage my life, sabotage and self destruct my relationships, but i guess losing my friends is the thing i have to take in consideration. australia is a fucked up place, where drinking heavily is the social norm and if you don't get fucked up or even have a beer with mates you're a loser.

i just want a deep connection with my friends. when i was in newcastle with my partner, i met her friends there that she had been living with, despite the fucked up things that happened to her there, she lost a lot of friends herself and a long time friend, had trouble finding new ones, trouble fitting in, the friends she had there were the most honest and truly welcoming, connecting people ive met, and i miss that. i miss having a friend you can just, go over to their place, sit around for 3-4 hours talking shit, laughing, listening to music, relaxing and sharing stories and shit. weird that people can have such an effect on you in a short time. the life i live here is full of making plans, only for them to be cancelled, inviting friends over, for nobody to show up, cancelled plans all the fucking time, i've never been asked to just come over and chill, never its always some group thing that i'm invited to as well. i even try talking to them about this, i told a group of girl friends i have, i miss you all and haven't seen you in so long, we need to have a casual hangout, and the message was almost completely ignored, i asked them all to come to mind to watch the grand final, the house was free, i got a big projector screen, big comfy couch, live central right in the middle of everyone, nobody even replied or brought it up again, yet the second someone else that lives in the far corners of perth brought it up everyone started chatting about their plan to go. so if that's not my friends making it obvious they don't want to see me, they only include me then thats fucked up. i don't know what to say, this happens all the time, my 21st birthday i invited 65 people, and less than 15 people showed up. its hard to keep trying, always trying, i always try to make social events, i always ask friends what they are doing, when they can see me, make plans, they get cancelled, they are busy, they say they're coming then don't show up, most of the time i never hear a word too, they just dont show and don't even apologize, is that a fair thing to do, yeah sometimes i dont go to my friends events, i'm too fucking tired or just don't feel like going, somethings come up, i tell them straight away i cant make it i'm sorry this has come up, yet i don't get the same courtesy.

am i an unlikable person

the guys at work seem to like me, so i started a baking apprenticeship, basically i started watching great british bake off and picked it up as a hobby, making cakes and stuff, actually i should go back. so i used to work in some shitty small software company in the city, 9-5, peak hour traffic, office drama, workplace bullies, understaffed, overworked, red tape and bullshit everywhere, i quit after 2.5 years for mental health reasons, i made a lot of money but had to move on, so i spent a year off , it was only supposed to be a few months, go on a holiday road trip with my then partner, S, she broke up with me via a text message right after eagles lost to melbourne at home, basically the footy game was more disappointing, we had a shit relationship, i think i resented her, i cheated on her, yeah i'm an awful person and deserve everything, she was an emotionally manipulative person, terrified of her own body and sex, tried to dominate my life and change me, im glad we broke up. so i stayed unemployed for a long time, over a year, barely looking, until i found this baking apprenticeship, not only did i apply for the job and write a completely custom cover letter (im so fucking lazy i usually close a job application the second it requires anything more than an apply button) AND i called back a few weeks later when i heard nothing, well turns out that call landed me the job, the apprentice they hired instead of me was useless, had no passion and was a slow worker. so i got the job, and basically have been killing it ever since, i get a lot of praise at work (lots of criticism too) baking is one of those things that takes time, its all about time, so i got a lot to learn but i am actually confident once in my life, holy shit i have a job i like and am good at. is this the dream?> lol

so today i started writing my feelings down, and its kinda felt good, but i'm exhausted now, and my fingers hurt, so this is the end of my first post, i hope nobody reads it, its really just for me but i don't know.

thanks for listening i guess

#self #baking #life #thoughts

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ellanainthetardis · 6 years

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Hayffie discuss heavy things today! I hope you will enjoy this chapter! (assuming people are still reading lmao)

[ff] or [ao3]

56. 7 Months & 19 Weeks

April let out a small whine at the next boom of thunder and Effie automatically ran her hand up and down her back to soothe her.

“Shh, darling… There is nothing to be afraid about.” she hummed. “Hush, little baby don’t you cry… Mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby…”

She kept on singing softly but April didn’t really calm down.

The lighting storm was bad and Effie honestly didn’t know how Haymitch was sleeping through it. She had been awake and staring at the wall, trying not to flinch with every new roar of thunder, long before she had heard April stirring through the baby monitor. She had reached the nursery before the girl had started wailing but it had been a close thing. Snowball too had been awake, pacing around the crib, not quite at ease.

She had hesitated, of course, mindful of the doctor’s recommendations about picking her up. But when April had gripped the crib’s bars tight and hauled herself up, not quite understanding why her mother wasn’t offering the comfort she needed, Effie had given up on prudence and had lifted her up in her arms. She had been careful about it but she had felt much better once her daughter had been nestled against her chest, her little head tucked under her chin.

She had gone downstairs to let Haymitch rest and had settled on the couch with the throw away blanket. Now April was sitting on her stretched legs, Snowball was curled up in his bed next to the roaring fireplace and Effie had a front row seat to the lightning storm outside.

“Do you know you were born on a night like this?” Effie smiled at April, picking up the pacifier the girl had just spat, watching her as she rubbed the cat rag doll against her face, betraying how tired she was. She didn’t want to lie down though. Every time Effie settled her against her, her daughter wriggled and rolled back to a sitting position. “Thunder can be scary but it can bring good things too, you see?”

It would bring nothing good to the District. December wasn’t yet as harsh as it had been the previous year but there had been a few snow falls already and the violent rain would transform Twelve into a giant mud pit. The faint honking of the geese in the distance told her the birds weren’t any happier about the weather than her daughter and her dog were but she estimated that if they could survive a blizzard in their pen, they could live through a lightning storm. She would have gone and checked if she had been truly worried but she really didn’t want to get wet just because Haymitch’s birds were getting nervous.

“Look how beautiful the sky is, darling…” she insisted, turning April a little to the right so she could see through the window over the edge of the couch. The dark night sky was regularly struck by a flash of lightning that allowed her to see the whole street as if it was daytime. It only lasted a second, then she only had time to count to five before thunder boomed. “The storm is over our heads…”

Or it would be really soon.

The lamp she had turned on kept flickering and she was quite sure electricity would give in before the end of the night. It was a recurrent problem in Twelve.

April didn’t like the sight. She let out a sound of protest and plummeted forward. Effie caught her and broke her fall before she could hit her stomach. The almost eight months old baby wasn’t the only one who wasn’t liking the storm. Effie hauled her up closer to her chest, letting her snuggle, and rubbed her round belly with her free hand, hoping to soothe the relentless kicking that had begun a few minutes earlier.

She smiled when she realized she could feel the hits under her palm and automatically strained her neck to look in the direction of the dark corridor. Haymitch would have liked to feel Aidan but she didn’t want to make the trip up the stairs and she wasn’t sure she wanted to wake him up either.

Ever since Larcher had told them about her condition… Haymitch was impossible.

She knew he meant well and she had expected him to become overprotective but… Well, she wasn’t sure she would be able to bear four months and a half more of this. He was constantly looking over her shoulder, barely ever leaving her side – she had been forced to slam the bathroom door in his face more than once – cautioning her to be careful every time she did something else than lie on the couch or their bed. The other day, she had begged Katniss to take him and Snowball to the woods just so she could breathe.

Katniss, who understood the need for some alone time all too well, had been good enough to not only drag a kicking and screaming Haymitch away but to keep him there for a couple of hours. Peeta had refused to leave her alone in the house – just in case – but had stuck to the kitchen, leaving her upstairs by herself, free to do whatever she had wished.

She felt like a prisoner in her own home.

Eileen visited her now and then but between the coffee shop, the weather and her own children, her visits were unfortunately short and few in between.

Since she wasn’t allowed to do the laundry – a task that had been delegated to Peeta because Haymitch couldn’t be trusted not to shrink everything or turn it pink – or the cleaning – that was now Katniss’ chore, and Effie was too polite to say anything but she was desperate to be more thorough than the girl – and had basically been forbidden to do anything judged taxing, all she could do was sit and busy herself sketching clothes or knitting or sewing.

