#I LOVE PIERS AND I WILL PROJECT MY INTERESTS ONTO HIM | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imnotwolverine · 4 years ago

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LOVE IS LIKE - Books and Babes

PART 1 Books and Babes | PART 2 >

Summary: As he travels home to London with his assistant Leah, Henry recalls some moments from his past, including breakups, ladies and that one book that keeps getting into trouble.

Word count: 2.566

The song: Sweet - Love Is Like Oxygen

Disclaimer: mentions of one-night-stands, breakups, bullying, hopeless love and weed smoking. Other than that it’s pretty much just comedic fluff

LOVE IS LIKE... books and babes

‘Love is like oxy-gen,

You get too much,

you get too high..’

Henry mimed along with the music in his earpods, shuffling forward as the line of businessmen moved to the gate that would transport him to the plane taking him back to London Heathrow.

‘Not enough and you're gonna die--’

A short jab in his ribs made him look down at the glowing pink cheeks of his PA. She’d had to make a run for it.

‘Love gets you high-.’

With a quick fumble Henry killed the music, as he was greeted by one heavily panting Leah who pushed his lost book back in his large hands.

‘Found it.’ She smiled with another few long puffs, sweet sweat beading down her brow.

‘Leahhh.’ Henry sighed and shook his head with a laugh. ‘You know you didn’t have to do THAT.’

She chuckled. ‘And have you bother me all flight? Ohhh no, none of that.’

‘Like I’m such a pain.’ Henry winked, shuffling forward now the line before him was slowly funnelling down the long white tunnel into the plane.

‘Sometimes..’ Leah gave him a playfully chastising look before starting to quickly dig down her bag to find her ticket and passport.

‘Piers?’

Henry wanted to knock on his brother’s bedroom door, but halted, hearing something peculiar arising from the small confinement his oldest brother was hiding out in. Was that a..girl he heard giggling? Putting his ear flat against the rough oak wood, he listened more closely.

‘Do you like that?’ He heard his brother ask. The girl giggled again.

‘Stop it! Hahaha. Piers! Stop it!’

Henry felt his muscles tighten and he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Was that Ellie? The blond girl that lived a street away? And was Piers...hurting her? His older brother truly was strange now he had full on hit puberty. Frowning, Henry looked down the hallway, his ears now picking up the sound of feet climbing up the stairs.

‘Did you call him for dinner yet?’ Marianne puffed out as she dragged a full basket of dirty laundry up the narrow steps, her face not managing to poke out over the large pile. Henry quickly straightened up and swallowed.

‘Eh..’ With a sharp knock he finally rapped on his brother’s door. ‘Piers! Dinner!’

Inside he could hear the panicked kerfuffle of what may have very well been clothing zipped up, but again Henry couldn’t be sure as he looked back at his mother who now lowered the basket in her arms. One conspicuously raised eyebrow from her was all it took to burn his cheeks a bright pink.

‘I wasn’t listening!’ He squeaked, though Marianne knew better.

‘Sure you did sweetie.’ She winked at him then tilted her head in the direction of Piers’ room. ‘Piers honey, don’t forget about what me and dad told you!’

With a swift swing the door was pulled open and one both terribly embarrassed and terribly annoyed Piers appeared in the door opening. ‘FUCK mom! Did you really have to --’

‘Language young man! ..Especially in front of ladies.’ Marianne looked over the shoulder of her lanky teen son to find the shy expression of one equally embarrassed Ellie.

‘Hello Mrs. Cavill...’ She squeaked before noticing the fiercely blushing young boy next to Marianne. ‘..Henry.’

Henry felt his chubby cheeks burn even more. Oh why was he like this with girls?

‘This is not working out...It’s not you, it’s me...’ Her words swam in the back of his head, tumbling around like his brain had turned on the dirty laundry setting of his conscience. Henry felt nauseated, tired and utterly empty as he lay here on the couch of his friend, his hands folded over the phone on his chest. He had thought she was the one. Starry eyed and hair black as night. That smile throwing him off whenever he saw it. She was still the one, right? Why oh why did she not want to work through this? Why did this have to be the end? Why did she have to decide for him how to feel about all this? Why not put in the darn fucking work?!

Looking to his right he heard the soft snoring of the puppy they had adopted only months ago. His body was all disproportionate with his floppy ears and oversized lanky paws. Henry sighed. At least he still had Kal.

‘Welcome Mr. Cavill and thank you for travelling with us.’ The pretty asian lady handed him back his boarding pass with a smile that was near inappropriately close to a flirt. Henry didn’t mind though. Mind a kind smile his large paw retrieved the most used book in his life: his passport, and stepped to the side as they checked Leah’s boarding pass as well. Leah did not receive that same flirtatious look, the asian lady barely offering Leah a glance as her eyes already roved on to the next business man who stepped in line.

Leah raised an eyebrow at him and Henry couldn’t help but offer his dear PA an even wider smile to compensate. ‘What’s the matter with you today?’ She asked, chuckling as her legs moved past him to start their way down the white tunnel of led lights and muffled blue carpet.

‘Absolutely nothing dear Leah.’ Henry smiled. Most women came and went in his life, but at least Leah was here to stay. Like Kal she was one of the few who were true friends to him.

In for it through thick and thin.

‘So what do you think of King Pellenore?’ Young Henry shuffled a little closer to the girl who was sitting on the other edge of the school yard bench. Rosy cheeked and hunched over in his hand-me-down blazer he eyed the sweet red haired girl that seemed to share his fascination with reading. They had worked together on a group project a week ago and he couldn’t help but be interested in her.

Finally she looked up, Anne, her brown eyes skittishly skimming over him before both their ears picked up the sound of a bunch of classmates laughing. Laughing at them. Him. With a small “o” on her mouth the girl quickly grabbed her belongings and rushed inside, leaving Henry alone on the bench, his hands nervously picking at his backpack as the other kids threw him some mean comments.

Fat Cavill. Nerd. Sissy. Fool!

Was he really such a failure with girls?

‘Kal! OH NO...KAL! Give that back!....naughtyyyy.’ Bent through his cracking knees Henry tried to reach for the book that his dog had snatched from the coffee table. But the pup was quick. With a cheeky side eye he glanced at Henry before sprinting down to the hallway, nails tapping on the slippery tile floor. He was near full grown now, but had antics in abundance - and sharp teeth to grab anything and everything he could drag around. Shoes, socks and his new favourite: books.

Chasing after the Akita, Henry followed him down to the kitchen; the home thankfully anything but large and with a few large steps he had managed to chase the dog into a corner, hands grabbing him by the collar before he pried the slimy book from his maw. ‘Oh well would you look at that..’ Henry sighed and tried to swipe some of the doggy drool off the leather bound cover. He had started to read King Arthur again, but his dog was clearly just as little a fan as his old classmates had been. Though of course the dog was not really being mean: he just thought it was time to go out, play, run, chase squirrels!

‘You are one cheeky bugger, you know that?’ Henry looked down at the Akita who sat down, looking up at him with big puppy eyes. It was hard to stay mad at him for long.

‘You sure you’re okay with this?’ Charlie settled down in the comfy hotel deck chair, the Californian sun burning down on their heads.

‘Why of course! I mean, I’ll still tease you like any good older brother. But you LOVE her you big Sissywat. Of course you’re going to marry her.’

‘Haa…’ Charlie sighed and looked at the pool where some women were lounging on sunbeds. ‘..well I guess here’s to the last days as a truly single man?’

Henry raised an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses. ‘I really don’t get how people think you’re still single before the ring’s on the finger.’ He sniffled as Charlie shrugged.

‘It’s just a saying, Hen.’

‘Well single or not, you better take good care of her, will you?’

‘Of course! Each and every day, with every make-up stain on my blouse and every cold foot giving me first degree freeze burns beneath the bed sheets.’ Charlie clinked his beer with Henry’s.

‘For better or worse!’ The brothers laughed.

‘Don’t want to stay for breakfast?’ Henry sat up to see his late-night ladylove squeeze herself back into her skinny jeans. Her round butt cheeks didn’t seem to cooperate and he had to resist from pulling her back into the bed so he could convince her to stay.

‘No, thanks.’ She inhaled deeply so she could zip up the tight jean fabric.

‘Will I see you again?’ Henry internally scolded himself for sounding so insecure.

The woman shot him a confused look. ‘I don’t think I’ll be in London any day soon. It was fun though. Hey,’ She crawled up onto the bed and Henry rolled onto his back in hope she’d at least give him a kiss, her body folding over him. ‘ah there it is.’ With a swift hand movement she retrieved her bra from behind his pillow. ‘Gotta go, my cab is here.’ She pushed herself back off the bed and grabbed her bag. With one last glance and smile she was out the door. ‘Bye Superman!’

Henry felt his heart sink. Oh Henry you fool!

‘OH CRAP!’ The woman in the business class chair next to Henry shot up from her seat, hands pulling a book away from what appeared to be a fallen over drink. ‘Shitshitshit.’ She quickly bit her lip and anxiously started to look around for something to wipe down the mess. Henry killed the music in his ear.

‘Love is like.. --’

‘Oh dammit.’ She scrunched up her nose as she realised how much of the juice had fallen over her book; it was just about ruined, pages soaking up the berry purple colour.

‘Here.!’ Henry sat up and quickly grabbed some tissues from his travel bag; having a slightly messy dog taught you to always be prepared.

‘Thanks.’ The woman breathed, some staff now also joining in to help clean the mess and put the book on a tray before it’d contaminate anything else. It took a good minute before it was all cleaned and gone, the brown haired banana-sock-wearing business woman settling down in her chair with a sigh.

‘You alright?’ Henry asked. It was the first words they shared after a whole hour of flight, her attention first having been preoccupied with her laptop or..reading, which now seemed out of the question.

‘Yea..yea..’ She shook her head and looked at Henry. Mediterranean turquoise eyes hidden behind thick glasses, her low brown-haired ponytail slightly disheveled after being smushed into the seat.

‘Was it a good book?’

‘Yea..just some..old timer. Good ol’ ..King Arthur.’ She hushed the last words as if she felt awkward about admitting she was reading a children’s book.

Henry blinked for a moment as he looked at her, his brain short circuiting before he turned to rummage through his bags again.

‘Oh am I..Is there something on my face?’ She grabbed for her glasses and took them off to look at them with squinting eyes.

‘No no, please. Eh..’ Henry raised the chewed and mauled, but ever loved copy he had bought himself all those years ago. ‘..just..coincidence I guess.’ He reached out his rendition of King Arthur and His Knights to her.

‘Well have you there. Leather bound too!’

‘And absolutely destroyed, also. I think these books just ..beg..to be harmed haha.’

‘You have a dog? Or..’ She pushed her glasses back on her nose and let her finger trace over the large indents.. ‘..bear..perhaps?’

Henry laughed. ‘No no. Just a dog. A large one. But, deep inside still very much a sweet pup.’

‘Apologies.’ A flight attendant halted as the glassed woman turned to look up. ‘We are seeing to the drying of your book. Though I’m afraid we do not have anything to get the stain out.. -’

‘Oh, that’s quite alright. Please.’

‘Could we perhaps offer you a new refreshment?’

‘Some wine would be great. WHITE wine..’ The woman grinned. ‘..less chance of stains.’

The flight attendant nodded, before Henry quickly interjected. ‘I’ll have one as well.’

‘Chardonnay, Sauvignon?’

The woman turned to Henry and with a dapper smile he picked their choosing.

‘You just gotta be yourself man.’ Henry’s skinny, beanie-hatted friend spoke, inhaling the saturating smoke of his Red Dragon joint. The whole room was some kind of blue, bean bags scattered around the Californian apartment, people lounging and chilling in their daze.

Henry inhaled deeply and felt the wooze of a broken heart and drugs fight an odd battle inside his heavy chest. He felt both extremely relaxed and extremely wrong for being here; shouldn’t he be trying his best to get her back?

‘What if I never find anyone to be with me?’ The chubby boy inside him spoke, unsure blue eyes peering out at the ceiling that seemed to move and dance before him. The whole world had slowed down, but his mind tried its best to keep going.

‘Hey,’ His friend struggled up from his beanbag, making Henry fall to his side. ‘you’re a good guy mate. You hear me? You’re a GOOD guy. And if you’d be gay I’d totally..totally do you.’ His friend burst into a fit of giggles before he cleared his throat and shook his head to clear his mind. ‘No, but really. Don’t change for the girl, ever. Yea? You’re such a good guy.’

Henry wondered if this is what Kal felt like.

Good boy! Good boy!

‘Where’s your book?’ Leah had to speed up to keep up with the light long steps of Henry as they moved through the long airport hall for their connecting flight. Henry smiled and looked over his shoulder.

‘Who said it again? If you love something, let it go?’

Leah frowned and with a few more fast steps got in line with him. ‘You are a handful! You know that Cavill? I ran my lungs out to--’

‘Leah. It’s fine. I gave it to someone who I’m sure will love it even more than I could ever.’

Leah puffed and, from the way her cheeks already burned, Henry decided to slow his pace.

‘And if she doesn’t appreciate it, I can always buy a new one.’

‘She? Did I miss something?’ Leah hoisted up the bag on her shoulder and shook her head. ‘You and your romantic antics.’

‘Incorrigible Cavill.’ Henry mimicked her voice, before smiling down at her. Leah rolled her eyes.

‘You said it first!’

‘One very high man once told me I just have to be myself. So that’s what I’ll do. And who knows..’ he hinted at a Valentine’s day poster they passed by. ‘..Love is like oxygen!’

Go to PART 2 >

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#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #valentine #love is like #love is in the air #tinge of angst and sadness #the sweet #kal #aunt leah

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dirty-holy-things · 4 years ago

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The Space Between (your heart & mine)

Chapter 18 has been posted to Ao3, and below to Tumblr.

Catch up on chapters 1-17 on Ao3.

Notes: This fic is 18+ and explicit. This chapter includes canon-typical violence and description of injuries. This is a very heavy and emotional chapter that explores feelings of grief, and while the ending of this chapter is positive (trying to avoid spoilers), please exercise caution if this is a sensitive subject. I will say though, that for all of the pain I may put y'all and these characters through, we will have a happy ending.

Words: 5.9k update, 86.8 total.

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Din nodded wordlessly at the man before moving to exit the shop; his business here was completed, and now it was time to go home. To go back to you, to hold and kiss you, and to try and keep this exciting new secret to himself. As his footsteps landed on the volcanic gravel of the city street, his attention was abruptly drawn to a loud crack and crumbling sound that echoed off of the buildings around him. The intrusive and unexpected sound snapped him right into high alert, needing to know the source of the sound — and needing to know where you were, if you were safe.

His feet couldn’t seem to move fast enough as he rushed through the streets, sidestepping merchant carts, droids, and young children that played without concern for the unexpected noise. His mind raced with ideas of all of the horrible things that could’ve happened to you — what if you got stuck in the middle of a shootout? What if something collapsed and you were crushed by it? What if someone had attacked you? He tried to recall if you had told him where you were going, before you had exited the cantina earlier; but despite wracking his brain, he couldn’t remember anything that offered any consolation or comfort. He wished that his feet would move as quickly as his mind was; his breathing grew more labored as he drew closer and closer to where he believed the sound to have come from.

“He looks through the wound of my life like it’s light. So I let him.” — Omotara James, Pier 52

Din’s fingers drummed ceaselessly on the sticky tabletop in the cantina, just wanting this exchange of pleasantries with Karga to be over so he could return home to you. What should have been a fifteen minute meeting turned into an hours-long event; at this point, having worked for the guild for countless years, Din knew he should expect this, but it still didn’t stop him from wishing for something better. These meetings were admittedly much more enjoyable when you accompanied him, as you were able to draw much of Karga’s attention and conversation, allowing Din to withdraw from the exchange; at least, until Karga made a comment out of turn, or a tasteless joke and Din had to remind him of the concept of boundaries. These meetings were a necessary evil, and yet you had somehow made even the more frustrating and mundane parts of his life into something exciting and enjoyable. You had brightened every aspect of his existence through your presence alone; your radiance was never lost on him.

Din was finally able to wrap things up with Karga, having successfully negotiated the next round of bounties after the man had been loosened up by a few drinks. Din was excited to share the upcoming destinations with you — he loved seeing the way that you lit up when you were exploring, learning, flourishing. He had feared before that he was holding you back, by keeping you to himself, but you were incredibly strong and fiercely independent, and you pursued your own interests and ideas with a determination that continually impressed him.

Din excused himself from Karga’s presence, having one more matter to attend to before returning to the ship to wait for you to rejoin him. He exited the cantina with a sigh of relief, happy to be freed of the space that was somehow both empty and all too full at the same time. The ground he walked on here was familiar, but his steps felt lighter now than they ever had before. It felt as though something had lifted the weight that resided on his shoulders, a weight that he hadn’t known existed until he met you.