She loved doing those things but it used to be a hobby and now it was something she did to not go crazy with inactivity. Even her time with April was under scrutiny. Someone was always popping their head in the room to make sure she wasn’t overdoing it or doing something that could be dangerous for her or the baby she was carrying.

She sighed and placed her hand on the back of her daughter’s head.

“They will drive me insane long before this baby is born.” she told her very seriously. April wriggled and rolled again so Effie helped her sit up once more, pursing her lips at her. “You should really try to sleep now. You will be a very cranky girl tomorrow.” She got a sharp noise in answer and a long stride of gibberish nonsense that made her smile. “Can you say Mama? Ma-ma…”

It was too early for that probably but April seemed to be a master at “ba-bla-bah” noises and it really wasn’t that far in sound…

April wasn’t really interested in learning to talk though. She brought the rag doll to her mouth to suck on it and Effie quickly took it away to replace it with the pacifier. “Don’t do that. It is filthy. The cat is for cuddles, not for chewing.”

Unconcerned with her rebukes, her daughter sucked on the pacifier, coiling her small fingers around her wrist with surprising strength. Effie was always surprised at how strong she could be. Thunder boomed and April startled badly. Her grip on Effie’s arm tightened when she let out a sharp cry, the pacifier falling from her mouth yet again.

“It’s alright, darling.” Effie promised, wiping the tears from her daughter’s cheeks and making soothing noises. “Mama’s here. Mama’s here.” After a few minutes, April calmed down enough to accept the pacifier back but she was clearly sulking. Effie bumped her playfully on the nose with the rag doll, relinquishing the toy when the baby grabbed it to cuddle. “Mama will always be here, darling. Always.”

One of her hands left April’s hips to rest on her stomach and she briefly closed her eyes.

At least, I hope so, she thought.

She had read everything that were in the books about her condition and she couldn’t say she was reassured by the knowledge it wasn’t an uncommon thing. She had never heard of placenta praevia before but according to the books, it wasn’t that surprising. They were more common in pregnancies that were close together so it made sense that it would be a thing in the Districts where protection had never been available. Pregnancies in the Districts also often resulted in still-born babies, miscarriages and dead mothers. Before the war, at least. Things were better now.

Still, it was a risky pregnancy. A few books advised abortion if it was too serious and if it was detected soon enough.

They hadn’t discussed it – they hadn’t discussed the situation properly since coming back from the clinic – but she supposed Haymitch had read the same things she had and that it was why he was so frayed with worry. She suspected he hardly slept. When she woke up in the morning, he was always lying next to her, watching her wistfully. He ran around the house all day, either trying to make himself useful by taking care of April or fetching things Effie hadn’t requested and didn’t need in a self-professed quest to make her feel better.

He was trying to hide his shaking hands from her but she had noticed the tremors and the headaches. She knew what it meant. She wished he would tell her when he was struggling with the urge to drink but she knew better than confronting him about it.

They were both trying to avoid or delay a fight that seemed to her inevitable.

“If… If I have to leave you, April…” she whispered, not quite sure why she was saying that at all. It felt like bad luck to think about it. But she also knew firsthand how fragile life was and… “You have to know I fought as hard as I could to stay. I love you so much…” She sighed and dropped her head against the back of the couch, barely hearing the next boom of thunder. “I would die for you, you know. In a heartbeat. And I would die for your brother too. And… And it might not be fair but I know you will be alright because your papa will be here to take care of you, of both of you and…”

Her eyes filled with tears that she blinked away.

The idea that she might not be able to see April grow up, to even see Aidan at all… It was too much. Not only unfair but suffocating because of how painful it was.

She didn’t know if she was being overdramatic or not. The children and Haymitch’s behavior didn’t help. She felt on borrowed time, frail and breakable. The knowledge that a C-section was surely waiting at the end of the road was hard to bear. The prospect of staying in a hospital again…

She had faced death before. She had been desperate for it at times. But right then… Right then dying terrified her more than it had ever done.

“I’m gonna fall apart if I lose you.”

The words were delivered in a quiet matter-of-fact voice just behind her and she startled badly. April, at least, seemed happy for it, she outstretched a grabby hand in her father’s direction, making becoming noises around her pacifier, her wish clear.

“No, you won’t.” she countered while Haymitch stepped around the couch to join them. He sat next to her and held their daughter’s hand. “You will take care of the children.”

“I’ll drown in a bottle.” he retorted in an angry growl. “I won’t off myself ‘cause, yeah, there are the kids to think about, provide for. But I sure as hell know myself, sweetheart. I lose you, I fall apart.”

“Haymitch…” she sighed.

“I mean it.” he snapped. Of course, it was the moment the electricity chose to shut down, leaving them in an ominous darkness. Neither of them did well with darkness. She wasn’t surprised when he stood up to stroke the fire. “You can’t die. That’s behind us. You can’t leave me with two babies and just say I’m gonna be fine ‘cause I need to take care of them. You can’t just opt out. We said we were doing this together, Effie. Together.”

“Well, I certainly never said I wanted or was planning on dying, Haymitch.” she snapped. “I simply said…”

“You said, it comes down to a choice, we need to put the baby first and I say…” he shot back.

“I cannot lose another child.” she cut him off.

“And we cannot lose you.” he spat. “So where does that leave us, sweetheart? You tell me.”

“Hopefully, with both the baby and me healthy and alive.” she deadpanned. She shook her head, distractedly combing her fingers through April’s hair when she startled at another round of thunder. “I do not want to die, Haymitch. But, yes, if it comes down to a choice between the baby and me…”

“No.” he scowled.

“He is your child too.” she reminded him, angry on the baby’s behalf.

“You think I don’t know?” he snarled. “You think the thought of losing him doesn’t kill me? You think it’s easy for me to say I’d let our baby die just to save you?” His jaw clenched and he turned away from her. The flames were projecting strange shadows on his face and she couldn’t read his features. “I need you, Effie. The kids need you. We can survive without this boy, we can’t survive without you. It’s just the clever choice to make. It’s the only…”

“This isn’t the Hunger Games, Haymitch.” she interrupted again.

How many times had they done that? Had that particular conversation? Always in the dead of night as if it would make it easier, usually in front of the bay window with a bottle of whiskey for him and a cigarette for her. It had always been a debate, sometimes just for the sake of it, because they both felt choosing which tribute to favor warranted it, when they had both already known which child had the best chance of making it – and often both agreed that neither of them would last more than five minutes.

He flinched. “I know.”

“Do you?” she wondered.

He was silent for a long moment and then his shoulders slouched. “I can’t lose you. Don’t ask me to.”

“I am not asking you to.” she breathed out. “I want to live. Don’t you think I want to live? I won’t lie to you, it hasn’t always been like that. There were days…” She shook her head, not needing to remind him the state she had been in when she had first come to Twelve. “I want to live, Haymitch. So badly. I want to see my children grow up and have babies of their own. I want… I want to dance with you at Katniss and Peeta’s wedding. I want to grow old with you. I want so many things…”

Haymitch walked back to the couch slowly and dropped next to her again. April was tired and cranky but once he nestled her between them, with her head on his chest, she calmed down. Effie kept running her fingers in her daughter’s blond hair, listening to the gibberish she babbled around her pacifier.

“It is all very premature anyway.” she declared, trying to sound dismissive but failing. “We do not know what will happen.”

He said nothing. Not for a long time.

April was asleep and she had rested her own head on his shoulder, slowly but steadily drifting off, when he finally spoke. “We need to update our wills.”

“What?” she frowned.

“I hate this.” he grumbled and she knew the only reason he didn’t fidget or kick something was the sleeping baby on his chest. “I fucking hate this but it got me thinking… There’s nothing in our wills about what happens to our kids if we both die or are incapacitated.”

She realized that he was right. “Oh… Well… I do not see why you would…”

“Come on.” he scoffed. “Let’s not pretend I’m gonna stay healthy forever.”

“Haymitch.” she growled.

“Yeah, not so fun to think about the one you love dying, is it?” he taunted but then shook his head. “We should decide. Just in case.”