Din had loved seeing the way that you had grown throughout your shared travels; you were like a sponge, soaking up everything the universe had to offer you. He loved seeing the way you lit up when you talked to him about the historical texts you had picked up, loved seeing you get excited by all of this new and undiscovered information. He was also somewhat secretly relieved that you were no longer thrusting yourself into unsafe situations simply in the name of profit; and once you had seen his somewhat disorganized but impressive financial records, you had come to the understanding that the bounty profit resulting from your assistance was... not entirely necessary. Being a man of few interests and slim personal expenses, he had been taking in almost purely profit from every job he had for nearly twenty years. He regularly supported the covert, ensuring that the foundlings could be cared for, but the money he had retained for himself had continued to grow over the years with very little to deplete it. He had never felt the need to spend exorbitant amounts of money on himself before; he hadn’t needed anything other than the Razor Crest and his beskar.

And now, all he truly needed was you and the kid. The ship, as significant as it was, was simply a vessel for the memories the three of you created there. It certainly held value and was special in its own right, but at the end of the day it was a mechanized hunk of metal and fuel. The memories created there would not continue to exist exclusively within the walls of the cabin — they would live on within the three of you. The ship wasn’t home — you and the kid were home, whether you were on Nevarro or Naboo. Steel was only ever steel; spirit was not as confined.

And that was precisely why he was meeting with a merchant to discuss the procurement of a new ship. Something nicer, newer, with better accommodations and more comforts than the Razor Crest could ever hope to offer. Din felt as though he couldn’t give you much in this lifetime, aside from love; he couldn’t turn back time to erase your past, couldn’t give you the tools needed to connect with the Force, couldn’t truly even give you the sight of his face. But he could do this; he could give you this.

He felt confident walking into the office of the local Bureau of Ships and Services liaison. Din knew that coordinating a purchase and acquisition of this magnitude would likely be more business and commission than this man had ever received in his lifetime; and while he knew that there would be a delay as he was not going through the primary office on Coruscant, he was quite relieved to be operating without their greedy and slick influences.

He made his needs clear to the nervous man that met with him; the small, thin man avoided eye contact with the narrow visor of Din’s helmet, and the thermal sensor indicated to Din that the man was sweating profusely throughout their entire interaction. Reviewing necessary requirements and components of this future ship, Din stated that he certainly needed something functional for work as a bounty hunter — hyperdrive, room for an armory and carbonite cargo — but he also wanted something with a galley, private quarters, something that would be nice for you. The man’s hands shook as he searched to find something that would meet these specifications, before eventually suggesting a S-161 yacht that would offer Din “both domestic and business spaces,” to quote the nervous man.

Din looked at the image of the ship that was projected onto the screen in front of him. The sleek shape and structure of the ship was certainly a departure from the bulkiness of the Razor Crest, but when he saw the interior cabin space, he could clearly picture you and Grogu playing in the lounge area; he could see both of your bodies occupying the larger bed space; he could see all of the memories that were yet to come.

Din paid the full amount for the ship upfront, and the man’s face went a bit green at the sight of so many credits. The man’s voice wavered as he informed Din that it would be about three or four weeks before the ship was available and accessible on Nevarro; and this was perfect as it would allow him time to complete the next round of newly-negotiated jobs, before bringing you back here for a surprise. He tried to picture the look on your face when he revealed the new ship to you; he was excited to see how you would react to the lounge area with a couch, a bed bigger than a data pad, everything shiny and new... and waiting for you and Din to christen all the untouched surfaces.

Before leaving, Din informed the man of one additional and seemingly superficial request. “I would like for something to be installed, that would allow one to... grow flowers. An artificial light of some sort.”

He recalled an off-handed comment that you had made about you can’t grow flowers in space, and how you had shared with him that your mother had taught you about floristry — it seemed to be one of the few positive connections you had to your past, and Din wanted to give you the ability to reconnect with this piece of your history, in a new and healthier way.

“S-sure, I’m sure something can be added to allow for that.” Din could hear the confusion and curiosity in the man’s voice, but luckily he knew well enough to keep his nose out of Din’s personal business. Didn’t need to know why a Mandalorian wanted to grow daisies.

Din came to a halt in front of a crumbling building, the entire west-facing wall having collapsed into itself; the dust from the destruction filled the air around him and he searched the scene with a furious desperation, needing to know what had happened, needing to know if you were here. Through the ash and dust that choked out the fading light of the sunset, Din saw a familiar frame that he would have recognized anywhere — and his heart leapt into his throat as he screamed out your name in fear and all-encompassing terror.

He tried to run towards you, needing to have his hands on you, needing to know that you were alright — but as he drew closer, the air around him felt heavier; it was as if he was trying to run through quicksand, his movements slowed, and requiring more force and exertion than they should have. It was as if there was some sort of barrier around you, preventing Din from getting any closer; and eventually, his ability to move towards you stopped entirely, an unseen and impenetrable wall keeping you apart from him.

But from this vantage point, being about five feet away from you, he could see that you were not alone in this crumbling alleyway. There was a hulking, almost-human looking man with gnarled and rough grey skin, with an evil-looking axe clutched in his massive fist; but something about this scene was... off. The man was large, but there was no discernible reason why his form should be elevated so far above yours.

The pieces finally came together when Din saw that you were standing in front of the man, feet planted firmly on the ground while your arm extended in front of you, muscles straining as your hand was balled into a tight fist...

The man was a marionette on strings, and you were the one puppeting him.

Din felt a sense of horror radiate through him with this realization, but in addition to the churning mix of fear and horror, there was also a tidal wave of relief that hit him as he realized that you were at least not the one in danger. He continued to scream your name, modulator cracking, but even as his vocal cords became hoarse and raw with the strain you never turned to face him; your gaze remained trained on the man who was levitating within your unseen grasp.

The man was desperately dragging his hands across his throat, as if he was trying to remove an invisible noose that had wrapped around it; Din saw the man’s eyes continue to bulge within his awful looking face, blood vessels popping with strain, before Din turned his gaze back to you and watched a rivulet of blood run through your fingers and down your twitching arm, spattering onto the ground below you.

He had never seen anything like this from you before; it was terrifying but he felt as though he couldn’t look away. Din realized that he had really only ever known you as an incredibly kind and gentle person, and that previous image of you now stood out in stark contrast to this indulgently violent, vengeful storm of a woman who held her ground before him. Every image he had of you was turned on its head, taking on additional depth and dimension, as he began to understand that there was much more to your personhood than just your affection and sweetness.

While he had never rushed to dismiss the past abuse you had suffered, he rarely had to confront the knowledge that you had lived a life of extreme and unyielding violence in the twenty-some years before you met him. Of course you would be capable of these things when under duress; he recalled that he had watched you stab the leader of a drug cartel within the his first few hours of knowing you. At the time he had written it off as self defense, and it certainly still was; but he may have been a bit naive to assume that would be the only episode of violence in your life. Maybe there was a piece of him that didn’t want to acknowledge that this facet of you existed; but whether he wanted it or not, it was a part of you... and yet he loved it all just the same.

He felt entirely helpless and useless as he looked on at the scene before him; he couldn’t breach the Force barrier that you had thrown up around yourself and the Delphidian man, but fuck, he couldn’t walk away from you either. In his peripheral, he could see that a small crowd of onlookers had gathered, curious and fearful eyes watching the dramatic scene play out in the town. Mind racing, Din needed to decide what to do — try and fend off the crowd, shield you from prying and intrusive eyes? Or would he continue to fight against this barrier in front of him, never abandoning his original mission of reaching you?

As Din was debating the options at hand, the tension of the moment came to a head and crashed like a tsunami throughout the demolished alley and its crowd of onlookers. And yet despite the deafening, instantaneous crash, it was as if the galaxy was simultaneously moving in slow motion; Din could almost feel the muscles in your forearm and hand constrict, as your wrist brought your bleeding fist into your chest; and the distinct and undeniable crack of bone made his skin crawl. He was no stranger to the sounds of death, but hearing it come from your actions made his stomach turn. His eyes were glued onto you, glued onto the scene that was rapidly unfolding in the wake of his inaction; he saw the hateful and fiery light behind the man’s eyes snuff out as the life left him. Din was familiar with death; he had brought about more bloodshed than was worth weighing, but seeing a life extinguished at your bidding was...

He couldn’t find the words, despite his best efforts. A torrent of emotions was tearing through him, ravaging every previously-held notion and shaking him to his foundations.

The barrier that had separated Din from you finally gave way, same as the Delphidian’s spine had. The invisible Force wall collapsed to the bloodied ground just as the man’s body did, and the sudden disappearance of resistance in the air caused Din to lurch forward into you, his arms extending outwards as he saw you sway precariously. Your full weight landed against his chest as you collapsed into his arms, and then two of you tumbled to the ground, the metallic sound of beskar clanging within the crumbled stone that surrounded you while he tried to cradle your broken-looking body gently.

Din recovered quickly from the fall, shifting to rest on his knees as he brought your limp form closer to him, your head coming to rest on his lap. He cursed the layers of armor and clothing that kept you separate, needing to feel the heat of the blood rushing through your body, needing to feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest with each inhale and exhale. The way that your head lolled and rolled across him brought about a wave of terror and nausea as he worried that maybe he had been too late, maybe you were gone.

But he could still feel a faint and desperately-sought pulse beneath his gloved fingertips; he held onto this flickering bit of hope and pulled your body in closer to his chest, turning the two of you away from the observing crowd and the crumpled, distorted form of the man you had killed. He continued to hold you against his chest for an unknown amount of time, being paralyzed by the fear that any movement may disrupt the tenuous connection you held to this life; he was not sure how long he had stayed like this, cradling you against him, but it felt as though the moment stretched into eternity.

Din knew he couldn’t face the prospect of life in this galaxy without you. You had fundamentally altered and rewritten every piece of his existence, and he refused to go back to the life he had lived before he had met you. That previous life now seemed dull, almost as if it had existed in black and white, before that fateful day he had arrived in your shop — and since that chance meeting, you had brought all of the colors of life rushing to him, pinks and oranges and yellows and blues and greens and purples, a brightness that he had never felt before and worried he would never experience again without you. A life in black and white is an excruciating exercise in deprivation, after having experienced the beauty of technicolor.

And he couldn’t even begin to fathom the devastation that Grogu would experience, if you never returned home. The kid had taken to you as though you were his mother, and the thought of having to tell him that you were never coming back threatened to break Din’s heart just as irreparably as the Delphidian’s neck. Din knew that neither himself or Grogu would ever recover from this sort of loss, and it only made him cling to you even more desperately, praying to every god in existence that you would come back to him. He recalled how he had previously come to the conclusion that he would certainly lay down his life to save yours; and he now feared that he would never have the opportunity to save you as you had once saved him. He couldn’t use the Force to bring you back, he had no medical training to speak of, he felt entirely paralyzed by his lack of knowledge — and paralyzed by the idea that both he and Grogu, having been brought back to life by your hands, would now be the only living vessels for your spirit, the only proof that you had existed and had loved them wholly.

Din was anchoring every ounce of his hope to the faintly beating pulse of your heart when he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder, the unexpected weight of it pulling him out of his reverie. His body turned to face this sudden intrusion, ready to fight whatever had disturbed his connection to you; until he saw the familiar face of Cara Dune, a concerned and saddened look on her face as she surveyed the state that you and Din had found yourselves in.

“We need to get her out of here.” Her deep and gentle voice somehow managed to cut through to Din, bringing him back into the present moment. She was right — he needed to get you out of here, needed to get you home, just as he had intended hours ago. You needed to recover at home, in the small bunk that now reflected the shape of your two bodies; needed to recover in the comfort of your own sleep clothes; needed to move away from the destruction you were now resting in.

Although Cara’s assessment was correct, Din’s shoulders cowed into yours, hunched by the overwhelming fear that any disturbance might be the thing to take you away from him. His head shook in response, the fear overtaking any sense of logic or reason; as Cara’s hands moved to your shallowly breathing chest, he growled and pulled you closer to him, feeling the limp structure of your body clashing with the unyielding beskar that covered him.

“Let us help you,” Cara enunciated softly, the concern evident in her voice. “She needs to recover at home, not here in an alleyway.”

Cara had always been good at finding the words that rubbed Din just the wrong way. She was right in her assessment that continuing to stay here, in the mess of blood and rubble, would not help you; but he also couldn’t stop the pressure that leapt into his throat as fear flooded his body, being terrified of hurting you further. She stepped in closer, her hands coming to rest at the bend of your knees, a subtle offering to assist with carrying you back to the Razor Crest, back home. Din pushed away his fear and shifted his focus to what you needed, not what his feelings needed. You needed Din to bring you home.

He felt broken, stuttered sobs wrench free from his chest as he stood up, gently cradling your upper body against him; the tears flowed freely behind the beskar, and he knew that nobody could see his blatant and unashamed display of emotions; but truthfully, he wouldn’t have cared, his concern for you outweighing any sense of self preservation or dedication to reservation. He was grateful that Cara kept her eyes to the ground, however, not trying to force a visual connection when he was clearly already distraught.

Din and Cara carried your body ever so gently into the cabin of the Razor Crest, being conscious of every bump and every step, before settling you softly into the comfort of the small bunk. The very same bunk that you had transformed from a place of functionality, to a place of love and sensuality. Din couldn’t imagine sleeping here, without you next to him.

Your body instinctively curled in on itself, recognizing the comfort of the bunk; your limbs drew closer as if you were retracting inwards to form a shield against the outside world. This innate and insistent need to protect yourself, that continued to present itself in even the most dire circumstances, broke a piece of Din’s heart that he hadn’t even known had existed. Watching your broken body fight for every breath, Din felt the need to do something to feel as though he was helping; he lifted your head up to allow you to rest you more comfortably on the singular and previously shared pillow, positioning you in the same way that he had seen you rest countless times before. Din cautiously and carefully tucked away the strands of hair that had fallen across your face, before pulling the woolen blanket tightly around your slowly breathing form; he tucked the corners of the blanket in around your body, knowing how you preferred to be wrapped snugly within.

Din had remained crouched next to the bunk, staying close to you so he could continue to watch your shallow but steady breaths, the rise and fall of your chest being the only solace he received during this whole ordeal. He waited for the color to return to your cheeks, watched for any fluttering of your eyelids that would indicate an awakening. He timed the breaths that you took, each shortened interval causing him to panic that something had gone horribly wrong.

Cara and Karga had been his saving grace throughout this entire ordeal as the days passed. The combined efforts of the duo had convinced Din to move from your side for long enough to shower, to use the restroom, to eat something and drink some water. Their coaxing reminded him that he couldn’t do much to help you if he was suffering as well. You seemed to rest in the bunk for an eternity, never tossing and turning as you usually would.

Din’s muscles had settled into the tragically familiar position of sitting next to you in the bunk, when Cara and Karga finally approached him to discuss the event that had occurred, unable to avoid it any further after countless hours had passed. Cara was the first to speak, her voice echoing softly throughout the cabin of the ship. “Bragant was a wanted target. She didn’t do anything wrong, by killing him, but I have a duty to report his death to the registers of the New Republic.”

Karga nodded at Cara’s statement. “He was wanted by many, and had a bounty on his head. I will pay you both for the body and its recovery.”

Din nodded wordlessly; he was not concerned about the man in the alleyway, was not concerned about any payment, was not concerned about anything except when you may come back to him. Your breaths had been even and steady for hours, and yet you had not woken up. He feared that you had suffered an irreparable, soul-shattering crisis and would never recover from this; and if that were the case, he still knew that he would never leave your side, preferring to waste away next to you rather than try and live a horrifically shallow life without you.

As several uncounted and painful hours had passed, Din waiting impatiently by your side, Din felt a shift within the steel walls of the Razor Crest, a gentle hum spreading throughout the ship and its inhabitants. Din’s gaze focused in on your face, searching for an explanation or answer about what was happening, what he was somehow feeling. After what had quite possibly been an eternity, your eyes fluttered open, pupils blown wide and disoriented as your gaze roamed around the location you had found yourself in.

Din choked on the laughter and tears that this moment had brought him, the overwhelming feeling of joy, relief, and disbelief crashing over him like an avalanche, drowning out all of the fear and desperation and hopelessness he had been experiencing just minutes earlier. Din thought he had previously cried out every tear that his body had to offer, but as he saw the light retuning to your eyes, the beautifully familiar eyes that focused in on the man they loved, he felt sobs cracking forth form his chest anew, threatening to break him in half — but this time, with the weight of happiness and relief. His hands reached out to cradle your face, loving how he could finally feel the heat of the blood that had returned to your cheeks. His head came down to rest against your chest as he cried with his whole body, shaking and sobbing as he whispered your name over and over, sending thanks to whatever deity or Force had deigned to bring you back to him, to bring you back home.

“Din,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and cracking; and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, more beautiful than the first time you spoke his name, more beautiful than the sounds you made in bed, more beautiful than your first confession of love for him. “Din, what happened?”

He could hear the nervousness in your voice, and as you had just returned to him, he was loathe to talk about something so terrible, to taint the joy that had filled the small cabin once again. His thumbs traced pressured circles into your soft body, his head continuing to rest at your side. “Oh, my sweet girl,” he sighed, his voice sounding strained and pressured through the tears. “Not tonight, please.”

You nodded and conceded easily, and amidst all of the upheaval of the moment he couldn’t help but laugh as he realized this was likely the first and last time you would ever give in so easily. You were beautifully, infuriatingly, insistently stubborn and he loved every single ounce of fight that burned within you. That same stubbornness kept you alive on Chandrila, brought Din back from the brink of death, taught you and Grogu new skills, and today that same fight and fire had brought you home once again. He would never, ever take a single second of your stubbornness and resilience for granted again.