She pursed her lips and curled up tighter against his side, resting her hand on April’s head. “Alright.”

After a few minutes spent in silence, he snorted. “So? Who’s your first choice? Please, don’t say your family.”

“Of course not.” she scoffed. “I suppose Annie and Johanna come to mind but…”

“They already have Finn.” he finished. “And I’m not sure they can cope with three kids.”

“Exactly.” She made a face. “We would have to ask them and they are awfully young to shoulder such a responsibility and Katniss probably wouldn’t be one hundred percent alright with it but…”

“Yeah.” he said immediately. “The kids are my first choice too.”

“Yes.” she agreed with some relief. It was a very obvious decision and she didn’t know why she had expected that to be more difficult than it was.

She pulled the blankets higher over her, covering his lap and April too. They should all head back to bed, she supposed, keep April in their room if it would make the girl feel better but she didn’t really want to move. The storm was moving on and she found some peace in watching the lightning in the sky.

“I want this baby too, you know.” he said quietly, letting his head drop on top of hers. “Just… I don’t know, sweetheart… We went from being happy to being all… scared in a second and…” He shrugged. “The media circus doesn’t help.”

The press, as was only to be expected, was all over her pregnancy like vultures despite the official statement they had passed along through Plutarch, confirming that Effie was pregnant again and asking them once more to respect their privacy. She hadn’t thought it would work but she had still hoped for some decency.

Some paparazzi were apparently camping in front of her parents’ house, harassing them for information. Her father was forced to call Peacekeepers twice a day.

She resolutely chased her parents from her mind. She hadn’t told them about her problems, knowing her mother would fuss and insist on coming to stay with them. Neither she nor Haymitch would survive that right then.

“I know.” she sighed. “We shouldn’t think about it this way, though. We cannot live in fear for the next five months. We have to be happy and see the bright side… We have a healthy daughter and Doctor Larcher promised me the baby is doing fine for now…”

“Yeah.” he smirked. “True. We should start working on April’s room.”

They had put that on the backburner along with the nursery. They had been living in a sort of limbo for two weeks and it wouldn’t do at all.

“Yes.” she said resolutely. “We will do that. Tomorrow. And we will pick some furniture for the nursery. Mother sent magazines.”

“Alright.” he snorted indulgently. “We’re just gonna… We’re gonna focus on the happy stuff.”

“Exactly.” she grinned. “Speaking of…” She grabbed the hand with which he wasn’t holding April and brought it to her stomach, shifting a little so the angle wasn’t painful for him. “Just wait for it.”

He had to wait five minutes but she knew from her previous pregnancy that he could wait a lot longer to feel a kick. He loved that: feeling the baby kick.

His face lit up when he felt their son for the first time under his palm. Her grin widened.

“Hello, jellyfish.” he murmured, gently rubbing his thumb on her round baby bump.

She chuckled. “See? This is what we should focus on. Happy moments. All those first times…”

“Like April saying Mama for the first time?” he teased. “Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been training her.”

“Like you haven’t been trying to make her say Papa behind my back.” she chuckled. “Do not think you can keep any secret from me, Haymitch. I know you too well.”

She expected a witty retort, some more banter… What she got was an almost brutal kiss that took her breath away.

He licked his lips when he drew back, his grey eyes far too bright.

“Yeah, you do.” he whispered softly.

And because she did, she heard what he wasn’t saying.

Don’t ever leave me, Princess.

It wasn’t a promise she could make but she would certainly try her best not to.

“We will all be fine.” she declared. “You will see. In five months, we will have another baby and we will all fine and this will all feel like bad dream. We have to believe it.”

Blind hope had never been his thing. He was too much of a down-to-earth person for that.

However, he forced a smirk and purposefully stroke her belly with his thumb. “Alright. No more gloomy thoughts.”

She rewarded him with a bright smile and another kiss.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #april showers

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obstacles100 · 7 years

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Tegan and Sara on being honest with your collaborator

Name

Tegan and Sara Quin

Vocation

Musicians

Fact

Tegan and Sara is the Grammy-nominated Canadian pop duo of twin sisters Tegan and Sara Quin. They performed “Everything Is Awesome,” their The Lego Movie collaboration with the Lonely Island, at the 2015 Oscars. Their eighth album, Love You to Death, was released in June 2016.

Photo credit: Pamela Littky

March 2, 2017 - Grammy-nominated pop duo Tegan and Sara Quin discuss how having creative different approaches has kept their band interesting and why you don't need to be your collaborator's cheerleader. As told to Brandon Stosuy, 2864 words.

You have a long-term creative partnership. Is writing music still complicated, or do you have it down?

Tegan: I definitely don’t feel like we have it down. Every record poses new problems or challenges. In my opinion, what’s kept our band interesting is that we definitely approach music, our career, production, all of it, pretty differently from one another. We’re very Yin and Yang. We compliment each other. I do think we push each other, too. We’re not making a Sara record or a Tegan record ever—we’re always making some sort of compromise between where we both want to be.

For instance, Sara keeps saying to me—she’s said it about about three times now in the last six months—she keeps talking about Nashville and writing with country singers. That makes me want to quit our band. So annoying. Not because I don’t think Nashville or country singers are great, I just wish she’d stop projecting. I can feel her projecting. I don’t know if this is true, but I feel like she’s annoyed with pop music or annoyed with what’s happening in the mainstream, so now she’s picking some sort of alternative direction. I just hate that she’s trying to influence me to go in that direction.

First of all, I don’t feel prepared to write a new record now anyway, so why are we even talking about it? Stuff like that will happen, but that’s our process. Then I’ll start playing things. Like the other day I played some rough demos and Sara basically checked her text messages, then never commented about the song.

Sara: That’s not true. That is not true! [laughs]

Tegan: But that’s part of the process between Tegan and Sara. That’s part of what makes our band cool. First of all, neither one of us is ever blowing hot air at the other one, neither one of us is ever saying what they think the other one wants to hear—neither one of us ever goes out of our way to do that. It’s not that we don’t want to compromise, but we don’t start from a place of compromise. We negotiate until we get to a place where we’re both happy. So, we always start by truly projecting what we want. I think we do it in a way that’s mostly conflict free because it’s a safe space. Sara doesn’t have to get the cheerleader pom poms out when I play a new song. She doesn’t need to. I know Sara respects me, I know Sara likes what I do. The process is super interesting. From my perspective it’s the same as it always was, it really hasn’t changed.

Sara: To be fair… When I think about working in a band or collaborating with each other, it’s so much more serious than a hobby. This isn’t a jam band where we get together on the weekend. Tegan’s not my child who I have to coddle and help raise her self-esteem. I mean, we are grown women. We’re 36 years old. At this point, we’ve been very lucky to make ourselves a comfortable and exciting career. We didn’t get there by lying to each other and saying, “Nice song, Tegan. You’ve got some real skills.” I’m just like—either I like it or I don’t. I’m not here to go, “Wow, Tegan. It seems like you really spent a great deal of time on those demos.” [both laugh]

Tegan, you said you’re not necessarily ready to start working on a new record. When you’re in this space, between records, do you do anything to nourish your creative side? Do you have side projects or do other kinds of things? Or is it more like getting caught up on reading books and doing other stuff?

Sara: Kind of all of the above.

Tegan: Yeah. It’s a bit of all of it. I mean, we both write. Even though I’m not ready to go in and make a new record, I love making music all the time. I love repurposing old demos. We’re always open to submitting stuff for soundtracks. I definitely keep the creative juices going.

Right now, it’s almost like we’re just taking in everything we possibly can. I think that will influence the record. The longer we wait and the more we read and see films and experience stuff and let time pass, the more interesting our next record will be. That’s how I always think about it. It’s not that I don’t like writing, I write in between records. But I still like the longer we wait to write, or the longer we wait to really follow through with those ideas, the better the songs will be because more time will have passed.

Sara: You’re absorbing and hunting and gathering. For me, it’s like all of the things that were influencing me leading up to the record, I need time for those things to get out of my system. I don’t want to rush into doing something and then maybe accidentally be still drawn to the same sounds or the same sort of progressions. Right now, it’s really interesting listening to all the production and all the big singles and albums coming out. I almost feel like you have to let that wave go. For me, it’s almost like patience, waiting for that series of breaks to happen. Then I can potentially make space to see what’s going to come down the pike later. I don’t want to make records that sound like what’s happening right now. You almost need time to absorb enough different things that you create something new.

Tegan: I think being uncomfortable, being outside your comfort zone, and being in a room with strangers are really great techniques to challenge yourself. I think also as women, there’s probably been this thing where Sara and I do have to prove ourselves every time. There is no comfort for me in music. There is no comfort in writing. I can’t imagine a time—I don’t know that this is a bad thing either—where I’m like, “Yeah. I’m the best,” and so confident. When I see artists talking about how good they are, propping themselves up and talking about how they’re geniuses… I just don’t ever see a time where I’ll be like that, and I’m okay with that. It makes me uncomfortable. It makes me have to try harder. I don’t think I’ll ever become so comfortable that I’d just phone it in. I think it’s a strength that we have to constantly prove ourselves.

Do have techniques to help you move past creative blocks?

Tegan: If I start to feel bored or blocked or frustrated with something, I’m comfortable walking away. When I was younger, I pushed through or forced it… but in the last five or six years, I’ll literally close a session and be like, “I’ll go back to this in a day or in a week or two weeks.” The second I give it space, I tend to feel more motivated to go back into it.

If I’ve written a track and try to come up with a cool melody or whatever, and if I start to feel strained or I can’t figure out what to do, I will all of a sudden change the way I’m listening to it. I’ll put it on different speakers. I’ll walk around or do something else. I have this little trampoline in my studio office; I’ll jump on it and do other things. For me, it’s a change of scenery. Whether it’s something super temporary or a small change just in the house or actually shutting the session down.

Sometimes there just needs to be faith. I’m an earworm person. If something isn’t catchy… or if I work on something for 20 or 30 minutes, stop, and then can’t sing the melody back to you, then to me it’s no good. So, I like to delete things. Often I find if I’m struggling, I’ll erase something because I don’t think it’s good. When I’ve written something that’s good, I just know it’s good. I don’t think you can force something to be good. It’s either good or it’s not.

Sara: On one hand, I totally agree with Tegan. But, I also totally disagree. I’m like, “No way. You have to work on things for a long to make them good. You can’t know after 30 minutes. That’s insane.”

Tegan: Well, that’s why I walk away. That’s the thing—if I’m doubtful, I’ll walk away and come back. There’s nothing more exciting than working on something, going for dinner or going on tour for three weeks, coming home, opening up a session and being like, “Oh shit, that was really good. Why didn’t I feel like it was good in the moment?” I have absolutely no problem walking away from things, but I also feel confident that I’ll be able to replace it with something better.

Sara: I think this is where we’re very different, because I have a hard time letting things go. I will definitely know when to stop working on something, but I’ll go back to it over and over and over and over again, and think to myself, “Maybe if I hear it fresh, I’ll still want to work on it.” Whereas I know that Tegan probably would have totally trashed the session. I’ll definitely still take little shots at it.

I have songs from a few albums ago where I’ve kept certain lyrics or melodies. I’ll sort of hold onto them and think, “The rest of this is garbage but this thing still means something. I’m just not sure exactly how it will fit into the future.” But if I keep revisiting it, one day it’ll work. I know this sounds so stupid, but sometimes I almost feel like it’s not the right time for it to happen now. It’s almost like a science fiction thing where it’s foreshadowing, and it will eventually make sense. Then eventually I’ll open a session and think, “I know exactly what this needs. It needs these lyrics, that line, or that melody from that other thing I did five years ago.”

Do you find the current political situation influencing how you think you want to go forward with your music, or what you want to say with your music?

Tegan: For most of our career there would be a push from the queer community, or the LGBTQ community, for Sara and me to be more outspoken about LGBTQ rights. Isn’t it powerful enough that we’re two openly queer women who are on the radio? We’re opening for Katy Perry or Neil Young. Isn’t that in itself a really incredible, progressive act? Do we actually have to get up there and draw their attention to it? Then there was the whole part of our career where we were like, “Well, that’s not good enough, we do want to draw attention.”

On some level, I often reject this idea that I have to be saying something intensely political to be political. I just feel like at this point, it’s still pretty obvious to me that being outspoken, queer, feminists in the mainstream is already still a pretty political move, if you think about it.

Sara: Tegan and I have talked a lot on this recent tour actually, about a few songs off of our new album. When we were making the album, I didn’t necessarily think of them as being explicitly political. But in the months after we released the album, suddenly they took on a very different feeling. There’s a song on the record, “Be With You,” which for me is a political song about my choice as a queer woman—and just as a human being—not to participate in marriage. I have an incredibly difficult time with the institution of marriage. I feel like it’s been a struggle for me to participate authentically in the marriage equality movement on a personal level because I just wish we were just… My politics are radical, and I want to dismantle the institution, not invite gay people in. But then when I step outside of my own personal views, I’ve been really moved by the movement and feel it’s really important in terms of establishing equal rights for LGBTQ people. But interestingly, when we were releasing the album I didn’t necessarily think the song was that political.

In today’s climate, every night that we play this song, there’s this really intense, visceral response from people in the audience. I see grown men singing along at the top of their lungs. I’m like, “What does it mean to them? Why is this song resonating?” Sometimes I think to myself, “Oh, If Tegan and myself weren’t 5’2, pop girls, would it be different?” “If Fugazi was singing ‘Be With You’ would it be like a political anthem?” Is it because we’re not men? Is it because we’re not screaming? Is it because there’s no guitars, or swords, or blood?

Tegan: On this last tour, we just toured through Europe. The reaction to “Be With You” was much more visible. Sara and I were hypothesizing backstage about it a few nights in a row. She was saying, “Are they singing along because they’re also feeling against marriage?” All these gay guys and all these people standing there. I was laughing and saying that my theory was that this was because in most of the countries we just toured in for the last month, gay marriage is not legal. So, to me, when I heard the song the first time, what moved me so profoundly was that I didn’t hear it the way that Sara had written it, right? I listen to Sara’s music as if it’s just a song I’m hearing.

I heard the song as, even though I can’t marry you, I don’t care, I don’t need it, so promise me your first born, so promise me these things, it doesn’t matter. So, when I was looking out into the audience in Europe in most of these countries where gay marriage is still not legal, I was seeing these people say, “I love you anyway. It doesn’t matter that the institution doesn’t accept us.” It’s just so interesting how differently even Sara and I see the audience and feel that political undertone.

Five things / inspirations/ ideas to recommend to someone who wanted to know more about our work:

Tegan and Sara: The Official Vinyl Collection is a good place to start if you’re looking for a sample of our older work. Often described as “indie rock” or “indie pop.” These were our guitar and synth driven days of less polished, melancholic albums. The collection includes home recordings and demos that strip back the production and expose our early songwriting.

The Minipops! A British television show that we watched feverishly as children. It was our introduction into pop music—the twist being that the music was performed and sung by pre-teens dressed up to look like the original stars of the songs. Favorite performance was “I Love Rock and Roll.”

We don’t remember any controversy but as adults when we revisited the program we learned the show was cancelled after one season!

From Wiki:

“Though the series was a success for Channel 4 (gaining 2,000,000 viewers), little thought was given to the ethics of child performers singing songs originally written for older artists and dressing and dancing in a provocative style (often influenced by the original performance). Whilst embraced by children who loved the idea of ordinary children singing and dancing (as they did) along with their favourite songs, the show sat uneasily with some adults; this was capped by a performance from five-year-old Joanna Fisher, who covered the Sheena Easton song “9 to 5�� (known as “Morning Train” in the U.S.) in nightclothes and included the lyrics “night time is the right time, we make love”.”