Din could feel the echo of footsteps coming up behind him, and as his body shifted he felt his muscles and joints cry out with exhaustion; he had no idea how long he had been waiting here next to you, but his body seemed to have counted each second, each day, resentfully. As he repositioned himself, his aching body settled into the floor, his back being propped up against the side of the bunk as he tried to progressively stretch the muscles that he had previously irritated.

Cara and Karga had joined the happy and exhausted scene, the relief evident in their soft smiles. “Glad to have you back with us,” Karga said with a laugh, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling as he looked on at the two of you.

“Gave us quite the scare,” Cara added, before moving to pass a canteen of water to Din. He had come across very few individuals in this galaxy that he cared for, and he now realized that he was exceptionally grateful to know both Cara and Karga, as they had taken care of him during this period of upset, which in turn enabled Din to take care of you. And in a roundabout way, this had also allowed for them to take care of you. He wouldn’t have guessed that these two abrasive and tough individuals would make such an effort, would care for you in this way; but then again — the man hidden in a fortress of beskar hadn’t been impervious to your light and your charms, so it should come as no surprise that others loved you too. For all of your past injuries and mysteries, you were incredibly easy to love and willing to love others back with your whole heart.

Din brought the canteen up to you, encouraging you to have some water. The tenderness with which he cradled your head in the crook of his elbow and brought the lip of the container up to you shocked him a bit, as he hadn’t believed that someone as broken and violent as he was, could still have the capacity to show this much kindness. But clearly, you brought out the best in those around you; every individual in the ship could attest to that.

“The little guy can stay with me again tonight, so the two of you can get some rest,” Cara offered, knowing that both you and Din had a long road to recovery. “We can talk about things more tomorrow.”

Karga nodded in agreement. “My previous offer still stands, as well. But that’s a matter for another day. For tonight, find rest and happiness. The world will keep spinning in the meantime, and we’ll catch up with it tomorrow.”

The duo left the ship without any additional commentary, not wanting to intrude or disrupt the hazy sense of peace and exhaustion that had settled on the scene. As Din heard the ramp to the ship close, the cabin grew dark and quiet as it had so many times before — he had been terrified that he may have to face this darkness alone, but you were still here. From his seated position, he pried the armor off of himself; even these simple and routine actions felt exhausting, but he knew that the nightmare was coming to a close and he would be able to join you in bed shortly. You had drifted back to sleep as Din had readied himself for bed; a faint snore was coming from your sleeping form. As he stood and pulled off his dirty clothing, he paused before getting into bed with you. There was something else he wanted to do first.

His calves and his lower back cried out as he walked across the dimly-lit cabin, to the corner that held your things; he gathered your favorite maroon-colored sleep clothes and your medical kit, before crossing back over to the bunk that you slept in. He carefully brought your injured hand closer to him, before cleaning the cuts that your nails had made; he put on a salve that he had seen you use for wounds before, and then wrapped your palm securely with gauze. He repeated the same steps for the wound that was on your chest, placing a large adhesive bandage over the area. He would’ve given anything to be able to use the Force to heal you, as you had done for him numerous times; how infuriating that something so purportedly pervasive and innate was also so fickle and finicky.

Feeling confident enough in his medical administrations, he then began to exchange your dirtied and damaged clothes with the soft, comforting fabric of the sleep clothes. He moved slowly, not wanting to disrupt or scare you; and he felt incredibly grateful for each beat of you heart that he could feel throughout your body, could feel pulsing underneath your skin.

He finally moved to join you in the bunk, shifting your pliant and willing body to allow him room to rest next to you; as he sunk into the cushions, he wrapped the two of you in the blanket like a cocoon. He realized a bit belatedly that he had left a light on in the cabin, the faint light casting the room with a yellow glow; he knew he should get up to turn it off, seeing as how he had removed his helmet; but as you nestled closely against him, he decided to let it be.

He kissed you repeatedly and ceaselessly, feeling endlessly grateful that this chapter of your shared story had ended on such a hopeful and positive note, when it could have ended in tragedy. He wanted to sink his teeth into this moment, to feel the joy that burst from it like an overripe fruit that falls from the vine. He knew that as long as he lived, he would never tire of this sweetness.

He sighed your name into the nape of your neck, and whispered a soft ‘I love you.’

Your eyebrow raised at his words, allowing for one of your eyelids to open ever so marginally before it drifted closed again; a quiet, “I love you, Din,” passing through your lips with an exhale.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #Din Djarin fic #Din Djarin x reader #Pedro pascal #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #the space between

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franniebanana · 4 years ago

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CQL Rewatch - Episode 7

Their first vow together. So nice! I actually do like the parallels here between Lan Yi and Wei Wuxian, and Baoshan Sanren and Lan Wangji: you have one set being reckless and untamed (I said it) and the other set trying to restore order. It’s kind of funny that the ancestors are switched, though. So here we have Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji vowing to bring all the Yin Iron pieces back to the cold spring pond to neutralize them, and of course Lan Wangji’s first reaction is, “None of your business.” It’s cute how Lan Yi takes Wei Wuxian’s side and has a sense of pride for her close friend’s disciple. I think he’s an honorary Lan in her eyes.

And then Lan Yi gives them a warning to not make the same mistakes she made. Wei Wuxian’s like, “Yep, got it, I promise.” But we all know from the beginning that this obviously doesn’t go well for him, since he dies in the first five minutes of the series. He will go on to make some questionable decisions, most of which are driven by his emotions, which are often not in check. Side note: I love this series, but I don’t like how they took a great grey character like Wei Wuxian and turned him into a character where many of the things that went wrong were caused by other people.

Another side note. That fucking Yin Iron fell on the guqin so many times, and it didn’t dent it at all. Is the guqin made out of iron too? I thought it was wood. If I did that to my violin, I guarantee you the violin would not fare very well.

Forever a favorite moment. It was great enough that they were tied together by Lan Wangji’s headband, but even better that Wei Wuxian fell on him. So great—such a tease to the audience. And this is as close as we get to the scene in the book when Lan Wangji uses the body binding spell to keep Wei Wuxian on top of him all night (ooh, my heart skipped a beat when I read that).

Also, taking the screenshot, I noticed you can see the impression of the little metal piece from Lan Wangji’s headband. Little things like that interest me for some reason. I wonder if it bothered Wang Yibo—did it press too hard on his forehead? I remember him saying he’d get tan lines from the headband.

I love this little smirk he does. A moment when Wei Wuxian’s gift to gab really pays off. Instead of letting Lan Wangji talk and explain the situation, Wei Wuxian keeps speaking, lying about what they were doing. I’d like to think he does it in part to protect Lan Wangji and to stop him from breaking any of his clan rules, but likely it’s another chance for him to prove himself as someone Lan Wangji can trust. And I take Lan Wangji’s little acknowledgement of him there as his silent “thank you.” It says a lot, I think, that Wei Wuxian is willing to lie to Jiang Cheng in order to protect the Lan Clan’s secrets.

I’m sorry, but every time I hear Nie Huaisang say, “You were gone a whole day and night,” my mind immediately goes to the gutter—like the implication is that they were doing something inappropriate during that time. I keep expecting a sex joke, only to remind myself that this was on Chinese television and that would, of course, not happen. Jiang Cheng says a similar thing (and my mind goes the same way that time too), but in that case, canon book Jiang Cheng does later accuse them of having a more-than-friendly relationship, and he does not say it in a nice way.

Also, throughout the scene that precedes this, where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are discussing what to do next with Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, it really feels like wangxian just want to go on a buddy road trip together, and they are so disappointed when they are turned down. Oh, I didn’t screencap it, but Lan Wangji has the saddest sad face at the end.

I think Lan Wangji is a little impressed here but he doesn’t want to admit it. Wei Wuxian has a great gift to come up with ridiculous stories and lies at the drop of a hat. I love that Wei Wuxian doesn’t have to come up with a scary snake story when he could have just told Nie Huaisang what he’d already told Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing, but he does anyway. Mad respect.

This also kind of amuses me because Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji can never really have a moment alone. They keep getting interrupted by other people when I think they just want to talk about what they experienced. Instead we just have all these shared glances. Nothing like a big fat secret to get close to each other, right?

Omfg Jiang Cheng is so jealous! I thought maybe I was imagining it or just projecting my own ideas onto him, but NO—he is jealous! He’s all like, “If you like Lan Wangji so much, why don’t you marry him?” I mean, that basically happened. I’ve gone on about this before, but I love the tension between Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, and the fact that it continues even after Wei Wuxian dies makes it even better. Jiang Cheng is so stubborn and continues to hold a grudge against Lan Wangji, and it bothers the fuck out of him that there’s someone out there devoted to Wei Wuxian, by whom Jiang Cheng feels so betrayed.

And, I mean, by this point, it’s already started. As soon as they get to the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian starts paying more attention to Lan Wangji than he does to either Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli. And Jiang Cheng likes to say, “You’re worrying my sister, you’re hurting my sister” when he really means, “You’re worrying me.” His stupid pride gets in the way of having a good relationship with Wei Wuxian. And I don’t think Wei Wuxian would ever put Lan Wangji above Jiang Cheng, who he considers his family—at least not at this point. It’s not until the second half that things switch, and really, even then, in the CQL-verse, the two are probably equal in Wei Wuxian’s mind. He backs off from Jiang Cheng due to Jiang Cheng’s attitude toward him.

Okay, Jiang Cheng’s jealousy aside, I love how steadfast and supportive Wei Wuxian is of him. As soon as he catches on that Jiang Cheng is jealous, he immediately starts trash-talking the Cloud Recesses and talking up Lotus Pier. It’s very cute, very sweet. He’s a good brother to him, really.

Now who’s jealous? Just kidding. I love his wistful expression here, as he watches them go off. Anyone who’s read the book knows that Lan Wangji does get jealous at times and certainly frustrated with Wei Wuxian’s coquettish behavior. I would say he is more longing at this moment, maybe even wanting to get closer to Wei Wuxian, without really understanding why himself. There’s such an isolation to his world: even though he’s surrounded by other disciples, he doesn’t have any friends. He’s maybe regretting how quickly he refused to the invitation to Lotus Pier. I think, on the one hand, Lan Wangji has found one person in this world who not only shares a secret with him, but who has similar goals—on the other hand, his code of ethics are all over the place. His heart and mind are conflicted: he wants to get closer, but he doesn’t want to make the wrong decision. To his Gusu Lan Clan mind, Wei Wuxian is all wrong, but his heart says otherwise. And I’m not saying he loves him already—but he is already seeing a kindred spirit in Wei Wuxian, someone who he can rely on, someone he can trust, someone who has his back, even if it means bending a few rules. And in a relationship, you have nothing if you don’t have trust.

I never noticed that they were communicating telepathically here. Or something. I dunno. I guess it’s not that clear.

Also if it feels like I’m ignoring all these parts with the Wen Clan, it’s because I am. I mean, not really, but this is all the Yin Iron stuff that I don’t really care about. And I’m not in the Xue Yang fan club either, so I’m not going to spend time on him until he’s actually in it in Yueyang (possibly) and Yi City. Actually, confession: I’ve never watched the Yi City flashback episodes. I read it, so I know it, but I never watched it hahaha. I will this time around. I made that pact with myself.

AWWW, HE SMILED!!!

Ahem, excuse me. This is too fucking cute, though. The rabbit lantern that Wei Wuxian drew just for him, his cute baby smile, and the Wei Wuxian pointing it out with a grin. Cuteness overload—my heart can’t take it.

But I also had a sad thought that if Wei Wuxian hadn’t come over, Lan Wangji would be sitting here alone. He’d make his lantern all on his own, send it off into the sky, say his own prayer to himself, and never hear Wei Wuxian’s, which likely sends Lan Wangji over the edge with his feelings. Everything he thought about Wei Wuxian was true, and maybe it’s okay to like him, maybe it’s okay to consider him a friend, maybe it’s okay to trust him that way.

Just a shot that I liked. Enjoy.

I feel so bad for Jiang Yanli here. I also feel bad for Jin Zixuan, even though he’s a complete dick. I understand how they both feel here—to be tied to someone you don’t know, from the time you were small children is incredibly unfair in my eyes. That being said, I know this still happens in other parts of the world, and it’s implied that it’s common in our CQL/MDZS world (which would make sense, of course). I like the feeling of siding with Wei Wuxian, wanting to come to Jiang Yanli’s defense and protect her honor, while also still having an understanding of how Jin Zixuan must feel about the whole thing. His choice has been completely taken away. And he’s, what, 17 here? What 17-year-old boy wants to be reminded constantly about how he’s already engaged? It’s not typically a young man’s dream to settle down and get married—not that it can’t be! But the implication here, with all the girls tittering about it, is that they’re all excited about marriage, and he wants nothing to do with it. Of course, Jiang Yanli isn’t either. I think she really just wants to get to know him and spend time with him, before even thinking about marrying him.

Ah, a momentous occasion: the first time Lan Wangji tries to stop Wei Wuxian from getting himself into trouble (not counting the first time they met, when he was literally trying to police him while breaking Cloud Recesses rules). I like this shot, because you have Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji on either side of Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Yanli in the front, literally putting her body between him and Jin Zixuan (actually this parallels her final scene). It kind of shows the depths of their relationships (or at least what the director wants to show us). You have Lan Wangji, who grabs onto Wei Wuxian to try to stop him from further brawling; Jiang Cheng, who stands beside him, but isn’t really involved otherwise—standoffish, in a way; and then Jiang Yanli, who physically gets in the way. She’s the quintessential big sister. And I’m not saying Jiang Cheng doesn’t care—he does, but I think his first thought always has to do with the honor of the Jiang Clan and, while he’s standing beside Wei Wuxian, it’s almost as if he doesn’t want to show any involvement with this brawl, because that would look bad.

Ah, the old dudes meeting, while Jiang Cheng stands off to the side awkwardly, wondering if he should be there or not. At the outset, this meeting to decide their children’s future seemed kind of bad, but it actually turned out nice, with them agreeing to call off the engagement. Very progressive, I thought.

Two things I learned in this scene: Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to marry a woman and he doesn’t want to leave the Cloud Recesses yet (TL: he doesn’t want to leave Lan Wangji). He seriously looks so disappointed when she says they’re going home soon.

This feels like a mixture of “I’m worried about you” and “I don’t want to be left out.” We already know at this point that Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to leave the Cloud Recesses (more that he doesn’t want to leave Lan Wangji, because he doesn’t like all of the rules, obviously). He also is very interested in what’s happening with the Yin Iron, as he has also vowed to protect it with Lan Wangji. He is very perceptive—he knows something is happening, that Lan Wangji is going to go off on his own, and he wants to go with. It’s kind of hard to say if this is more out of duty or his adventurous spirit, but either way, he wants to help Lan Wangji.

“After his leave, things will be as quiet here as before.”

Look at how sad he is! The only person he considers a friend has just left, and at this point, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see him again. It’s possible, sure, but then only at clan gatherings, and that’s if Wei Wuxian and Lang Wangji even happen to attend the same one. I believe we know from the book that Lan Wangji doesn’t typically attend gatherings (when he’s older), he often skips them. And Wei Wuxian isn’t necessarily important enough to even be invited, so he would have to be a guest of Jiang Cheng. Obviously we all know that they do go to gatherings and see each other again, but this is what I’d be thinking if I were Lan Wangji, okay? Like, when am I going to see him again? Will I ever see him again?

I leave you with a wholesome picture of Wei Wuxian and a rabbit. Also adorable that he contemplates bringing the bunnies back to Lotus Pier, but doesn’t because Lan Wangji might get lonely. MY HEART!

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

#wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #jin zixuan #cql #the untamed #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wwx #lwj #cql rewatch

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natamoko · 5 years ago

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UNEARTHED by @nakamoto

for @11thsense (3.7K)

(There is a reason why Aidonsvalley stands alone, makes its own decisions, attracts and denies, takes and leaves. There is a reason why it has a heart of its own.)

On the door of the Church of St. Agnes, a page was stamped: “1 PETER 2:4-6 — As you come to him, the living Stone - rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him - you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For in Scripture it says: See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.”

A crimson thumbprint was displayed alongside the words, and Raheem didn’t know whether to take it as some extremely obvious omen or something that should be ignored. He shrugged and went on his way. He had things to do. Nothing necessary, of course.

Aidonsvalley attracted a healthy amount of tourists due to its strange nature. The sun appeared at dawn and left at dusk just like it did everywhere else in the world. Everything worked as it should, but evidently something was amiss. The land chose what it acquired and what it discarded. It chose what it claimed and what it dismissed. And if you did everything right, (and you had to—those who didn’t could never die, those who didn’t would wander and lead a life of toil forever) then the land embraced you warmly enough and you would never get to leave. Raheem had been claimed not too long ago. Partially because of his transformation when he was fifteen, partially for a reason he had not yet understood. That knowledge was long overdue.

Aidonsvalley loved the supernatural, he knew that much.