Bruce Springsteen, The River, Live 1975-85

We listened to this version of The River (with gorgeous extended intro) hundreds of times growing up. Our step dad would blast it through our house-wide speaker system, or in the minivan on long drives to visit his family in BC. As moody, sullen teenagers we’d listen in the dark of our bedrooms on full blast. Springsteen’s storytelling was deeply influential and is possibly what inspired our instinct to tell stories about our lives at our first performances as a band. Partly to pass the time, we never had more than a dozen songs at less than 2 minutes each, but also because it seemed like what you were supposed to do before you performed a song.

Teganandsarafoundation.org

A great deal of our energy and time is now focused on the Tegan and Sara Foundation. Launching the foundation will allow us to be more strategic about our advocacy and public activism around health, representation and economic justice of self identified LGBTQ women and girls.

Cats. Just google “cats”. Videos, music, articles, memes. We really can’t get enough.

#tegan and sara #quin #Tegan and Sara on being honest with your collaborator

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rangergirl3 · 7 years

Text

40 Questions — Meme for Fic Writers

Saw this cool list of questions going around and thought I’d try to answer a few of ‘em. :-)

1) Describe your comfort zone - a typical you fic.

Oh, definitely hurt/comfort, both of the physical and emotional variety. Someone protects someone they care about, the protector gets injured in one way or another, and then the team comes together to help take care of them.

It’s a simple formula, but I love it dearly. :-)

That being said, I’m not really comfortable with putting characters into certain kinds of bad situations, but that’s more due to my personal knee-jerk reactions to some ...uh...’mature real-life situations’. I like to keep my fics intense and interesting, but you really won’t find anything too dark in my fics. There can be a fair amount of blood and violence, though.

2) Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Not really...? I mean, I mostly just stick with character interactions and the good old gen formula, because it’s what I love to see with most characters in shows I watch.

3) Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole?

I can’t bear to write anything where innocents don’t get out of danger. I prefer the villains to get their asses emphatically handed to them.

4) How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Some assorted ideas, mostly still located in my ‘Lost Paladins’ series. That series really burns a hole in my brain most days. It’s fun. :-) One of the ideas I’ve had is the reunion between Shiro and Matt and Sam Holt. I’m looking forward to getting that down at some point.

5) Share one of your strengths.

I’m fiercely loyal to those I love, and I am also very empathetic.

6) Share one of your weaknesses.

I have been known to be a little bit overprotective...okay...actually more than a little. :-) I really have to struggle sometimes to rein back what I’ve taken to calling my ‘Red Lion instincts’ and let the people I love fight their own battles. :) However, I’m always ready on the sidelines to encourage them like the Genii in Aladdin. “Jafar, Jafar, he’s our man, but if he can’t do it, GREAT!”

7) Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Oh, man, it’s hard to choose, but this moment from ‘Misadventures in Babysitting’ was one I’m pretty proud of. (Here’s a link to the full story: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8472229/chapters/19412305)

Keith stopped when he saw a ventilation shaft in the tunnel ahead of him.

He still couldn't hear anyone behind them, but he had no time to waste.

He had to hide Beyris, he had to hide her now.

Keith quickly removed the grate from the ventilation tunnel and lifted Beyris inside.

"Here - Beyris - you can hide in here - "

As he lifted her up into the ventilation shaft, Beyris looked up into his face, and suddenly she looked - scared. Her lower lip started to tremble, and Keith felt as if he would have preferred a kick to the face.

"Keith - why - why are your teeth sharp?"

"Uh - I - I - "

Even as he spoke, Keith heard faint noises echoing in the tunnels far behind him. He made a decision then, and he hoped it was the right one.

"Beyris, I'm your friend. I'm Lance's friend. And - I - I have to go fight those guys now."

Beyris still seemed scared, but she nodded. "O-o-kay- but - but what should I do?"

Keith pointed at the comms unit in her hand, even as he pushed her farther down the tunnel, so she'd be out of sight.

"Hold onto that. Your uncle's coming to find you - just - don't let anyone hear you, or see you. You have to stay hidden, all right?"

He had a sudden inspiration, something that might help her. He shrugged out of his jacket and covered her with it, like it was a blanket.

"Listen, this will help you stay hidden - uh - just - pretend you're playing hide and go seek. I'm going to lead them away from you, so you just stay quiet, okay?"

She pulled the jacket over her, and Keith saw that it seemed to help, at least a little. Her clawed fingers were still shaking, but not as hard.

"It's soft," she said. "I - I like it."

Keith lifted the grate back up, but just before he put it back into place, he grinned at her and winked, like Lance would have. "Don't tell anyone, okay? They have to think I'm tough."

She smiled then, tremulously, but it was genuine. "Okay."

Keith heard the noises getting louder. He didn't want to leave her, but he had no choice.

He finished securing the grate firmly back into place. Now even he couldn't see where she was hiding. The darkness of the ventilation shaft would keep Beyris hidden until Rayzor or the other Paladins came for her.

"Wait for your uncle," he said. Without waiting for an answer, he turned and sprinted down the corridor, away from where she hid, down into the maze of tunnels where the enemy was looking for him.

He couldn't avoid Jenick or his men forever.

But he could make sure they didn't find Beyris.

I’m proud of this segment because it marks a turning point in the next few stories. I can’t say too much without giving things away, but yeah...this scene was definitely a turning point. Also, one of my favorite characters got to be protective. *Cue me loving it. :-)*

8) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

*rubs hands together gleefully* Oh, this one’s easy to pick. Spoiler alert: This is a pretty pivotal moment in the story ‘Family Is More Than Blood’- the link is here http://archiveofourown.org/works/8472328?view_full_work=true, so skip over this one if you haven’t read that story yet. ;-)

The Black Paladin's eyes were hard, and his voice was quiet.

"If I chose to," Shiro said, "I could crush your throat and leave you here to die. Or, I could throw you against the wall, and let you live with a broken spine."

Jenick tried to get free then, but Shiro shook him, just once, and Jenick froze again, his breaths coming faster and faster in rising panic.

"Listen, Jenick," Shiro said. "I want you. to listen. to. me."

Jenick nodded, almost frantically, and Shiro continued speaking in that same flat, even tone.

"I could kill you in any number of ways. Hell, it's taking every ounce of self-control I have not to snap your neck or crush your skull, right here, right now."

Shiro drew in a breath then, and his fingers tightened on the front of Jenick's shirt as he let the breath out again, and he shook Jenick again, just once, but hard enough to make Jenick's teeth rattle in his head.

"But - despite all that - I'm going to let you live. Do you know why I'm going to let you live, Jenick?"

Jenick shook his head.

"I am going to let you live because I refuse to be like you. I refuse to let my rage control me. And that - that and that alone - is why I'll even consider allowing you to leave this room breathing."

Shiro's eyes were still flat and hard, and he brought Jenick closer, so they were nose to nose. "Do I make myself clear, Jenick?"

Jenick nodded, still speechless with fear, and Shiro growled at him then. His voice was hard, almost guttural, and it was terrifying to hear up close.

"I want to hear you say it."

I LOVE this particular bit of dialogue for so many reasons. I love it because when a good man goes to war, you really don’t want to be on the wrong side of the fight. The emotions in this moment just felt so real the whole time I was writing them. I could just see everything happening inside my head, and it was glorious.

9) Which fic has been the hardest to write?

Honestly, I’d say the hardest one for me to write was ‘Scavenger Hunt.’ I knew what I /wanted/ to have happen, but I had to get all the characters into place for it /to/ happen. ‘Broken Paladins’ basically wrote itself, but dang, ‘Scavenger Hunt’ took me a bit because I wanted to make sure I did the set up right.

10) Which fic has been the easiest to write?

Even though it took me the longest, it was definitely ‘Family is More Than Blood’. That fic went through so many edits and rephrasings, but I was really proud of how it turned out.

11) Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

Sort of both, I guess. I’ve always loved books and stories, but writing as much as I did as quickly as I did really came as a surprise. :-) Maybe I’ll finally finish an original story and get it published or something.

12) Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

Oh, geez, I honestly can’t pick just one episode for VLD. They’re all so integral. But if I had to pick just one...maybe...the Blade of Marmora, or Eye of the Storm. The pacing to those and the beautiful animation are just jaw-droopingly inspiring and creative.

13) What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Write what you love, and be proud of your accomplishments. Also, don’t be afraid to grow, even if that means you spend hours on something and then you have to change it. That work you did was not wasted.

14) What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

It has to be perfect, or it’s not worthwhile. *rolls eyes and lights that piece of horrible advice on fire* Yeah, that’s not how it works, guys.

15) If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Oh, man, I’d have to say ‘Family is More than Blood/Echoes from the Past’. The two go hand-in-hand, and I keep re-reading those most of all if I just want to remind myself of how my writing style has developed over time. :-)

16) If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Well, I mean, I like romance, but I really enjoy gen or family/friendship fics...but if we’re talking romantic pairings...I like Shiro/Allura enough where I could make it work. :-)

17) Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

With very few exceptions, I have to get the story down in order, or risk never finishing it. Sometimes I’ll just creatively write moments or angsts down, but if I’m really settling down to the task, I have to open up another new document and work on it sequentially. I’ll reference or bring in what I’ve already written, but I have to work on the story itself from start to finish.

18) Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

I have a notebook where ideas or lines get jotted down, and I’ll reference it pretty heavily if I’m brainstorming. I also reference the VLD character sheets online if I’m double-checking physical descriptions or history or stuff like that, just to keep it as linear as possible.

19) Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

My muse likes to just wander around my mindscape, and she’s a very strange person who likes coffee and doughnuts and is basically an anime character. She’s usually going on about how some song or show or movie or book has the /perfect/ quote for the situation at hand, and I really have to work on making sure she doesn’t freak out the neighbors when I go to get the mail. :-)

20) Describe your perfect writing conditions.

A rainy day, a full mug of coffee and a bar of chocolate at my side, and my writing playlist cued up and ready to go (so a good Internet connection as well). I rely heavily on music like ‘Sunder’ from Most Epic Music Ever on youtube and other things like that to get into and stay focused during my writing moods.

21) How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

It depends on how well the fic or chapter flowed during the writing process. Usually I’ll write through the entire fic and then re-read it from start to finish at least three times, spending more time on different ‘parts’ and trying to make sure I 1) got the flow of the words right, without repeating anything 2) didn’t make any huge grammar mistakes and 3) make sure the picture in my head plays out in the words. Okay, actually, I take it back. I probably re-read the fic at least 9 times before I post it.

22) Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style.

EEEeehhhh, ouch, my pride, lol. :) Well, let’s see...uh....oh, well, sure, why not. Here’s a redone version of first segment of the first story, ‘Lost Paladins’. (Yes, yes, I know, it wasn’t a very imaginative series name, but hey. Cut me a break. I had no idea I’d break the Deathly Hallows word count at the time, and I literally could not think of anything else to call it.)

The Paladins were lost. The sight of the Lions, so small and fragile against the dark void of the corrupted wormhole, was burned into Allura’s mind, along with the screams of the Paladins as they tried, without success, to keep from being flung away, out of their bays and into the unforgiving cold of space.

It was her fault. They’d come to save her.

Fighting back a sudden overwhelming urge to cry, Allura tried to regain some small measure of self-control as she slammed a sequence of numbers into the castle's command board. This was no time for tears. She had to regain control of the Castle of Lions before they fell into a star.

The corrupted wormhole flashed out of existence above them as her frantic attempts to regain control of the starship succeeded, leaving the castle and the two lone souls on it floating in the deep, cold silence of space. Distant stars gleamed above and below them.

23) If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

This one’s actually pretty hard to answer. I might revise the first fic (Lost Paladins), but that’s mostly because my style’s changed. I’m still happy with it as a story, but I definitely would make some different choices now than I did then. Still, I don’t see a full re-write happening anytime soon. :-)

24) Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Nope. :-)

25) and 26) What do you look for in a beta? Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I actually do not use a beta, and I am not a beta myself. I actually didn’t know what they were when I first started - um - actually - this may sound a bit stupid, but what exactly is a beta? :-) :-) Someone who reads over your stuff and gives you feedback before you publish it, right?

27) How do you feel about collaborations?

They sound pretty cool! But since I don't even know what a beta actually is yet (please don’t hate me, I’m honestly just brand new to all this stuff) I’m not entirely certain how they work. :-)

28) Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Maychorian, Bosstoaster, and VelkynKarma. They have a fantastic grasp of characters, and I could go on for days about how incredible the moments they write are to read.

29) If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Hm. I honestly don’t know. I can’t really think of any I would have ideas for. :-)

30) Do you accept prompts?

At this time, not really - it’s more due to my personal writing style than anything else. I always love to hear back from readers, though. Sometimes I can get ideas from what they enjoyed. :-)

31) Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I try to stick to canon whenever possible, except for when I just really want to have fun or think that something non-canon could make a situation more dramatic or has the possibility to add more tension to the situation. I mean, honestly, back in S1 I liked the Galra Keith idea because of what the team could accomplish with that being a sort of focus for events...hence the Lost Paladins series. :-)

32) How do you feel about smut?

I don’t really read it. It’s just not my thing.

33). How do you feel about crack?

Um...I feel about it the same way as smut...? I think? I do love humorous mis-adventures, but I’m not really sure if that’s the same thing as crack.

34) What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

Um...I’m not actually sure what the question is asking...sorry. N/A

35) Would you ever kill off a canon character?

If it’s Haggar, YES. But seriously, no. Well...maybe, if it was Haggar. No one else, though. I just couldn’t.

36) Which is your favorite site to post fic?

Definitely Archive Of Our Own. I got started on fanfiction.net but it’s insanely difficult to keep a series in order on that site.

37) Talk about your current wips.

Oh, you mean works in progress! I think. :-)

Nothing is really in ‘progress’ right now, I just have some ideas on the back burner. I’m a bit emotionally exhausted from S2, but I am dabbling in some future moments or bonus scenes that should be fun. :-)

38) Talk about a review that made your day.

PrincessMnMz. Just, really, all of her reviews.

4_angsty_zukos also saying that Haggar needed to be punched in the mouth made me spit-take my coffee out of satisfaction, too. :D

Maychorian actually reading and commenting made me cry with happiness, because her Boom Crash series was just...aaaahhhh, she’s got so much good stuff. Knowing /that author/ read some of /my stuff/ was like getting a Vulcan sign from Spock. :-) Totally made my year.

And really, anyone who’s ever commented. It’s just so incredible to know people like what I write and that they wanted to tell me how they felt. :-)

39) Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

I really haven’t gotten any rude reviews yet...but if I do, I’ll probably just reply as politely as I can and then just ignore them. I love replying to reviewers, though. :-)

40) Write an alternative ending to...Many Happy Returns.

Okay, sure, why not. :-)

Coran activated his personal comms as he hurried towards the castle’s main flight deck.

“Okay,” he heard Shiro say over the comms as they all headed towards their Lion’s bays. “Sound off once you’re ready to fly -”

“Red Leader, standing by.”

“Gold Leader, standing by.”

“Blue Leader, standing by.”

Pidge’s voice cut in then, not really annoyed, but slightly frustrated all the same at her code name.

“Argh - I mean - I liked Green Leader - but - OH! OH! Guys - I can be Rogue One!”

There was a brief pause, but Shiro sounded genuinely amused and impressed when he answered.

“You know what - that actually works. Let’s do that.”

Now that he was on the bridge with Allura, Coran could see the visual screens with the Paladins, and he saw the Green Paladin grin as she got into her pilot’s chair.

“Rogue One, standing by!” she said, beaming, and Coran saw Shiro laugh to himself as he sounded off.

“General Iroh, standing by.”

The code names over the comms as they went into battle had been the team’s idea - but Coran thought that it was entirely possible that they had just really, really wanted to get in a few more Star Wars references. Well, that and that other show.

Over the comms, he could still hear the Paladins whooping with excitement as their Lions left their bays.

“YEAH!”

“WHOOO!”

“LET’S GO!”

“IIIIIIII AAAAAAAMMMMMMM GGGGGGGGRRRRRROOOOOOOOTTTTT!!!!!!