Despite the wonders it did for the town’s tourism, he couldn’t help but mess with the newcomers everytime they arrived. They marvelled at the aging billboards (“Look, honey, this is the ‘56 ad! From the D’Arcy era; you know I love my beverage trivia—”) and the churches at every corner, more churches than convenience stores. They usually arrived in the evening times when it was cooler, because that was when the neon electronic advertisements would light up. No one ever donated their used dreams, but they sure loved staring at it.

Raheem, from a folding chair situated near a rhododendron bush, noted that these particular tourists looked alike, but not so much that you could mistake them for siblings. They were both wiry and tall, limp blonde hair; one was pulled back in almost identical ponytails, while the other was closely and badly shaven. Diligently poring over the maps in their hands.

The couple peered at the statue before them—Edmund Aidon, the founder of the town. His image was said to be greatly exaggerated, as his biceps were larger than what seemed humanly possible, and his canines were unusually blunt. Still, he looked important, so tourists adored him.

The woman, the one with a fascination for old Coca Cola television advertisements, tapped lightly against Aidon’s thigh. Her partner asked, “Isn’t it magnificent?”

“I’m not too sure,” she said, giving it another light knock before straightening and snapping a photo. “Smile, Edmund Aidon. 1834 to 1911. Timor dei in terra. I think that’s his own personal motto, or maybe something for the town. You studied Latin in school, Geoff, what does that say?”

“All I got was ‘terra’,” he said with a shrug, “Land. And are you okay? Why are you obsessed with that thing?”

Raheem had never offered the statue anything other than a sidewards glance. The tourists in the area generally camped near the lake, hoping to catch sight of the legendary local siren (or something close to that—there wasn’t a word to accurately describe her). Or sometimes they lingered near one of the many churches, over-analysing the scripts hung to the doorposts or trying to catch a word or two from one of the sermons. A rumour had started spreading amongst the tourists a while ago of demons being summoned in church, the house of God being used as a cover. As a demon himself, Raheem knew that was untrue. But its unlikeliness didn’t stop the persistent, eager tourists.

If they were going to remain here, poking at the statue and conversing, they should spend some money on him and make themselves useful. Raheem continued listening to their conversation, considering whether he should use his influence. But unfortunately, he wasn’t really in the mood to make them both walk off the pier, hand in hand, and become April’s supper, or cause them to develop a sudden intense fascination with his father’s restaurant.

The woman turned to her partner. Raheem could see her face from here, all sunburned skin and worry in her eyes. She scratched at her crooked nose and gave the statue one last tap. “I don’t know. It feels hollow, almost. Forgive me for this, but slightly corrugated, even.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” ‘Geoff’ said, not even bothering to check for himself. Idiot. “The guide says it’s made of marble. Marble doesn’t echo.”

“This does.” She sighed and stood up. “Whatever. We should head to the hotel now. I’m starving.”

• • •

It started with Alex losing sleep. Then his jaw would begin to grind against itself while he was both sleeping and awake. His eyes would redden and become sore, the skin on the tips of his fingers would begin ache before breaking and bleed in preparation of what would happen next.

It did not matter whether he was indoors or out, visible to the moon or hidden, awake or asleep. It was an inevitable part of his life. There would be a chanting in his head (run run run), the urge to find someone and pull them apart. Then there would be prey underneath his fingernails and between his teeth, blood would taste more like fear than copper, and the ground would move beneath his feet so quickly it would hear but beneath him. When the sun would rise he would become still and straighten and look eastwards, then shortly find himself waking on the forest floor. That was routine.

This moon was particularly awful. Coffee severely worsened things, made the readjusting of bones so much more painful, and he had been drinking it no less than ten hours ago in order to stay awake and supervise his younger sister’s recent dressmaking project. His parents were not pleased with him being left in charge, especially since the moon was so close, but there had been no one else.

Alex picked a piece of bone from between his teeth, imagining it came from his father’s femur or his mother’s skull. They were the more harmless Aidonsvalley folk—or, at least, the sort that believed themselves to be harmless when they were just weak—and he despised them for it. They were related to him but were not his family.

He suddenly felt around for his glasses’ case. He was not especially helpless without them, but they were the key to looking relatively normal. Only a select few people knew who he was. His moon-addled mind had concluded that his glasses were the key to stopping the residents of Aidonsvalley from looking too closely at him and figuring out exactly what was wrong.

Alex gave up and struggled to his feet, holding a tree for support. Within the forest stood an oak, with the beginnings of a treehouse balanced atop it.

He grinned. It’ll never be finished. Aidonsvalley chose what to keep and what to throw away, and buildings would never be included in the former. The most recent home that hadn’t been destroyed by the town had been built in the mid-twentieth century. It was just another strange part of the town that Alex was simply not particularly interested in solving. However he did like to reminisce about Anita Darlington’s attempt to build a windmill when Alex was younger. She was his aging neighbour, and spent an entire season constructing her windmill, which stood next to her vegetable garden.

It was struck by lightning less than an hour after it’s completion. Alex had been riding his bicycle next to her house when the incident occurred. He still remembered the flash in the sky moving downwards, his hammering heart, the smell of burning wood. He remembered the fright in his chest and Umi’s terrified face. He remembered how pleasant of a day it had been beforehand: warm, but not overbearingly so. Not a single rain-cloud had been sighted.

•••

“I’m telling you,” Raheem insisted, his hand holding onto Umi’s upper arm. “I’ve never seen someone stare at it for so long. You have a good eye—”

“So do you,” said Umi. He gave the statue a gentle knock and frowned. “It feels cheap. Too light. It’s almost like sandpaper. I’ve felt something like this before.”

A week had passed since the incident with the tourists, and Raheem had spent it scamming them by selling useless trinkets and completely fake stories about the origin of the town’s strangeness. He usually undertook little projects throughout the year, but it was summer and he deserved somewhat of a break. The ancient Coca Cola bottle he found buried in his garden and had subsequently sold to the blonde, observant woman would support his expensive lifestyle for at least a week at most.

If Raheem scraped the top layer of the soil in his garden, he could find enough things to set up his own museum. It was not a phenomena exclusive to him, and additionally, no one knew where all those things came from originally. Once, when uprooting weeds, one of the townsfolk, Amara, had discovered that her front garden was soaked in blood, not water. That explained why she couldn’t grow anything more demanding than cress.

Kel took Umi’s hand. He had sort of forced himself into this boring excuse of an adventure, but Raheem didn’t mind because he didn’t mind Kel. He was quite fond of anyone who sought out an entertaining experience.

“Never knew a tourist would work you up this much,” said Kel cheerfully, before pointing to a mark behind Edmund Aidon’s knee. “Hey, what’s this?”

“Looks like a square,” said Umi, leaning forward to see it clearer. “How did you spot this anyway?”

“Not sure,” answered Kel, despite obviously knowing that the mark had shifted itself, working up towards their line of sight so it could be seen. Those sort of things were ignored here. Everything had a life, and its own motives and ambitions. “In my opinion, it looks like a jackhammer, a bit. If you turn your head and squint.”

“No it does not,” said Raheem, annoyed. “It’s a cradle.”

Yes, it did appear to be a cradle the longer he looked at it. The thin bars grew clearer. Somehow he could tell it was wooden. But something about it all wasn’t right—it didn’t look like something carved into the statue. Rather, something that had been a part of it ever since it was constructed. Aidonsvalley didn’t have a symbol, official or unofficial. Something strange was certainly going on. Raheem wasn’t sure if he wanted to dig deeper.

“This is odd,” remarked Umi. “This is the only thing that survives Aidon—no other records as far as I know, and there’s something carved here. Should we look into it?”

“Maybe,” said Kel. “This isn’t very strange for this town, but it’ll be fun to investigate. But where? The library won’t be much help. They don’t keep records there.”

The only library in Aidonsvalley was this stuffy building from the early twentieth century that held absolutely nothing of value. Investigative material couldn’t be brought in for some reason or the other. It was all rejected in some form. The town archives had to be kept elsewhere because of it. As a demonstration of this fact, once, the mayor's niece Stephanie Murray attempted to trace the nearby lake’s history. Her paper had promptly burst into flames, and she decided to complete her project in a café maybe an hour or two away from the town. Really, the only thing the library had going for it was its complete Toni Morrison collection.

“They keep the town’s archive in the church on main street,” said Umi. “You know the one: St. Agnes. Apparently there’s a cellar underneath the altar, but I can’t be too sure.” He turned to Raheem, expressionless. Unsure. “Look, if you can find a way to get in, I’ll help you out. You know I’m not too certain.”

“I know,” replied Raheem brightly. “Doubting Thomas. Do you even think there’s something strange afoot?”

“Well there’s always something going on here,” said Umi, affronted. “If we get caught, it’s your fault. I’ll get Alex in on this as well, it’ll make things easier, I think.” Pause. “Do you want to get ice-cream with us?”

He waved a dismissive hand and turned back to Aidon. “Sure. Go ahead, I just need to check something.”

The two waved—Umi visibly confused but still sure in his own decision, Kel apprehensive and glancing around—and made their way to the nearby parlour.

Raheem placed his hand flat against the statue. Something shifted beneath his touch, he heard a faint noise like a beating drum, and he frowned.

Half an hour later on the other side of town, Alex stood at the lakeside. The lake beside Aidonsvalley (still technically within the town but somewhat shoved to the side) was the subject of many rumours. The tourists all cleared out before the sun had fully set, interested in what apparently went down beside the lake, but still in possession of some sense of self-preservation. Unfortunately, Alex did not have the aforementioned sense of self-preservation.

The only harm that could possibly befall him was if he lost his balance and fell down into the lake. There were pointed rocks below, carefully sharpened at dawn and at dusk, and if he pierced any part of his body, he most certainly would not survive that experience.

There was someone standing on the jetty above the lake. Alex recognised him as one of the Fallow brothers, three siblings from a family of mechanics. They handled the people who “washed up at the town’s shores,” fixed their cars, cleared their memories and sent them away. He was a high school student. Perfectly average. Nearly unnoticed. Graduating this fall.

And April was also below him, treading the water. Her hair floated on the surface. Alex averted his gaze, half out of respect and half to avoid her hypnotic technique. But he still saw her from the corner of his eyes, saw the way she unhinged her jaw and said the Fallow boy’s name: Matthew, in a voice she didn’t possess.

The boy moved closer to the ledge. He crouched and peered through the water. April’s power was clouding the air, turning it green. Matthew moved slowly, as if he were running through a lime cloud as if in a trance. Or a dream. Then he called for his mother and April responded in kind. He, foolishly, reached for the water, looking at her face and seeing his late mother instead of what she truly was. April grabbed his wrist and pulled.

He toppled over easily, and didn’t struggle until April sank her teeth into his neck. He flailed desperately and cried out from under the water. His movements slowed with every second until he finally fell still.

April emerged from the lake a moment later, her upper half collapsing on the ledge. She looked up at Alex and grinned. “It’s rude to watch a siren eat, you know.”

“Really?”

“No,” she said, “But it is an indicator that you’re the main entrée.” Her smile widened. “Kidding, I love you.”

Alex continued to watch the water. “He wasn’t claimed, you know. He can’t die until he gets things right. I’d expect to find him in the sewers. Or in the church.”

“Why’d you think I chose him?” April questioned.

They stared at each other for a moment before Alex reminded her of the time he saved her from these ‘low-quality’ whalers, as he dubbed it. She owed him, she even said that earlier. Then he told her that he needed her help breaking into her uncle’s church. Her hand shot out so fast, tightening around his earlobe, that he shouted and wobbled perilously on the edge.

“Idiot,” she chastised, “Why’d you wanna do that?”

April had this unfortunate habit of being constantly hesitant. It was not a con, for sure, but it certainly hindered any interesting activities Alex thought up. This was the wrong time to be careful, he reckoned, because if there was a mystery surrounding Aidonsvalley, then it was bound to be serious. She should know this.

“Something weird is happening,” said Alex, separating her fingers from around his ear and trying to keep his tone light. If he appeared to be desperate, she might decline just to fuck with him. “Raheem told me.”

“Raheem is a compulsive liar.”

“Not to me.”

He belatedly realised that it was the wrong thing to say.

“No,” April answered with a grin. “Not to you.”

Sensing a serious change of subject, Alex quickly arranged himself to a sitting position further up on the ledge. He balanced his chin against his palm and gave her a long look. She raised her brows in turn.

“Do you not have the stomach for this, April?”

“Of course I have the stomach for this,” she snapped. “I’m just careful, unlike you lot.” She paused. “I’ll help you plan your little heist, but don’t tell me what it’s for.” Despite herself, April grinned at him. “If that happens, I’ll get really interested. Things will all go down from there.”

•••

Raheem sat on the stone steps of St. Agnes, a book in hand. It was in French, a language he didn’t recall ever learning, but he could understand it perfectly. Strange. Even stranger was the fact that he could not walk past the altar for some reason, so Alex and Umi were the ones who had to retrieve the appropriate town records. Raheem was not pleased. He started this adventure, but had been forced to play whistleblower instead.

“How annoying,” he said as his phone began to ring.

“Found something about the town’s origins,” said Umi, breathing hard. From a distance, Raheem heard Alex laugh. “None about Edmund Aidon himself, though. I’m beginning to doubt his existence.”

“Tell me more. Is it interesting?”

A sharp inhale. “Oh, very.”

And it went like this:

The Preston’s were a family known for their hatred for supernatural creatures and how they exercised the aforementioned hatred. Once they were a few generations into the family practice of murder, several other families joined together with them to help achieve their shared goals. They called themselves The Cradle. Soon enough a town was founded for the five thousand or so members, and its name was unpronounceable.

About a century after the town’s creation, someone received word of a counterattack. In just a matter of days, vampires, werewolves and other supernaturals would band together and burn the town to the ground. Fearing something a little worse than death, the townsfolk hypocritically sought out a method to save them. They selected a random person in the town and made them live forever. The exact method, Umi stated, was not stated. Then the other townsfolk transformed themselves into the town—they knocked down the church and all the homes and created new walls out of their own flesh. The altar was made of bone. They drained the lake and replaced it with their own blood. The grass and the trees were fertilised with people, and the person they left behind was meant to bring them back once the danger had been averted, but they didn’t.

With a chill creeping down his spine, Raheem noted that the person might still be in Aidonsvalley. He glanced around in worry for a moment, as if the person might just be standing at his shoulder. Thankfully no such thing existed, but something else attracted his attention.

A porcelain statue near the church’s pillar, of a mother holding its child. It could be mistaken for Mary and the baby Jesus, but its features were hauntingly realistic and unlike the usual paintings of the Madonna and child. Beneath the porcelain was flesh, presumably. Raheem stared at the child holding his mother’s finger, sat in her lap, and felt a feeling both strong and indescribable.

“So presumably Aidon came across an already furnished yet empty town, then re-established it,” said Raheem, “But if that’s the case, wouldn’t there be anything about him? It’s like he just sprouted here.”

Things in this town tended to do that, he reminded himself. He was used to everything here. The tourist had described the statue in a strange manner. Slightly corrugated. That could mean skin, but it was hollow—

“There’s a chance that he was the person left behind,” said Umi slowly, “and no one ever thought to write it down since he’s a constant. You wouldn’t take note of the colour of the sky everyday? It’s either blue, red and sometimes black. We know that.”

They both hung up after Umi agreed to finish up shortly. Kel joined Raheem on the steps, very carefully not meeting his eyes. Perhaps the blue colour was too bright for this time at night, Raheem told himself.

The more Kel touched a stone step with his fingertips, the more it wore away until it revealed a portion of a face. Grey-skinned, open-mouthed, expression trapped somewhere between terror and exhilaration. The person’s eyes, fixed skywards, slowly lolled down to look directly at Kel. If its mouth was visible, Raheem would have received confirmation that it was smiling.

That was two incidents now, he stated privately as his heart jumped. The first was the cradle appearing just as Kel drew near, the second was the face.

When Umi and Alex returned and led the other two away, the stone replaced itself and the face was safely hidden away. As the four followed the path they had followed for well over a decade, Raheem distinctively felt like he was being watched. Perhaps it had always been this way, but now that he knew that Aidonsvalley was a real, living, breathing town, he felt it strongly.

There was one thing he knew for sure, though. When he would eventually sit in his living room, surrounded by relatives that were not family, and press his head against the wall, he would hear breathing. A deep inhale and exhale. It makes the whole world shake, but he’s the only one who feels it. He’s one of the only people that knows this town is made of living stone.

#im taking exams at the moment so if this feels rushed that's why #but anyway i just wanted to write an explanation on why aidonsvalley is Like This to some extent #inspiration came from that one time i heard something breathing in my living room wall while i was praying with my family #my writing

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bellaireland1981 · 5 years ago

Text

Lights, Camera, Coffee in LA Part 2

Ok! Here’s part 2!!! I hope you all like it! I’m really loving writing this one, so I may do more, but we shall see!!

Thank you again to @denisemarieangelina for bouncing ideas around with me and for reading it over!

Characters: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Minor angst (if you squint) FLUFF

After breakfast, I went to grab a shower and get dressed while Michael and Chris discussed the movie project.

Thirty minutes later, I felt more awake and energized. I was excited about being able to spend more time getting to know Chris better. I wrapped my long brown hair up into a towel to soak up some of the excess water before I attempted to wrangle it into any kind of style. While it was towel drying I looked through the clothes I brought with and decided on a pair of boyfriend style cropped distressed jeans with a white v-neck, buttoned down loose fitting tank.