“Okay, team - FORM VOLTRON!”

As the Defender of the Universe took shape, Coran smiled and looked back over towards Allura. The Princess was scanning the nearby star systems for any incoming Galra ships, and Rayzor was at the navigation console, making sure their flight pattern could adjust for any unexpected obstacles.

It wasn’t going to be easy, freeing prisoners and fighting the Galra Empire.

But Coran thought they were off to a very good -

Then Lance blurted out,

“Wait - Katie - YOUR FAMILY’S ON THE SHIP?!”

Coran heard the sheer joy in Pidge’s voice as she answered.

“Oh, yeah, didn’t I say?”

There was an explosion of noise over the comms.

“NOYOUDIDN’T-”

“HOLYSHITTHAT’SAMAZING-”

“THE SECOND WE GET TO THE PLANET WE GOTTA SAY HI-”

“...your...f-family...?”

Coran realized that last one had been Shiro. He sounded as if he was having a hard time articulating the words.

Pidge’s voice sounded over the comms, and she sounded truly abashed, and almost concerned.

“Oh, God - yeah - Shiro - yeah - both of them - they’re fine - they can’t wait to see you -”

“...uh...”

Coran heard the way Pidge continued to talk, as if she were completely intent on making sure Shiro knew exactly how sorry she was for not saying something earlier. It hadn’t been her fault, of course, but still, it was clear she wanted Shiro to know everything was all just fine.

“Matt made a joke - something about Zack Fair - and Dad still wants to know more about Voltron - but oh, yeah, Shiro, they’re fine - they can’t wait to see you - ”

Coran looked over at Rayzor, who looked confused.

“Is...that...some sort of code?” he asked, and Coran shrugged.

“I’m not sure,” he confessed. “Sometimes I don’t have a clue what these humans are saying.”

There was a snort of half-stifled laughter from over the comms, and Coran looked up to see Hunk bring up his comms screen.

“I got one word for you, Coran,” he said. “Wiblum. What the heck is that, anyway?”

Coran twirled his mustache. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

He heard Keith mutter something about crazy words and mustaches, but Coran smiled to himself all the same.

Paladins.

And that’s all the questions!! Whew! :-) Well, I hope you enjoyed my little Q&A there. :-)

#writing #questions #fun

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the-record-columns · 6 years

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Jan. 3, 2018: Columns

My New Year's Resolution is to try to actually finish someth

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

Every year many folks make resolutions, most of which involve their health or getting along with others, and, if the truth be known, they know there is no way they will keep them up before they ever make them.

Sad, but true. And, yes, I have been guilty of the same thing year after year. So this year, let's lay out a few resolutions that can be kept, even by someone as weak-willed as me.

*Do more of what you like to do, to balance the things you have to do.

*Listen more.

*Walk more.

*Stop eating processed and prepackaged foods.

*If you snack, make it fruits and nuts.

*Don't snack at night. See above.

*Play with your dog (or other pet) every day--without fail.

*Take the stairs, not the elevator.

*Buy local whenever possible.

*Be complimentary of others.

*Recycle.

*Don't gossip.

*Eat a good breakfast.

*Always carry some cash.

*Be loyal.

*Make a stranger feel at home.

*Be on time.

*Do not litter.

*Preserve history.

*Fall asleep reading, not watching television.

*Speaking of sleep, most of us need seven hours.

*Handwrite a note to someone.

*Use a pretty stamp. See above.

*Even better, collect stamps as a hobby. See above.

*Keep things simple whenever possible.

*Don't take your cell phone into meetings.

*Be thankful for every day.

*Make eye contact when speaking to someone.

*Volunteer.

*Stay in touch with those you love.

*And, with those you like.

*Recycle. I know I said that already, but once more for my daughter, Jordan.

*Become better organized.

*Be thankful for the things that go your way.

*Take nothing and no one for granted.

*Make visitors welcome, they will remember.

And finally, a few health tips:

*Wash your hands often.

*Keep your fingers out of your mouth.

*Do not, repeat, DO NOT, blow your nose.

These are just a few, very doable resolutions for you to ponder. And, I also want to take this opportunity to proudly promise everyone I love, or care about, or just know; that I resolve to remain sober for another year.

All the best to everyone for 2018!

I hope you fail…

By LAURA WELBORN

The Sunday after Christmas (or many of the the big holidays) are typically low attended in church services.

After all the excitement of a holiday it has always seemed a low time in the week that follows. If we think of Christmas as the birth of the son of God then how does this relate to what we do after the celebration? What does God dream for us to do? The same thing he sent his son to do? What are we willing to do to make the world less harsh, less unkind?

Sometimes our job is to just show up after the excitement of a holiday with a spirit of generosity and willingness towards kindness to all. It is easier for me to do this when things are going well, harder when I am struggling. But when I think back on the last year, I reflect on the words of Chief Justice John Roberts at his son's ninth-grade commencement address:

He told his audience that most commencement addresses typically wish you good luck and extend good wishes. Instead he said: "I hope you will suffer betrayal, because that will teach you the importance of loyalty.

"Sorry to say, but I hope you will be lonely from time to time so that you don't take friends for granted.

"I wish you bad luck, again from time to time so that you will be conscious of the role of chance in life, and understand that your success is not completely deserved and that the failure of others is not completely deserved either.

"And when you lose, as you will from time to time, I hope every now and then your opponent will gloat over your failure. It is a way for you to understand the importance of sportsmanship.

"I hope you will be ignored so that you know the importance of listening to others, and I hope you will have just enough pain to learn compassion.

"Whether I wish these things or not, they're going to happen. And whether you benefit from them or not will depend upon your ability to see the message in your misfortunes."

These are the realities that we all will face in the course of a full life and how to anticipate them and learn from them becomes the real challenge. But along the way it becomes important to acknowledge the kindness we receive from others. Acknowledging the role others play in our lives helps us feel grateful and helps others feel special which are all keys to the road of kindness and compassion. Write it down and then send it- so others reap the benefit of the effect their kind act had.

When I review 2017 I am now looking at my trials and tribulations in a whole new light. Where did I grow and who was there to pick me up? Did I keep showing up with grace and kindness? So bring it on 2018 and while I hope for a year filled with successes I will look at the messages and opportunity for growth in the things that do not go my way. Anticipation of things not going as I would like just gives me the ability to intentionally find the message.

Happy New Year, may you have just enough trials to keep you humble and kind.

“ The Road Not Taken” ; check your bags at the door

By HEATHER DEAN

Reporter/Photojournalist

You say it's time to write about my new years resolutions??? So, yeah, about that...

I have an addiction to coffee mugs (and the coffee that goes in them) and books. Real books. Books made of paper and glue.

Everywhere I go in my travels I take a book, and plan to come back with at least one new one. Among my favorite writers are those in the transcendentalist movement- Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, Margaret Fuller, "Uncle Walt" Whitman, Robert Frost, William Wordsworth- as well as Lord Alfred Byron, and Oscar Wilde to name a few.

One major tenet of transcendentalism is that man shall go against the main-stream choice, if the other is more pleasing to him. The writers reflect ideals, intuition, and our ability to connect with untainted nature.

One of my favorite coffee mugs is one that not only is extra large sized and holds three regular cups of coffee, but that has an excerpt from "The Road Not Taken", by Robert Frost. "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference."

His sporadic venture into the wilderness, and the societal realization that he undergoes while there, the whole "choose your own path" , was something that spoke to me, even as a youngling.

I've always wondered what I would be when I grew up (still working on that), what kind of person I would become in later life, what life experiences would be the fleeting images I would see on my death bed (As an aside, I do not plan on having any regrets while lying there, even though this past year has been the most trying and heartbreaking yet.) and how people would remember me.

So, yeah, about that... It's that time of year again: Everyone that follows the Roman calendar has made New Years resolutions, promises to themselves to do better, be better, yadda yadda yadda. Here's the thing- "To thine own self be true" doesn't mean anything if you don't have the salt to take an honest look, and stand your ground against yourself.