I tackled my hair next, deciding to just comb out the tangles and allow it to air dry. When I didn’t take time to blow it dry and flat iron it, I had a natural wave to my hair. Sometimes it was a nice change of pace to leave it natural.

My phone chimed alerting me to a new text just as I was finishing my makeup. I set my mascara down and picked up my phone to see who had text me.

C: (10:34) I just wrapped up the meeting with your brother, I’ve got a few other things to do this morning, then I’m free. Want to meet at Caffe Luxxe in Santa Monica around noon? It’s close to the pier…

L: (10:35) Sounds great! I’ll see you at noon! I may have to check out the pier after we get our beverage. I’ve never been there. ;)

C: (10:36) Wow! I’m not living that one down. You’ve NEVER been to the PIER?? That’s it...we’re going.

L: (10:38) You’re probably not wrong about that! And you obviously can’t see it, but I’m doing a happy dance right now about seeing the pier!

C: (10:39) So… only happy to see the pier? You can’t see it, but I’m crying over here.

L: (10:41) Wow...needy much? LOL Don’t cry, I’m more excited to see YOU again! ;)

C: (10:42) That’s better! ;) See you soon!

Smiling, I tucked my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and headed downstairs to find my brother again.

It wasn’t hard, he was out on the patio where I’d left him and Chris earlier. He was finishing a phone call as I sat down in the chair Chris had been in.

“So, figure out what you’re doing today?” Michael asked after hanging up the phone.

“Yup!” I replied beaming at him, “I’m meeting Chris for coffee at Caffe Luxxe in Santa Monica and then we’re going to go to the pier. I’m trying to tame the inner freak out before I go meet him so he doesn’t realize I’m a complete dork.”

“Dork or not he’s the lucky one to get to spend time with you, Little Bit.” Michael replied looking worried, in a way only a big brother could. “Just be careful. I don’t know that you know what exactly you’re getting into here Lena.”

“I thought you liked Chris, Mickey.” I said, frowning at my brother. “Why are you now cautioning me against him?”

“I do like him, Little Bit” He explained, “He’s a great guy, but he’s not just some random guy you met on a plane with a “normal” job. He lives in the public eye, and has a very large fan base. Dating a celebrity isn’t easy. Not to mention, he seems to have commitment issues.”

“Wow” I replied, annoyed with my brother. “I admit that your concerns about him being a celebrity have some merit, only from the standpoint that you’re right, I’ve never dated anyone famous. Not that I’d call going for coffee and hanging out at the pier necessarily “dating”. I don’t even know if he is interested in me that way or if he simply wants to be friends. But you’re not in any place to talk about commitment issues, Michael. Before you met Talia you were a manwhore and said often you didn’t want to be “tied down”. Obviously, people can change and what may be true of someone when they’re younger, may not be the case as they get older.”

I got up from the table to head back into the house. I loved my brother, but he’d always been overprotective of me and never really seemed to get that I’d grown up.

“Lena,” Michael called after me, “I’m not trying to piss you off, I just want you to be careful is all. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m a big girl, Mickey.” I replied glancing back, “I don’t need you to protect me. I am capable of deciding who I am friends with and even who I date.”

“I know that, Lena” He replied, “I’m just trying to look out for you. It’s my job.”

Thankfully, Lia walked out onto the patio at that moment, having just gotten back from her meeting. I needed her to run interference with Michael and give me a chance to breathe.

“She’s not even here for a day, and you’ve already pissed her off I see.” Lia commented, eyeing us both as she sat down in the seat I had vacated. “Does it have anything to do with a certain Captain Hottie?”

“Not you too” groaned Michael, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration, “You’re not even Team Cap!”

“No, but I’m Team Lena” Lia said, looking at Michael with a raised eyebrow, “And I like Chris. I think they could be good for one another. Now stop being an overprotective brother and tell your sister to have fun today!”

“Have fun, Little Bit.” Michael parroted his wife, “I’m still planning on grabbing stuff to grill out tonight… maybe see if Chris would like to come for dinner?”

I knew he was trying to smooth things over so I cut him some slack for now. I walked back over and gave him a hug.

“Now was that so hard?” I asked, smiling. “I can check to see if he’s available, and I’ll text you to let you know.”

“Have fun, Lena!” Lia said, winking at me. “I can’t wait to hear all about it!”

“Thanks, Lia!” I laughed, hugging her, “I’m so glad you married my brother!”

I left them on the patio and went back inside to grab a drink and head up to my room to finish getting ready.

________________________

A few minutes before noon, I arrived at the coffee shop as luck would have it found parking close by. I pulled my phone out to send Chris a quick text to let him know I’d arrived. He’d text me twenty minutes ago letting me know he was headed back towards the cafe, but that traffic was heavier than he’d anticipated.

L: (11:55am) Just got here, I’m going to head inside. No rush, please drive safe!

I headed inside not expecting a reply as he was driving. I found a quiet table in the back corner where I figured we’d be able to blend in a little more. The cafe wasn’t overly crowded, being noon, so we’d have some semblance of privacy.

My phone pinged with a new message as I sat down. I quickly pulled it out to check it.

C: (11:58am) I’m about 5 minutes away. Be there soon!

L: (11:59am) STOP TEXTING AND DRIVING CHRISTOPHER!

C: (12:01pm) Voice to text, I swear! I kinda like it when you yell at me lol.

L: (12:02 pm) You’re a meatball. You can’t see me right now, but I’m rolling my eyes at you. Just be safe. I found a table in the back corner to the left as you walk in.

L: (12:02pm) Gonna order drinks, whatcha want?

C: (12:03 pm) Hold on, walking in now!

A couple seconds later the cafe door opened up and Chris strolled in, eyes scanning the room. A smile lit up his face once he saw me and he headed back to the table I had claimed.

“That was a very accurate time estimate” I said teasingly, “5 minutes on the dot.”

“Do I lose cool points if I admit it’s what my GPS told me?” He asked, laughing.

“I’ll give it to you this time.” I said, smirking at him.

“I’ll go grab us some drinks,” He said, still smiling. “What would you like?”

“Iced mocha, please!” I requested, “Too warm for hot coffee.”

“It’s never too warm for coffee.” he said, giving me the cocked eyebrow look and failing to look stern.

While Chris went to the counter to get our drinks, I glanced at my phone and saw a missed text from Talia.

T: (12:06 pm) Don’t forget to invite Captain Hottie for dinner!

L: (12:08 pm) LMAO, does Mickey know you’re continuing with that nickname? And I will ask him…if you promise to keep my brother on a leash ;)

T: (12:08 pm) DEAL! And he knows my heart belongs to him...and Iron Man.

I laughed at my sister in law as I tucked my phone away.

“One blasphemous iced mocha for you.” Chris said, and set the drink in front of me, “One normal and perfectly perfect coffee for me.”

“Blashphemous coffee, huh?” I asked, laughing at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard coffee referenced in that way.”

“I mean, I just call it like I see it.” He replied, taking a sip of his coffee. “What had you laughing when I was walking back?”

“Lia text me” I said, suddenly nervous to ask him over for dinner. I didn’t want to appear over eager or assume too much about our new friendship. Of course, Chris was perceptive enough to catch the change in my voice.

“Hey,” he said smiling, “I can hear you thinking over there, everything ok?”

“Yeah” I replied, taking a deep breath. Deciding the worst that could happen would be he’d say no, I forced myself to ask him. “She was reminding me to ask ‘Captain Hottie’ over for dinner tonight. My brother is grilling.”

Chris threw his head back and grabbed his chest, laughing. It gave me a rush to know I’d accomplished making him laugh hard enough for the left boob grab twice now since meeting him. I had to laugh with him, because his laugh was actually contagious.

“There’s so much to unpack there” he said, once he got himself under control again. “First, I’d love to come to dinner, it sounds great. Second, I’m not sure how I feel about the new ‘Captain Hottie’ title… at least from your sister in law… I could be open to it from a certain new friend… and finally, were you really nervous to ask me? You’re adorable when you get nervous by the way.”

At a complete loss for words, I took a moment to collect myself and took a sip of my coffee. I wasn’t sure how to handle Chris flirting with me. Was he flirting? Ugh!

“I don’t even know what to say to any of that.” I admitted, blushing. “So, I’ll just let them know you’ll be coming to dinner.”

Chris laughed again, and winked at me as he took a drink of his coffee.

“So, how did the rest of the meeting go with my brother?” I asked, changing the subject.

“It went well, actually.” He smiled, knowing what I was doing. “It looks like I’ll be in LA most of the summer.”

“That’s great!” I exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically, “I mean, since it was a project you were wanting and all.” Smooth, Lena, not at all obvious here.

“It is great!” He agreed, “I’m very excited to do this movie, but I’m also really interested in spending some more time with this fun, gorgeous, wicked smart, and hilarious girl I met on the way out here.”

“This person sounds pretty great” I replied, melting at his words, “You’ll have to introduce us! I could use some friends to hang out with this summer. And did you seriously just use “wicked” as an adjective? You’re so Boston.”

“Alright, Miss sassy pants” he said, tossing a balled up napkin at me, “Let’s head to the pier, see what kind of trouble we can find.”

We spent several hours hanging out at Santa Monica Pier. We rode the roller coaster, ferris wheel, played a bunch of games, ate way too much junk food, and I swear, I’ve never laughed so hard in my life. I really enjoyed spending time with Chris.

After we finished exploring the pier we decided to head down and walk along the beach for a bit before we needed to head to my brother’s for dinner.

“I had a lot of fun today, Chris!” I said beaming at him. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”

“It was fun seeing it as new through you,” He replied, causally reaching out to hold my hand in his as we strolled, “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. I think my nephew Miles was three the last time we were here.”

I enjoyed the feeling of his strong fingers laced through mine as we walked along the beach. I always loved being by the water, but being here with Chris made it even better. It was like we were in our own little bubble.

We walked a little further down the beach lost in each other’s company, laughing, and just enjoying the afternoon. Suddenly, Chris stopped walking, his hand squeezed mine tighter, causing me to stop walking and turn towards him.

“Everything OK?” I asked seeing that he had tensed up, a frown on his face.

“Yeah” he replied, his voice full of tension mixed with what sounded like anxiety. “We should head back.”

I wasn’t sure where the abrupt change in him came from. Had I said something wrong and upset him? I frantically went back over the conversation, not sure what could have upset him.

“Chris?” I started softly as we walked back towards the pier and his car. He had dropped my hand and was moving at a faster pace. I wasn’t even sure he’d heard me. When he didn’t reply, I decided to keep quiet and follow his pace.

It only took a few minutes to make it to the parking lot where Chris’ car was parked. He unlocked it remotely and walked over to the passenger side to open the door for me. Even now, he was a complete gentleman. I quietly got in and buckled my seatbelt waiting on him to walk around and get in on the driver’s side. I kept quiet on the way back to the cafe where my car was parked, trying to figure out what to say to him.

He pulled in next to my car and put his in park, turning to look over at me. I could see the wheels turning in his head. Deciding to let him off the hook and get out of this before my emotions got the best of me, I turned towards him and tried to paste what I thought was a genuine smile in my face.

“Thanks for today, Chris,” I said softly, not trusting my voice, “I had a lot of fun.” I quickly unbuckled the seatbelt and reached over to open the door.

“Lena” Chris jumped out of the car and quickly caught up to me. He reached out and gently grabbed my hand, turning me around. “Wait.”

“It’s OK, Chris” I reassured him, my resolve quickly leaving me, “We can hang out another time…. If you want that is. If not, I had a really great time getting to know you.”

“Lena, stop” He replied, thankfully stopping my babbling. “I had a lot of fun with you today, I like being with you. It’s easy to forget the rest of the world exists when I’m talking to you…. I just got so caught up in you, I let my guard down and forgot to be on the lookout for paparazzi. They followed us on the beach, and I’m pretty sure they got pictures of us together.”

“So, it wasn’t something I said or did that upset you?” I asked quietly, hating that I was feeling so insecure.

“Fuck no,” He replied instantly pulling me towards him and engulfing me in a hug. God, this man could hug, and he smelled amazing, even after being in the hot sun all day. “Lena, I doubt there’s anything you could say or do that would upset me. It’s just that in the past, my relationships often tanked because of the media or over-critical fans hounding whoever I was dating. It would kill me for you to be hurt by that.”

“I’m made of tougher stuff than that,” I replied, “Today’s insecurites aside, that is. I guess I just wasn’t really sure what this was, and didn’t want to assume anything. I thought we were having a great time and then after the beach I thought you wanted to get away from me as fast as humanly possible...or that you were wishing you had some of Cap’s super speed. I’m going to shut up now.”

Chris laughed and dropped his head down so that his forehead was now resting against mine, which brought me up against the solid wall of his chest again.

“This,” he started pulling away slightly to look me in my eyes, “was definitely a memorable first date. That is going to quickly be followed by our second date, which is dinner at your brother’s. Then, being as it’ll be our second date and all, I’m hoping to get to kiss you goodnight after making arrangements to meet up for our third date. I’m thinking Disneyland for that by the way. After that, I plan on continuing to date you until I eventually wear you down and you agree to be my girlfriend. How’s that for transparency?”

“I got stuck on the second date and mentions of kissing.” I smiled up at him, biting my lip, “Is that a hard rule for you… waiting for the second date? Because then I can make the argument that coffee was technically the first date then, the pier was our second and dinner tonight would be third.”

“That’s where you got hung up?” He asked laughing, “Ok, what about the rest that whole spiel?”

“Dinner, kiss, Disneyland, more dates, girlfriend, got it.” I answered, “So back to the second date thing.”

“As long as we’re on the same page.” He joked, tilting my face up towards his. He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine gently before pulling back again way too quickly.

“You’re killing me Smalls” I groaned at the teasing kiss. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Great movie!” He laughed, “I promise to make it up to you, Sweetheart. After our third date.”

“I plan to collect.” I replied smiling.

“I look forward to it.” he said then leaned in and brushed another quick kiss on my lips, “See you in a bit. Drive safe please, precious cargo and all that.”

“Ditto.” I said getting into the car. “I’m really glad I had an early morning flight to L.A.”

#chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans

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henshengs · 5 years ago

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stripedroseandsketchpads replied to your post “I am so passionate in my belief that mdzs instantly becomes twice as...”

^^ (I do like Yanli's big sister issues and like, the way in which she kinda. Grows into those stereotypes, and also I usually keep JC bc the family dynamic in my AU of '2 older sisters that he's somehow expected to be in charge of/who are meant to defer to him and it's WEIRD' is smth I'm attached to but... v v interesting on both counts... I'd love to hear thoughts if you had more?)

so I know it’s an unpopular opinion, but Yanli never grew on me. There’s definitely a lot of interesting potential there in her parentification and eldest daughter syndrome, but canon never does anything with it that satisfies me. She is defined solely as daughter/sister/mother, never allowed to express any emotion besides gentle concern for the men to whom she is a morality pet/motivation object, and her role in the narrative is to be fridged. Xuan Lu is an amazing actor but I can’t stand the character.

Make her male though, and, well, he’s still flat, but male characters are so rarely this kind of morality pet that I’m suddenly interested. Especially once we consider why a male character would end up in that self sacrificial caretaking role, why he’d be disqualified as a sect heir. I end up imagining basically Nie Huaisang as an eldest child: untalented and uninterested in cultivation or combat or politics, also gay as hell, possibly visibly so in a way that damages his credibility as an heir (though I know very little about gender nonconformity in a xianxia setting).

Jiang Cheng, meanwhile, is a kind of common trope of The Unfavorite Brother that I usually can’t stand because it’s never executed quite the way I want it. MDZS pulled off a miracle and actually did execute it just to my tastes, but she’d still be so much more interesting as a woman with that kind of storyline. Her love of roughhousing with her brother becomes something she is even more ashamed of, not simply because her mother hates him and Jiang Cheng’s love feels like a betrayal, but because tomboyish behavior isn’t proper and Jiang Cheng is very concerned with propriety and appearances and pride. Her feelings of inadequacy become so much sharper when Wei Wuxian, head disciple, is there being male and perfect and everything her father thinks a sect leader should be. Her resentment of Wei Wuxian’s shamelessness and freedom is bitterer. Her despair after losing her core is more acute because without cultivation, she has nothing, she’s just a girl. And yeah, her relationship with her mother is even more toxic because Madame Yu is also projecting all her own issues with the patriarchy onto her daughter.

Then there’s Jin Zixuan and Wen Qing. In the book it’s stated that madames Jin and Yu made a promise when they were young that if their firstborn children were the same gender they’d be sworn siblings, and if they were different genders they’d be betrothed. So in this universe, Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan are sworn brothers, and I think Jin Zixuan becomes deeply attached to him. We see that he has an affection for those he perceives as underdogs- defending MianMian, defending the maid he thinks is bringing him soup, defending Jin Guangyao to their father. I can see him becoming protective of his older sworn brother who the other young cultivators are disgusted by because he is so weak and unmanly.