The only resolution I have ever cared to make, and keep, is "always take the road less traveled." It gives me pause to reflect and therefore, perspective in the human condition. "And that, has made all the difference."

So go ahead. Take a step in the direction of the transcendentalists. When people want to walk along side you- and many will- let them, regardless of whether they stay on your path or not. Just make them carry their own baggage, no matter how fond you are of them. Because you , my darling human, are not responsible for anyone else's resolutions, regrets, or life lessons.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

By EARL COX

Special to The Record

Have you ever stopped to consider that tiny Israel is one of the most contested pieces of real estate in the world and that more news happens in Israel than just about any place else in the world? The news in Israel changes almost minute by minute. The morning news report is obsolete by lunchtime. For this reason, recapping what has taken place in Israel over the course of this past year would be too difficult for a short article but here are a few of the highlights.

This past year for Israel has been a raucous one. Israel's Prime Minister Netanyahu has had to skillfully wend his way politically through innuendoes and accusations against his wife, Sara, for the misuse of public funds and personally for corruption in two cases; allegedly for accepting significant gifts from two businessmen and the second involving a deal with a newspaper in exchange for favorable coverage. Even so, Israelis are not quite ready to count Mr. Netanyahu out. He is currently serving the longest consecutive term of any Israeli prime minister and he is generally trusted by the Israeli public to keep them safe in a region surrounded by hostile neighbors. Will he be able to weather the storm of accusations? Only time will tell but he is clearly a survivor.

Internal politics aside, Israel is making do with the best a democratic government can offer. It upholds basic fairness for all citizens alike regardless of religion, race or creed. Like any democratic country the government makes hard decisions and at other times, concessions, to various groups and agencies to improve evenhandedness in policy. It may come as a surprise to many that Arab Muslims who are Israeli citizens have the same rights and privileges as Jewish Israeli citizens yet the world points its finger at Israel and calls it an apartheid state. This is clearly fake news.

There are other countries which have the same issues of national sovereignty as Israel but fortunately for them they do not have double standards imposed on them as does Israel by the European Union, the United Nations, radical Muslims and academics all who seem ignorant to the facts. Israel's connection to the land dates back more than 3000 years and new supportive archeological evidence is uncovered almost daily. Any Palestinian claim to Jerusalem which pre-dates the Jews is simply more fake news.

A towering problem for Israel this year was the supposed disruption of the status quo on the Temple Mount. The lies and fabrications of Muslim radicals are not worthy of comment because of the clear facts seen on videos and in photographs. United States Congressmen, pastors and others have personally observed the intimidation and false accusations of radical Muslims. After all, if what the Muslims contend is true then why do they not want security cameras in place to film any alleged disruption of the status quo?

Palestinian radicalism has led to stabbings and the utilization of vehicles to plow down many innocent people in Israel causing widespread killings and injuries; that these criminals are as young as eleven years old speaks to the brainwashing of once innocent Palestinian children by government led officials and even their own parents who, themselves, are encouraged to be anything but peacemakers. How is Israel to handle such scandalous, vicious attacks which can occur anywhere and at any time? Prevention involves profiling and the Israelis have honed this skill making it almost a science. With the same horrors now happening in other countries, the world could learn much from Israel in how to keep people safe.

At a time in history not seen since Israel's rebirth in 1948, Jews from around the world are moving to Israel in record numbers. This should come as no surprise as anti-Semitism is again on the rise. Even as close to home as Charlotte, North Carolina a Jewish family was terrorized when they awoke to find a swastika painted on their garage door the morning after they put up Hanukkah decorations. In the first six months of 2017 there were 15 reported anti-Semitic incidences in North Carolina alone.

It is estimated that by 2026 more than 160,000 French Jews will have made Aliyah to Israel. I single out France because they recently created a department of government whose sole responsibility is to investigate French Jews. The function of this department is to track French Jewish money in order to know where it is invested and who owns land in Israel. Hard to believe that in this day and age a government could actually set up an entire department tasked with targeting a specific group based on religious beliefs.

Israel, along with countries which previously had nothing to do with the Jewish state, are broaching alliances for their common benefit against radical Islamists. These are noteworthy as Israel moves into the unpredictable future.

On another note, the Jewish-Christian relationship is better than it has ever been and is continuing to grow stronger. Both Jews and Christians are recognizing that our commonalities are greater than our differences.

While there is still more to be done, Israel is always on the cutting edge which is why it has earned the nickname as "the startup nation." This tiny country has been blessed with very smart people who have developed advanced systems of detection and deterrence of terrorists attempting to cross the border and rockets launched into Israel are successfully destroyed while still in the air. Israel has made significant advancements in the fields of science, medicine, cyber technology and agriculture to name only a few. And while we all benefit from Israel's advancements, developments and achievements, the world fails to give Israel the credit she rightly deserves.

Finally, the President of the United States has proclaimed that Jerusalem is the capital of Israel. Even though he stopped short of saying ALL of Jerusalem is the capital of the Jewish people, he at least made a step in the right direction and eight other countries are now following suit. After all, Jerusalem was claimed as Israel's capital by King David more than 3000 years ago.

As the world moves in to a new year, it would do us well to remember that if G-d's Word is true (which it is for certain) then it would be best for all foreign governments to beware not to hurt, touch or attempt to divide the "apple of God's eye" or the land deeded to Israel by God Himself.

A New Year and a Best Friend

By CARL WHITE

Life in the Carolinas

Frederick the Great, King of Prussia from 1740-1786 reportedly said "The more I see of men, the better I like my dog" he also referred to one of his Italian greyhounds as his best friend. I do not propose to understand all the responsibility and feelings of a monarch; however, I do care greatly for my canine companions, and I have it on competent authority that I am a member of a rather large group.

In my numerous travels in the Carolinas, I have met many people with four-legged family members. I have gotten to know many of them and when I revisit or call it is common for me to ask of about their wellbeing.

Larry and Ginny in Murrells Inlet share their home with two Jack Russell Terrier's Winston Churchill and Margaret "Maggie" Thatcher. Sometimes more are in residence. During my visits, I have witnessed the value and love shared with their four-legged housemates that can best be described as a family.

Ken and Laura share their home with Powder, a great white long-legged Boxer-Pit mix who is as much family as any human member. Ken says Powder wouldn't bite a biscuit if it were not buttered just right. Ken has a way with words and Powder has a way of touching the hearts of those who meet him.

Wayne and Pam have an extended family of canines, Bernice a Chihuahua and her brother Bilbo; then there is Colt a Chihuahua/Jack Russel mix, who prefers being the alpha in all situations. They often travel with Wayne and Pam on their many adventures. Pam says they are family and when you travel it's nice to have your family with you.

I've written about our four-legged pals before, and I'm likely to do it again. Spot, a terrier blend is the one which provides great comfort to me; I believe he helps bring a bit of calm when most needed. Harvard suggests there are many benefits to canine companionship including the idea that "Just petting a dog can reduce blood pressure and heart rate (while having a positive effect on the dog as well)" I believe this idea to be true as I have benefited from this therapy many times.

The Chinese calendar has a place for the Dog; and for those born in 2018 they will be an Earth Dog. I'll need to get folk artist Charlie Frye to paint an Earth Dog in honor of our New Year and for the new lives that will surely grow to productive members of our Carolinas. Charlie painted a Rooster for 2017 as it was the year of the Rooster. I find the Chinese calendars interesting because China is one of our worlds ancient societies. The use of animals seems to honor them in some way, and I think that's a nice thing.

My travels have provided me with opportunities to see and experience many things. I get along with just about everyone, and most animals seem to like me. I think that ability came from my father who loved animals; he was the happiest when a good variety of animals were around.

As it turns out the Chinese say, I was born a Wood Dragon and as the years pass a Carolina dog seems to lessen the pain of life’s splinters.

Here's to the New Year

Carl White is the executive producer and host of the award-winning syndicated TV show Carl White's Life In the Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its eighth year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte viewing market on WJZY Fox 46 Saturday's at 12:00 noon. For more on the show, visit www.lifeinthecarolinas.com, You can email Carl White at Carl@lifeinthecaro e

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