I think the Jins would push for a Jiang Cheng/Jin Zixuan betrothal but Madame Yu would oppose it because Jiang Cheng needs to stay in Lotus Pier and rule, either directly or in Jiang Yanli’s name, because otherwise there’s a real chance Wei Wuxian ends up in charge and she can’t stand that thought.

Then there’s Wen Qing. Jiang Cheng meets her at Gusu Summer Camp and loses her entire mind, because gay first crushes often feel like more of a Huge Deal than straight ones. And she freaks out because she has to be perfect so she can be Sect Leader, she cannot spend all day fantasizing about Wen Qing railing her!!! Da-ge I think I’m gay pls help

#stripedroseandsketchpads #replies #rule 63 #yunmeng siblings

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nikkiwriteswords · 6 years ago

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you’re the go to headcanon person and this has been keeping me up at night so i raise you this question: where do you think the academy is located? i know it’s filmed in canada, but the only indication of location is that they live in “the city”

Wow, thank you! I hadn’t expected I was doing much more than yelling into a void about my weird obsessions. It’s great to hear that you like my headcanons. Challenge accepted, come at me with your imaginary buildings and let’s make wild assumptions about them:

Let’s first point out that, from a narrative standpoint, not specifying a true location allows the audience to project their own subjective experience onto the places and spaces we see in a show, allowing us to flesh out the worldbuilding through our own assumptions. It also allows the authors and co-creators to amalgamate their own memorable places and spaces together, to create a city of memory and associations personal to them and the message they want to convey.

Coincidental then, but apt, is the fact that all American cities just merge into one generic urbanscape in my head - probably because I’m British and the American dramas I watch don’t go out of their way to diversify their geography not that I’m paying much attention, my bad. So if TUA has specified a city, I missed it completely. I am aware this is very narrow-minded of me and highly inaccurate, so take the following breakdown with a large pinch of salt.

That said, after analysing some screenshots to death and some Googling of historical context - which is the extent to my American socio-historical knowledge - I’ve decided that I headcanon Boston to be the city in question. Or there abouts.

Why? Well, my favourite way to complicate things work out locales is by taking clues from the spaces and buildings themselves, as well as their surroundings. So, let’s do that:

I’d love to go into the Neocolonial (Georgian Revivalist) architecture of the main Academy façade, which places it at about the turn of the 19th/early 20th century, but to be honest my main clues come from the surroundings we see in TUA 1x10, The White Violin:

Reginald Hargreeves arrives off a ship, the Carol Ann, from (we assume by his accent) Victorian England in 1928. See the stamp? “Pier 7 1928″.

We can therefore assume that this ship has arrived at a port in the Northeast. Already I’m drawn towards the New England area. The rest of the immigration card is frustratingly blank, but we can see from the next shot of D.S. Umbrella, the factory that will become the Academy, that the city is a hive of industrial activity – to be expected from a country in the throes of an industrial revolution.

A quick internet search later, and I discover that not only was Massachusetts the cradle for a lot of fundamental infrastructure in the United States at this time, but one of its main industries was textiles – not a big jump to umbrellas from there. Things are coming together.

I then looked at this for a while. This image is, I assume, totally fabricated. Everything in this shot is intended to be there. Looking for more clues – we’ve got corroborating dates, plus fashion and a car that look about right: The grocer’s signage has the date “Est. 1893″, and D.S. Umbrella will in the next shot give its establishment date as 1898. Is that gym advert a legit business? (It is not.) What about the sign for the printing press? That’s interesting - this tells me that not only is the city one of industry, but one of letters. Perhaps I’m picking facts to suit fiction but I know Cambridge, MA, in particular has a long history of literary revolution. Whilst I don’t see Reginald Hargreeves rubbing shoulders with the likes of Transcendentalist poets, I do see him as someone who wishes to surround himself with ingenuity, industry and an affluence that would help furnish his lifestyle: he is after all a jet-setting, Nobel prize scientist and inventor. Although I don’t know much about Boston culture, which would go a long way to helping prove or disprove this theory, I do feel he would fit well into the New England upper class and its preoccupations. What do you think? I’m really curious. Can anyone else shed some light on this? Am I completely off the mark? As always, the ask is open.

#ask #answered #nikkiwrites #headcanon #nikkiwatches #tua #the umbrella academy #tua 1x10 #the white violin #scene analysis #i am in no way whatsoever an expert on american geography history or culture #please factcheck or lmk if i made any bad assumptions #american history #american geography #imaginary architecture #reginald hargreeves #character analysis #small character analysis

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nalufever · 7 years ago

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1,2,5,6,7,13,20,23,30,33,40,50,53 and 54 for the game for writers please! (Happy Holidays as well <3 Sorry about the list xD <3)

Bless you, for sending an ask! <3 No worries at all about how many questions!

1. Favorite place to write. I almost always plop myself on the desktop computer for writing. At odd times I make notes on paper or my phone - but for actual flowing words - I need the comfort of a full-size keyboard!

2. Favorite part of writing. LOL Um, reviews. Like a spoiled child, I NEED validation. Not even kidding. Feedback is my lifeblood. ;)

5. 📚 or authors that influenced your style the most. MMM! I want to wield words like Terry Pratchett, Douglas Adams, Isaac Asimov, Piers Anthony, Anne McCaffery! The mastery of humour, wit, dialogue, and characterization; to this and more I aspire!

6. Favorite character you ever created. A minor character who grew to have QUITE the impact on the story~ Mary the maid (from Into My Debt). She's got a lot going on. The more I used her to move the story along, the more her personality grew and developed.

7. Favorite author. From published works? So hard to choose! I've already mentioned the style influencers - they're my faves to read as well. Gonna add a few fanfic authors here! @impracticaldemon (she’s a good friend and frigging talented) @brokenbookaddict (from the Flash fandom ~ I love her content and masterful storytelling) @soprana-snap (always fab content) @snogfairy (polished and smart) @hidetheremote (smutty and passionate about writing) @petri808 (smutty and fun ^^) @caffeinewitchcraft (incredibly talented and awe-inspiring ~ it’s a good thing I’m a bit buzzed or I’d be too shy to add her to the list) Okay ~ that’s sufficient. Just know that there’s more I could add but for the constraints of time and space.

13. How do you deal with writers block? Sometimes I switch to another project and sometimes I spend time with a new/old fandom! And lots of times, I give myself permission to come back to a WIP after watching some TV or reading or whatever real life wants me to deal with ~ ;)

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on. Fairy Tail (Natsu's Stars in Lucy's Sky):

"What about what I want?" Lucy couldn't stop her petulant words. "Desire like this is a two-way street." Her legs shifted to try to ease the ache newly awakened. "I have wants just like you do."

"I have every intention of giving you what you need--" Natsu rolled onto his side and threw a leg over Lucy's hip, panting his words, "It's up to you when and where. Keep on pushing and I'll claim you now. I can't resist."

23. Single or multi POV, and why? Here's where I expose my ignorance. Lots of time I'm just writing and the POV shifts on its own. Most of the time I try to keep it single - but - there are times I fail!! Why? I'm trying to keep it clean/clear so the readers can follow easier.

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written. Goodness! Usually something in whatever I posted last! Or if it was from real life ~ or just SPEAKS to me. Okay, that jobs my memory! I'll have to hunt for it. From something ever so old, but, it fits the criteria!! Here we go!

When Lucy was honest with herself, she knew Natsu was her choice; whether or not he would choose the same, was immaterial. He was the person she wanted and needed to become the happiest person she could be. She would pick him time and time again, no hesitation. Lucy dated less and less the more she understood her feelings for her team mate. It didn't matter to her how well a potential boyfriend seemed suited for her, Lucy was willing to wait - not settle for second best.

Natsu held his own understanding of his needs and wants. He didn't put it into something so pedestrian as words, he had gut feelings that guided his actions. When the slayer needed a snack, he'd head over to Lucy's place. If Natsu wanted someone to play a game, why, Lucy was always first choice. Play a prank? Lucy. Bath? Lucy's tub. Sleep? Lucy's bed. Relax? Lucy's bed with Lucy in it.

Natsu was content to live his life without vocalizing his goals. Lucy didn't need for Natsu to declare her importance to himself; it was enough the truths in their hearts could speak to each other. Days and weeks and months snowballed. The nightmares faded, new memories forged stronger bonds. Waking up limbs entangled, face to face, breaths mingling, it was effortless to close the gap to each other's lips and greet the day smiling.

All right - more than one line - but this, to me, felt like I was summing up their relationship in the best possible way.

33. Do you listen to 🎶 when you’re writing? Often music, anime ops and ends or instrumentals ~ never TV (because I'll stop writing)

40. Original Fiction or Fanfiction, and why? More fanfic ~ I have a few ideas for original stories - but I'm still 'honing my craft' in the fanfic arena. *shrugs*

50. Weirdest story 💡 you’ve ever had. I've had a few WEIRD prompts suggested to me (Wendy's ass growing gigantic and making Romeo lose his mind for one) ~ but, the oddest story I've written from my own brain would have to be a very short RWBY fic. I'm confident that It's the weirdest on account I received this comment: 'An interesting concept. Would be fun to watch develop. What sparked this particular crack to form in your mind?'

It's short, so here it is: (A Dance With Fists)

Mercury wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and grinned. "That all you got, little girl?"

Batting her eyelashes, Yang tilted her head as she rubbed her knuckles on the neckline of her shirt. "Funny, I was just about to ask you the same question." Smirking, she raised both hands to inspect her nails. One hand was flesh and the other a cybernetic copy. "Without your little friend to mess with my mind you're gonna have to STEP up your game." Shifting her feet, the blonde added a sly dig, "That's if I didn't damage your fake leg too much already."

"Oi, and here I thought you weren't into manly men." Mercury sniggered, gave Yang a broad wink and a suggestive twist of his lips. "My third leg isn't fake, darling."

"Did you want the truth or something that will make you feel better?"

Mercury rushed Yang, they struggled. Each punch Yang landed was a solid blow, making him smile wider. Mercury savoured the pain; half mesmerized by her golden hair and the fire in her eyes. He was a sick man, he knew that. He couldn't think beyond this moment, grappling with this girl who hated him. Pain was pleasure and he wanted everything Yang could give him.

53. What does writing mean to you? Writing is a chance for me to reach out and share some of my excitement in a fandom. Validation from reviews - appreciation from favs, follows - it means I get to leave an indelible mark on this world. Something I MADE touched people and can be discovered however later by fans when they search, looking to read about their OTP or fandom. It's immortality.

54. Any writing advice you want to share? Write! Self-indulgent fics! Clichés! Original works! Talk to your internet friends and support them and they'll return the favour. Read books. Live life and when inspiration strikes - take that idea in a choke-hold and spew word vomit on your page. Take a few days and then edit with a vengeance. Ask your beta for help and listen. Whatever they have an issue with needs adjustment. Maybe the direction they think you ought to move, you don't have to agree with - but the base 'wrongness' is right. Keep working!

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jessaadventures-blog · 7 years ago

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Week Two: Lovin’ Life in Lobitos

A Lobitos boat out on the water. Spot the blue water tower in the background - a great place to watch sunsets!

This week was another good one! There were some fun adventures, I made some decent progress on my project, met more of the locals, and saw much more of Lobitos. Apart from a bit of an upset stomach, everything has only been getting better!

The EcoHouse

One of our homemade pizzas from our midnight pizza party, with a vegan portion :)

There have been some more shifts in the EcoTeam this week; Andres arrived on Saturday to replace Alejo leaving last week. Andres is the third of the four directors I’ve met, and he’s a fun addition to the house! He’s known as the most chill and spontaneous director, and it definitely shows. He loves to tell us stories of his life (he was born in Canada and moved to Lima when he was ten, where he met the other three directors in school, and then went to Toronto for university and ended up on the Wall Street of Canada for a few years before he moved to Lobitos to start EcoSwell) and throws in some Peruvian history too. He is also mostly vegan, so now I’ve got a friend in the food department!

Diego, the other director that was here, left Thursday to vacation with his girlfriend and speak at a big UK conference in Rio de Janeiro. He’ll be back in a few weeks with his girlfriend, who is the volunteer coordinator for EcoSwell, and I’m excited to meet her!

Michael, the only director I haven’t met, arrives Sunday to replace Diego while he’s gone. Michael’s spent most of his time in the UK and doesn’t come to Lobitos as much as the other three, so he’s known as the “city kid”. It’ll be interesting to see how he fits in at the house, and I’m excited to see the dynamic between Andres and Michael as directors.

There’s also a big volunteer change-over this weekend; we’re losing half of the crew and gaining two newbies! Kyler flew out on Saturday (after two months in the EcoHouse), Dion just left today (he’s been here three weeks), and Javi leaves tomorrow, Monday, after just two weeks. There’s a new volunteer arriving today and another arriving Monday, so we’ll have one empty bed in the house for a little while (Isa and I get a room to ourselves and I can move to the bottom bunk now that Javi will be gone)!

I’m excited to show the new guys around, but I’ll miss having people here who know more of the secrets of Lobitos than I do.

As for the general happenings in the house, we’ve had a few more fun meals (some yummy veggie pasta and garlic bread Monday night, taco Tuesday again, a midnight pizza-making and bonfire party initiated by Andres, and Andres found some soy milk for me so now I can have cereal!), watched the first season of Silicon Valley together, experienced two blackouts (one in the morning, one at night), and played Secret Hitler (a board game that I played a lot while studying abroad in Australia, which happens to be the go-to group game here as well). I’ve also gotten back into reading Lord of the Rings, which I started almost a year ago in Australia, and now I’m almost done with the trilogy!

The only downside of the week was the upset stomach that I’ve had for the past four days (pretty much everyone gets it during their second week of volunteering, so nothing out of the ordinary), but it’s feeling a lot better now!

Work

Javi and I “painting” silicone onto the distiller!

This week I actually got to start working on the solar distiller, and we got a lot done with it! The distiller had already been designed and the frame had been built by previous volunteers, so I mostly have the job of putting it all together, making sure the system works, and putting it to use in the community! Part of this is painting the basin (where the water goes) with black food-grade silicone caulk, so the wood is waterproof, the water isn’t contaminated with chemicals, and the leftover salt can be used for cooking. The previous volunteer that worked on the distiller had painted the silicone on and then realized, just before the whole basin was covered, that the silicone wasn’t food-grade. So he spent the rest of his time scraping it back off again (that had to suck). He didn’t quite finish before he left, though, so Javi and I spent the first two and a half days of the work week scraping the rest of the silicone off the distiller so we could repaint it with the food-grade silicone we now have. On Thursday, we painted the distiller with white primer, and Friday we were able to almost finish painting the silicone on the basin (I learned that silicone caulk is a really hard thing to “paint” and it doesn’t like to be smooth and it stinks). So, we’re already a couple steps closer to a complete solar distiller! With Javi leaving, however, I’m losing my project partner, though one of the new volunteers will likely be helping me out when they arrive.

Outside of my main project, I posted on Facebook and SteemIt a couple times about EcoSwell’s progress/events and we had our weekly planting day on Wednesday starting at 6:30am. The guys spent the four hours of planting day trimming branches, grasses, and other plants around the house, and Isa and I checked all of the drip irrigation holes to make sure they were working, added some more drip lines, and planted a bunch of seeds ready to germinate in the nursery.

Adventures

Sunset at La Punta - spot Gino surfing the crazy wave!

We did some fun things this week outside of the house and work! On Friday we went to check out a new restaurant in town called 420 Cafe, which has great pastas and pizzas (I had yummy pesto gnocchi), a chill surfer dude atmosphere, some fancy cocktails (and wine!), and fast wifi! On Saturday I hung out on the beach and read for a while (and got covered in sand, thanks to the wind), and that evening we all went up to the water tower, the highest point in town, to watch the sun set over Lobitos. It was a fun little walk with a great view and we saw some roaming horses and wild foxes on the way down.

Sunday was the main adventure day of the week; all the newer volunteers (Dion, Ale, Javi, and me) went on the Lobitos Ocean Adventure run by Tulio, a local fisherman friend. We met him at the end of the pier at 7am, where we all jumped onto his fishing boat in between the big rolling waves coming in, and settled in for a classic Peruvian fishing experience. Tulio, his two sons, and his brother Jorge were with us on the boat and they told us about the generations of fishermen that have fished in this area, and passed down their knowledge and techniques through their families that still fish here today.

Tulio (right) and his brother Jorge teaching us to fish!

We took a forty minute boat ride through the oil platforms out to a reef, and then we dropped anchor and learned how to fish like a Peruvian. Each of us was given a thick plastic fishing line (no rod) that split three ways at the end; two had hooks on them, and one had a metal weight. The fishermen baited the hooks, and we would toss the line over the edge of the boat, letting it sink until the weight reached the bottom. Then we would hold the line in our hands and wait to feel a pull or wiggle or other sign that we had hooked a fish (it was really hard to tell), and then we pulled the line up to see what we got! Ale was the first to catch something, which ended up being a sea serpent that Tulio stunned before he tossed it back in the water. He caught a couple more small fish, but none big enough to keep. Javi and Dion both got seasick pretty fast, so the boys did most of the fishing for them, but they only caught one fish big enough to keep. I ended up getting lucky and catching four keepers!

My first fish!

Once we were done fishing, we pulled up the anchor and started heading home while Tulio prepared super-fresh ceviche for us with the fish that we caught. We had a snack of ceviche (complete with the onions and lemon) and plantain chips for the ride home, which mostly Ale and I ate (vegan or not, I couldn’t pass up ceviche that fresh), because Dion and Javi were still feeling sick. We made it back to land and thanked Tulio and his family for the experience, and they gave us the fish we didn’t eat to bring back to the house for lunch the next day. It was a fun morning!

Yum, ceviche doesn't get any fresher than this!

That night we watched the sunset from La Punta, where there are a bunch of big rock formations that form a point (and great surf waves!) and watched Gino, one of the local surfers, surf one of the most dangerous waves in Lobitos, El Hueco. It was crazy to watch.

Other than that, I saw and held a stick bug that we saw while painting the distiller, there were two blackouts (one on Wednesday night and one Sunday morning), and we went back to Tranqui’s for dinner on Sunday and Thursday, where Henry, a local guy (and also an insanely good surfer) who works for Waves for Development (the other non-profit in town) and one of his volunteers met us to eat.

Sunset over Lobitos from the water tower

There’s this week’s update! Sorry for the late post; I was really busy with work this week and forgot to start writing this post early enough on Friday, and I was gone most of the day yesterday (I’ll include that adventure in next week’s post!). I’m still having a ton of fun and learning a lot! Feel free to ask any questions :) Love and miss you all!

#EcoSwell #summer2018 #Peru #Lobitos

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cutsdatflo · 7 years ago

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We spoke with Mike Pappa, a rising filmmaker and previous collaborator at CUTSDATFLO. Now based in LA, he crafts beautifully epic films, such as his recent sci-fi short, A Crimson Man.

Mike’s unique history in video game design, led him to working in visual effects and production design, and ultimately directing. He previously wrote and directed acclaimed short film, Frankie.

Check out our interview below, which details his love of process & storytelling throughout the making of A Crimson Man.

What’s the inspiration behind A Crimson Man?

The inspiration was the worlds from Philip K. Dick stories, PTSD accounts from veterans, and the childlike wonder and curiosity that a young protagonist brings to the sci-fi/fantasy genre. And naturally, films I had watched growing up that hold a special place in my heart: E.T., The Iron Giant, The Never Ending Story, Time Bandits, Star Wars, The Empire of the Sun and so on. I grew up as a military brat so I related to a lot to these characters' sense of awe and wonder of discovering new fantastical friends and exploring mythical and often dangerous worlds that the filmmakers had created.

In terms of writing the lead as an Asian kid, that was because of my three young nephews who are mixed-race. I wanted them to see themselves up on the big screen. That, and there's a lack of Asians leads in American sci-fi films. Regarding the character's personalities, there's always a bit of the writer in them, no?

What was the seemingly massive post-production like, and did it influence the way you shot?

The biggest influence post had on production was in scouting for exterior locations. We couldn't afford to shoot on an actual pier, a boat, or some super remote foothill. So, pulling from our bag of tricks, we chose locations that multiple scenes could be set in, would work for the planned set extensions/matte backgrounds, and we could turn the camera around to get plates of landscape and atmosphere. Basically getting the biggest bang for your buck.

When it came to VFX, the original plan was for me not to handle a majority of it. However, due to budget and schedule, I ended up taking on 75% of the 125 shots myself. And there were new challenges for me as a VFX artist; creating and compositing massive set extensions into footage shot with anamorphic lenses. These shots had to look believable. No exceptions. But, there was a point where I had to accept I'm just not skilled enough to make the shots look any more realistic. I mean, this is why you always hire people who can do the thing better than you can do the thing. So, it was definitely one of the hardest things I had ever done on a film -- but, I had wonderful guidance from VFX Consultant Nitant Karnik and help from CG Artist Jordan Sariego & Roto Artist Andy Rajput.

When it came time to do our color correction, we were lucky to do it at Company 3 and with a very talented colorist, Bryan Smaller. So, for each scene, you discuss color and mood. But, I was also breathing a sigh of relief every time a VFX shot passed "the test." Wearing VFX and Director hats became stressful. Anyone that's worked on low-budget and indie films, especially as a director, knows wearing many hats is just part of the deal. Just wasn't very fun.

Like most projects I have worked on, post influences a lot of the production. My traditional animation and production designer background shines through here. When you have a child actor, a practical robot suit, a night fight scene, and mostly exterior locations, everything must be planned to a T. I storyboarded scenes, created animatics, mocked up VFX shots, we had stunt rehearsals, and of course the expected planning of camera setups. On set, there was always storyboards displayed on foamcore so that all departments could be on the same page. The cast and crew could focus more on performances and now be a little more prepared for any unseen challenges and hiccups that always occur on the day. It was a very ambitious five-day shoot, to say the least -- but with the guidance and diligence of Producers Jordan Lietz & Tracy Wu and AD Dan Hartney, we got through it.

The lead was played by a child actor - did this change the logistics of the shoot?

Shooting with Maddox Henry (Wei) was a great experience. Having a practical fx robot on set was rewarding. Maddox and Dan Clarkson (Red) played off each other well. My only regret was not having more scenes with Maddox, Dan, and Craig Stark (Bunker Sentry). The three of them worked extremely well together and each brought some good ideas to the table. I've been on many sets with child actors before -- but, always as a Production Designer. A mixture of good and bad experiences. So, Crimson Man was my first time directing a kid actor. Plus, he's with a 7ft robot in every scene. I was very nervous, scared even. Thankfully, the aforementioned planning allowed me to concentrate more on the performances on set.

Logistically, the hardest challenge was the limited hours with Maddox. The whole when they're allowed to work vs. being with the teacher ordeal. The clock is always ticking! This led to having to make many compromises in the script, to the schedule, and often on the day. But again, the extensive planning, as well as me knowing what I wanted and needed to get, allowed the crew to handle these challenges and lessen the blow some.

You originally come from the gaming industry. How does this influence your filmmaking?

I was an Art Director at video game company for 5 years. As mentioned above, my background is film & traditional animation. Storyboards and animatics have been forever embedded in my brain. Plan, plan, plan! I would also add that in animation you have to do your own performances, layouts & design -- these all come out when working on a film.

In terms of video games, I worked at a company in NYC where I managed two art departments in our Canadian offices as well as any outsourcing companies we hired. These experiences taught me three very important things: hire people that can do the thing better than you, learn the ins and outs of other departments, and be able to give very precise and clear notes. Maybe a film's post-production is the closest to video games. You have similar things like pipelines for creating assets, computer graphics work, etc.

There’s an emphasis on the sweeping landscape in A Crimson Man. How important is the visual landscape ultimately when originating an idea?

Most definitely the variety and color palette of the southern California landscape has influenced me and the film's setting. However, it's also a combination of taking advantage of the landscapes' accessibility/closeness to me and to create a look & feel similar to the adventure films I grew up on. Whereas Frankie was shot where I lived at the time. Hoboken, NJ. This was my frame of mind. I think the visual landscape is paramount to a film's design. To me, it's no different than approaching it like you would design and fabricate a set. I wouldn't go as far as to say it's a character in a film, but in rare cases, it can almost feel that way due to the obstacles it may throw in front of a character.

What happens now? Are you developing this project?

Find a job, ha! I'm half joking. Well, just like the millions of other filmmakers in this industry, I'm working toward developing this short into a feature. A Crimson Man was first written as a feature. Then, I took a small section of the story and created the short. After I finished the short, I begun creating more assets for a pitch package, as well as taking all the things I had learned from the short and then rewriting the feature. Now it's all about getting this package in front of the right people. I have also been writing new scripts. Always be creating!

A dense, final question -- what's the point? Of filmmaking, telling stories, seeing these ideas through?

The point is a selfish one. If I don't get these stories and ideas out of my head and onto the screen, then I feel my brain will eventually explode Scanners-style. Cause otherwise, what was the point of all this madness? I love making movies. Love it. Creating art for people to watch and hopefully enjoy -- well, that's what it's all about. And without the support of family and friends -- especially from my very, very patient wife (Kate, I love you) -- I wouldn't have even got to make A Crimson Man.

However, I tend to create ambitious stories. I'm well aware it's not a wise thing to do. I'm trying to get better at this. But, it's hard for me to write the two-people-in-a-room-story. My mind starts wondering what or who else is in there. Was time-travel involved? Wouldn't it be fun if it was set in 1898? Why yes, this needs a goblin! I just can't do simple. Whether this is me wanting to increase my odds of creating something more interesting or making up for my lack of writing experience, I'm not sure. And don't get me wrong, I love watching the two-people-in-a-room movies. Some of my favorite films are like this. But then again, maybe not simple is me. My voice. A part of me always feels if I am gonna spend all of this time, money, as well as other peoples time & favors, then why not go big?

#filmmaker #filmmaking #bts #behind the scenes #la #sci fi #sci fi film #short film #film festival

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nomanicsdak · 5 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://manicdak.com/oh-balls/

Oh, Balls!

aN OILY ESCORT MISSION

So, we are back to escorting Testikles to the Olympics, and he is wherever the fuck he is on some Hades forsaken island in an uncovered part of the map. Like, yo, game—I don’t want to uncover another part of the map yet along with all its fetch quests and forts to defeat or whatever, because you know I will be compelled to do so. I guess I must though. I will try to power through without getting too distracted.

First I have to get some oil though.

Only the Oil maker’s slave lady is there though, and she is frightened that his wrath will come down on her if she dares help me by—giving me oil that I am going to pay for? Does this dude want business or not?? This guy already sucks, if I ever meet him… I convince her to just sell me the recipe and I make it myself—hopefully the right way. Which seems way worse for business than just selling me the oil. Oh, well. I succeed in remembering the recipe, and now I have to find Testikles on his island. I once again misread the map and also just guess at where he’s supposed to be instead of going directly to the clearly labeled point on the map. *shrug*

SNAKE SHIP!!

Ssssssssssssssssssssss!

This time it pays off though, because I find a sunken temple and it’s one of the locations of the treasure feathers! I’m sure stumbling ass backwards into them is how I’m going to solve this quest. It is the best way, I think. I also find some gold colours for my boat! The look I find is called the Hound of Hades. I like a Cerberus themed boat! Since I’m heading for the bay of Hades anyway, I think it’s fitting.

I’ll miss my pink and white boat though!

Before I talk to Testikles, I take the time to explore the nearby shipwreck of the Nestor. I find a new figurehead for my ship. It’s a serpent one, and although I already have a blue one and this is just a normal, I switch them out, because snakes are my jam.

TESTIKLES

The Man, The Legend–

So, there is also some treasure chest that is either underwater or underground, but I don’t see a cave entrance? I try to find it, but I can’t, so I just go talk to Testikles, who is flexing and carrying on about being the best. He may or may not be super drunk or super dumb or both. Who can say?

I have to convince him to get on the boat by giving him the oil now, or bribing him with it. I still feel kind of bad for leaving those Spartan kids to spar with wolves on their own a while back, so maybe I’ll just give it to him and not become an extortionist.

Great, he wants me to rub it on. What did I tell you about oil? We’re off on our escort mission now though, because I don’t get a choice in whether or not to oil down the big guy. Alexios is not gonna do it!

SHARK BAIT

Ahoy, Ace, why are you here?

Back on the boat, Barny is fanboying over Testikles and Herodotus recites poetry at him. We arrive at our destination with the man of the hour whooping about Sparta, which is about the extent of this guy’s discourse, and for some reason I have to talk to Alkibiades who is here too. I’m going to guess he wants me to somehow throw the games in Athen’s favour in direct contradiction to what I should be doing to prove my Spartanness?

Let’s find out! He’s enthusiastically jumping up and down and clapping at me.

If your wondering why he is here, it is to welcome us, actually compete in the Olympics, and flirt shamelessly, of course. Testikles burps in his direction. Herodotus and Barnabus share a confused look.

There’s some good natured ribbing and more sex puns made even more inappropriate by the peanut gallery watching behind me. Huh. Nobody’s asking me to do anything I don’t want to do yet— I’m feeling good about this cut scene for a few seconds until I duck out of Testikles’s grasp as he wants me to oil him up again and he falls off the dock and gets eaten by a shark.

I just—I die laughing at this point, because that’s the most absurd thing that has happened in this game so far. Will I have to step in for Sparta now? Alikbiades is definitely interested in seeing Alexios compete anyway. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more. He gives me the nickname “Lexie”, so how can I say no? I probably can’t. *shrug*

QUEST TIME!

We get the day off to explore around Olympia though, so that’s cool, let’s do that. I very nearly knock Barnabus off the shark pier on my way out the door to the nearest location. Sorry, my man!

I spend most of my time trying to defeat this huge ass fort and failing. I only get lucky because some bounty hunters show up and they start fighting the guys in the fort, so I can finally get it done. I’m a bit irritated that it took so long, so I just get back on my sudden quest for Olympic gold. I have to go find the organizer for this, I suppose to inform him that our contestant got eaten by a shark. *shrug* It happens?

I wander around Elis for a while, wreaking havoc on the Athenian forces. When I finally get to the actual Olympic Valley, I’m notified that I shouldn’t get caught doing anything illegal there. Great. We all know how good I am at sneaking and not doing illegal things. There are a bunch of new quests here that I can do before we get back to the story too, so let’s see who wants me to commit crimes so they don’t have to!

JUMPIN’ JAVELINS

First a sad bookie.

He’s sad because some dude named Pithekos is not on his game and it’ll cost him a lot of money if this guy loses (I hope he’s not in my event?) In any case I can offer to maim his opponent or cheer his spirits. Obviously, I’m not going to maim a guy undeservedly. The bookie isn’t keen on my plan to recite poetry at the guy. Since Pithekos is not the kind of man for poems, I just go talk to him.

Okay, he’s broken his “lucky” javelin. I attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he just straight up admits to cheating. Like, I know I’m not suited up to the nines in the gear of my homelands, but that’s probably not the info you should just be imparting to rando-could-be-your-opponent-Spartans. Of course, I guess I’ll get him his javelin. Hopefully I won’t end up in jail.

I can steal it, which is probably the wrong choice, so I just talk to the vendor lady and buy one. There is also an old one in a corner. I bring both and I don’t get a choice on which to give him, so I guess I chose right by bringing both. The bookie offers to let me place a bet, but I decline to bet on the cheater.

SEEING THE SIGHTS

My next exclamation points leads me right to Barnabus who is being a total tourist. Lol, what is this quest, just sightseeing with Barny? I mean—Okay, I’ll take the easy XPs Why do you keep trying to make me learn stuff, game?

Zeus Beef in the wings

First: Altar of Zeus where we see them slaughtering a bunch of bulls for him. I buy Barnabus a slice of Zeus beef. He is delighted! Then we’re off to the next sight. The organizer for the event I’m supposed to be competing in must be around here because I keep being alerted to an untracked quest nearby, but I’m going to finish what I’m doing first.

Over in the temple Barnabus tells me the statue of Zeus was crafted by a sculptor I’m supposedly friends with, but I don’t know the name. Is he the dude I saved way back when I first came to Athens? Alexios says something sarcastic about the Gods that gets Barnabus’s dander up. I choose apologies. I don’t need to rain on his parade when he’s being such a fanboy and having a great day.

DISTRACTIONS

On the way to our next destination, I pick up another quest: Herodotus is trying to keep the peace, because I assume a Spartan and an Athenian are fixin to throw punches and break this Olympic truce. (One is wearing red, and one is wearing blue, so I can only assume. I remain, ever and always in neutral snake-tones) I agree to help them.

some dude

Back to Barny…or not. I stop again for a quest. A guy wants to tell my fortune, but it’s all a ruse to steal my money. He distracts me while a little girl steals my purse! She reminds Alexios of Phoibe and now everybody is sad. I’m even more sad when she tells me her story…some Captain made her thieve and is going to hurt her apparently. Obviously, I am going to help the girl that reminds me of Phoibe. The Captain is going dowwwn!

He goes down! I return to the kid to give her the necklace Captain stole and she’s happy that they can keep all they steal now. Heh. Go get ‘em, girl!

I finally catch up to Barnabus where he gives me the low-down on this special tree that the Olympic wreaths are made out of. We hug it out and I get my XPs! Thanks, Barny!

On to the next mini-quest!

A TALE OF OILY DUDES

Out on the street a poor woman is being browbeat in public by a priestess. Her crime: Being married and wanting to watch the games.

She is Kallipateria who wants to see her son compete. This is nonsense. Why is it a crime, I ask?

The priestess tells me its because all the oily men will be too tempting.

Uhh— Well, my only choice now is to say that’s not fair, which it’s not, so I’m not fussed about that pathway.

Turns out the punishment they want to dole out for attempting to watch the games is to throw her off Mount Olympus. The fuck???? That’s the punishment??? Priestess Lady, you’re going the way of Chrysis if you keep it up. She gives me the chance to prove Kallipateria’s heritage and save her, so I’m off to go look for her son in the green room as it were.

There’s a old lady there projecting her own thoughts onto every other woman in Greece. She’s clutching her pearls over all the hot oiled dudes. Yes, of course, because there is no other reason for women to enjoy sport, but also, who cares if she wants to scope some dudes? The only useful clue is that Kalli met with a man here often. Like…is the man her son?? The next person I talk to is her son. He confirms her story.

However, I also find a love letter seemingly addressed to her.

The plot thickens.

Regardless, nobody needs to be thrown off a mountain. Unless it’s me, throwing myself. I’m immune to fall damage after all.

Next a rando dude confirms her story and also—that her husband is dead???? What? Widowers got to stay married from beyond the grave here? I guess so. Kalli is still devoted and makes offers to the Gods for him. I find yet another letter confirming the story of Kalli’s son and their heritage. Time to stop this priestess and her hateboner for people who enjoy a nice oily dude. I guess what I find is enough for her to let Kalli go. Good. Damn her for making me schlep all the way the hell up this mountain though. I’m going to jump off it!

LOVE GONE WRONG

Alright, time to help out those fighty dudes from earlier. This quest is called the Drachmae of Romance, so let us see what this is all about. I find a note. Looks like a couple of lovebirds stole money from the fighting dudes to escape—something. Slavery? Crushing debt?

Next I find a really suspicious guard who is terrible at lying. He fell asleep on the job, but he does know the thieves headed east apparently.

Third clue—no forced entry to the treasure vault the guard was supposed to be guarding. Hmm.

Well, the game tells me exactly where to go, so at least I don’t have to wander Eastward with nothing but hope and a bird to go on.

It turns out this a Romeo and Juliet situation and the couple that stole the money are the son and daughter of the dudes that hired me. Those two dads also got the info from the guard and find us here. There is no conflict resolution for them. In fact, they are ready to kill their children over this feud. I got news for ya, dudes. You picked the wrong mysthios. I can either kill the poor kids or these two toolbags.

The good news is that the kids can forge a new peaceful future for their families now. A job well done as far as I’m concerned!

SCULPTING SUSPICIONS

My next and looks like last quest is to visit my sculptor friend. He is indeed the man who I saved from cultists. He does think cultists are still after him and for some reason did him the courtesy of leaving a coded message before they do away with him that I now have to traipse around all of Greece to figure out for him. I’m not going to do that right now because these statues with secret code are all over places that haven’t been uncovered yet. Sorry, Sculpto, you must wait!

Paranoid Sculptor Friend

I think it is time for some wrasslin’ or whatever the hell I’m competing in (The Pankration) because I am fresh out of exclamation points! I arrive at the organizer and he’s surprised to see me instead of Testikles. He lets me go ahead and replace the poor guy rather than cancel the whole event. Since I have nothing left to do, we’ll get right to it. I beat up a couple of dudes and now we get a pause before the big match against the Athenian champ. It is a break where we meet up with Barny and Alkibiades only to find Alkibiades has probably been poisoned. Damn! You can’t die yet, Ace! It’s not in the history books! (I know, I know, tell it to Perikles, right?) I am off to find the supposed poisoner!

PICK YOUR POISON

Somehow, Alkibiades of all the people, is super scandalized about how his upstanding good-time drinkin’ buddies could be shady double-dealing murderers. Sorry, my dude! Suddenly, my pause screen jumps out at me without prompting to give me some news. Kallias, Olympic hero, is now marked on my cult family tree. Does that have anything to do with this quest? Is HE the poisoner?

Let us investigate!

Clue #1: I visit the site of the party and, Yep. Poison. Lots of the party-goers are dead now.

Clue#2: More poison supplies in the kitchen. I find the name of the merchant who delivered them.

Clue#3: There is a bigger bad. Who is it? The merchant doesn’t know, but at least he gives me a place where I can find the antidote: That accursed fort from earlier? Nope, a new accursed fort. Probably at the only undiscovered location left in the Olympic Valley. Let’s Ride, Phobos! No time to lose! I am in and out without the guards catching me, and Alkibiades is up and at ’em as soon as the cure touches his lips.

A WIN FOR SPARTA

Now it’s time to finish wining the day for Sparta and defeating a cultist. Like—we know it’s him what ordered the poison, right? It has to be?

Back to the organizer, who laughs at me for not being oily enough. Heh. I’ve got some delightful cinnamon oil that I made myself, dude. I take this guys advice and use it. Why not? Testikles doesn’t need it. I have a tense moment with Kallias the cultist before things start, and I defeat the champion handily. Alexios looks extra shiny during the crowning, but whatevs. We won!

Oily, Oily, Glory

Next on the list: Cult dude, who I find just wandering outside the hippodrome alone. I sneak up on him and that’s the easiest cultist defeat ever.

Olympia is complete! I guess. I don’t even get to say goodbye to Ace this time, or find out for sure who the poisoner is. Bah.

Oh, well. I’m heading of to Boeotia now, because A: I have a king quest there and B: I have some mysterious Sphynx quest that I don’t even remember picking up, and we all know how I feel about Sphynx quests! (I love them. Hit me with your riddles, cat woman!)

#assassin's creed #odyssey #Assassin's Creed #Games #Odyssey

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travelingtheusa · 6 years ago

Text

NORTH CAROLINA

5 Dec 2019 (Thu) – We drove into Wilmington today. It was about an hour away. First stop was at the Bellamy Mansion. A doctor lived there with his wife and nine children. It was a beautiful building. An unusual aspect was that the dining room was in the basement. The main floor had four parlor rooms. Upstairs had many rooms; presumably bedrooms for all the kids and their nine slaves. The mansion had four floors. The docent who took us on a tour was very chatty and he knew so much about the family and the time period. It was a very interesting visit.

Next stop was at Front Street Brewery. We enjoyed a nice meal and Paul had a flight of six beers to sample. We walked around the neighborhood for a bit. There were many antebellum homes. The area was very beautiful. The main road had dozens of houses lining the roadway; each with a plaque describing its date of construction and who lived there.

After lunch and the local tour, we drove to the Railroad Museum. It was mostly a model train center. After admiring all the little trains and towns, we climbed up onto a caboose, a train engine, and a box car decorated with hobos.

When we got back, we gathered up information about the SMART club and went over to talk with another camper. He and his wife were interested in hearing about the club. Another woman was visiting and joined in the conversation, too. A man came running over, grabbed a brochure, thanked us, and ran back to his rig. That was very funny.

4 Dec 2019 (Wed) – We drove to the North Carolina Aquarium this morning. Their roof was undergoing repair from the recent hurricane. When we first arrived, we saw a lone construction guy up on the very high peak. Not only did it look lonely, it looked very dangerous. He was on a glass roof that was over the reptile area that included a 15 foot albino alligator. Talk about dangerous jobs!!!

We spent about an hour in the aquarium. It was small and half of it wasn’t accessible because of the roof damage. There was nothing we hadn’t seen somewhere else.

Lunch was at Jack Makerel’s Restaurant. It was a pub located in a lovely old building. The food was good and they had a flight of beers that Paul thoroughly enjoyed.

After lunch, we went to Fort Fisher Historical Site. There was a battle there during the Civil War. It was gruesome! The battle lasted more than two days. There were 1,400 North Carolinians and 300 south Carolinans who held off 10,000 northern forces for 58 hours. The battle raged on and at the end, everyone was reduced to clubbing each other in hand-to-hand combat. When Fort Fisher finally fell to overwhelming forces in January 1865, it marked the beginning of the end. Robert E. Lee surrendered in April 1865. Today, many of the redans are still in place. A replica of a large canon sits inside a small fenced area. Across the street stands a tall monument in tribute to the men who died during the battle.

3 Dec 2019 (Tue) – The weather cleared up and while it is still cool in the low 50s, at least the rain stopped. We pulled up stakes and headed out to Fort Fisher Air Force Recreation Area Campground at 9:30 am. It is a National Guard Training Base with a campground. There is no gate and no base facilities. They do have a swimming pool that is closed for the season. The area suffered damage from Hurricane Dorian in September and there is a lot of repair work in progress. There was a crew putting a new roof on the registration office.

This is a very nice beach town. There are rows of pastel colored three-story homes, many with signs offering the house for rent. Most of the buildings are empty as this is not the popular season. We are on a narrow island with the Atlantic Ocean on one side and a bay on the other. We walked out onto the Kure Beach Pier. There were dozens of birds looking for goodies from the many fishermen on the pier. One guy had just caught a blowfish and was throwing it back in. He said he was trying to catch trout or whiting. The stretch of beach on either side of the pier reminded me of California.

We went to dinner at Fred’s Italian Restaurant. It was a cute little place and was about half full. Paul had pork chops, baked potato, and applesauce. I had shrimp scampi. While Paul was happy with his meal, I didn’t like mine. The appetizer (crab dip) had too much parmesan in it. The bread dip was more vinegar than oil. My shrimp was tough and chewy. The angel hair pasta was bland. My sangria was too dry. All in all, I did not enjoy the meal. Except for the company. He was perfect! And the ambiance was nice, too. :-)

2 Dec 2019 (Mon) – We went for a walk down by the water yesterday. The marina was very quiet – no cars, no planes, no people. It was very peaceful. While we were looking out over the water, a fish broke out of the water. It turned out to be two dolphins swimming by. One was larger than the other so we thought it was a mother and child making their way up the river. The sighting was a delightful treat!

While I did some baking this morning, Paul did the laundry. They have a small set up here in the campground with two washers and three dryers.

1 Dec 2019 (Sun) – It rained all night. At least it wasn’t noisy like our popup used to be. When it rained in that one, it sounded like popcorn popping. It was raining when we got up and rained on and off all day today.

We left at 11:30 a.m. and drove around the base, exploring the area. This is a very large base with lots of amenities. They have a golf course, a yacht club, two marinas, a couple of recreation areas, lounges, a movie theater, and a large housing complex. They rent out campers and boats to the marines on base.

After checking out the base, we drove toward Beaufort. On the way, we stopped for lunch at a restaurant called Smithfield’s Chicken BBQ. It was kind of like a McDonald’s. You walked up to a counter with the menu overhead behind the counter. You gave your order and got a number then took a seat. When your food was ready, a waitress brought it out to your table. While we were eating, wait staff came by offering to clear away garbage and offering refills on our drinks (very UNLIKE McDonald’s). The food was pretty good.

When done, we continued on to Beaufort to the North Carolina Maritime Museum. A great deal of the museum was dedicated to the story of pirates in general, and Blackbeard in particular. Queen Ann’s Revenge, Blackbeard’s flagship, was found sunk a half mile off the coast here in North Carolina. They had artifacts from the ship and detailed stories of the ship’s plunder. After going through the museum, we went across the street to the Watercraft Center where a lone volunteer was working on a project. We got to talking to him and he regaled us with details of the boats they make there. It was very interesting.

On the way back to the base, we stopped at a Food Lion to pick up groceries and Pet Smart to get food for Bonnie and Sheba.

30 Nov 2019 (Sat) – We went to the Galley for breakfast again today. We were the only people in there for about 20 minutes then four Coast Guardsmen came in. The cafeteria has never been very full each time we have been in there.

After breakfast, we finished packing up and left the base. It rained most of the drive to the Cherry Point MCAS (Marine Corps Air Station) in Havelock. The office was closed but a packet was sitting outside with paperwork for us. After we set up, we settled in and just watched TV for the afternoon. I just couldn’t get warm.

After feeding the animals, we went out for dinner to a Mexican restaurant. The food was very good. The margaritas were listed on the menu as small, large, monster, and pitcher. Paul got the monster and I got the large. They were VERY filling!

When finished, we drove back on the base to the shopping complex looking for the package store. While there were several stores in the complex, there was no liquor shop. We drove a block down the road to the gas station figuring that they might have wine and liquor in there like they do on other bases. Sure enough, they did and we picked up some drinks.

During the drive from Elizabeth City to Havelock, we passed many small and run down homes. There were also lots of trailers along the way, too. Based on all those homes, we think this is a pretty poor state.

29 Nov 2019 (Fri) – We got up early and went to the Galley for breakfast. The choices were pretty good: scrambled or hard boiled eggs, sausage (it was cold), ham, diced potatoes, and pancakes. There was a waffle maker on the counter but no batter. You could toast bread or bagels. The coffee was like flavored dishwater. Ugh. The cost was even better: $7.50 for both of us! This is pretty good cost-wise.

After breakfast, we drove to the Outer Banks. First stop was at the visitor’s center to get another map. They also had a centennial memorial to flight next to the center. Starting with the first flight by the Wright Brothers in 1903, there were several columns in an oval, each listing several aviation firsts, and ending with 2003. It was interesting to see how far we have come in one hundred years.

We drove more than two hours to the end of Pea Island to Hatteras. There was a great looking museum – “Graveyard of the Atlantic” – that was closed. That was very disappointing. We parked and walked out to the seashore. There were many vehicles parked on the beach and it seemed like there was a fishing competition going on. People were standing on the beach casting lines into the crashing waves. There were several commercial boats fishing out in the ocean. One particular boat had hundreds of birds flying around it. We figured they were probably fileting their catch and the birds were looking for scraps. Paul got pictures of pelicans flying by. We stood on the beach and watched everything for a while then left.

We then stopped at the Cape Hatteras Light Station. The museum was also closed (bummer). You could buy a ticket to climb the 210 foot tall lighthouse but we did not. It looked like it was the same height as the Fire Island Lighthouse but when we checked it online, it turned out it was only 167 feet. Significantly smaller than the Cape Hatteras station.

Lunch was at the Buxton Munch. It was a very small restaurant but very busy. It was rated number one of 48 in Buxton. We both had crab cake sandwiches which were OK but not as good as the crab cakes we had the other day.

After we got back, fed the animals, and walked Bonnie, we went to dinner at the Galley. They had the typical choices: two proteins (hot dogs or chicken breast), one starch (rice), two vegetables (peas or collards), and hush puppies (I’m not sure what they are). The mess hall closed at 5:45 p.m. and although we were still eating, they shut all the TVs off promptly at 5:45. They were in a hurry to get home! It was clear that it was time to leave.

28 Nov 2019 (Thu – Thanksgiving Day) – Since it was a holiday, we assumed everything was closed and just stayed around the campground today. At 5 p.m., we went to the Coast Guard Galley (cafeteria) for dinner. They had turkey and ham, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, corn bread, salad fixings, soup, and various cakes and pies for dessert. Most of it was canned; not fresh made. Oh well. It was holiday meal. And it only cost us $7.70 each ($15.40). What a deal!!

27 Nov 2019 (Wed) –We were planning on leaving Friday, November 29, for southern North Carolina. Unfortunately, the camp host said they did not have anything on that day but the next day was open. So we changed our departure date to the 30th, meaning we could go back to Cape Hatteras the day after Thanksgiving.

We went to the Museum of the Albemarle this morning. It was a nice museum but all reading. They divided the history of the area by eras – the Railroad Era, the Automotive Era, etc. It was a little confusing.

We went to the movies tonight and saw “Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood.” It was not what I expected. Rather than being a movie about the life of Mr. Rogers, it told the story of a conflicted news reporter who was affected by Mr. Rogers. Tom Hanks was good, as always, but I don’t think I really cared for the movie.

26 Nov 2019 (Tue) – What a great day we had today. First, we drove to the Wright Brothers National Memorial at Kitty Hawk. There was a visitor’s center with a small display area telling the basic story of the Wright Brothers’ lives and accomplishments. Out in the open field, there was a stone marker commemorating the 25th anniversary of the first manned flight. There were also four markers, each for their successive flights on December 17, 1903. The first attempt failed. The second try lasted 12 seconds. The third was also 12 seconds long; the fourth was 15 seconds; and the last, and most famous, lasted 59 seconds. There was a young boy at the field on that day. He was 8 years old and had skipped school to watch the planned flight. He lived to see man land on the moon 66 years later. Wasn’t that amazing?!?!? It is so incredible how far we went from those early flight experiments.

There was a large monument up on a hill. That was where the brothers flew their gliders from. They set many records for gliding. Down on the walk was a picture commemorating the 25th anniversary celebration. In it were Orville Wright and Amelia Earhart. It gave me chills.

When we left the Wright Brothers memorial, we drove down the main road on the Outer Banks until we came to a local brewery where we stopped for lunch. Paul did a beer flight and I had a glass of wine. The food was pub fare – good but nothing to write home about.

After lunch, we continued down the main drag to the Fort Raleigh National Historic Site. This was the site of the Lost Colony. In 1581, explorers from England arrived on Roanoke Island. They befriended the natives and explored the area then returned to England. They came back the following year and left again. In 1984, a group of 115 people arrived from England planning to colonize the area. When winter came, they were starving and in need of many things. Captain John Raleigh was convinced to return to England to get supplies for the colony. When he got home, he found England at war with France. He was not able to get a boat or provisions to take back to the colony for three years. When he was able to return to the colony in 1987, there was no sign of the colony. Everyone was gone. No one has ever been able to figure out what happened to the colonists.

25 Nov 2019 (Mon) – We left Fort Belvoir, VA at a little after 9 a.m. It was a 3 hour drive to Coast Guard Base Elizabeth. Signage on base was poor and the camp area was hard to find. We only have 30 amp hookup. The camp area is in a small circle on a corner. The other, 50 amp, area is nicer. Maybe next time.

We explored the base. It is a small training base. There is a Galley (dining hall) that we can eat at because I am retired. We walked over and looked over the menu. I think we will probably eat Thanksgiving dinner there.

The Base Exchange was nice and we picked up a couple of bottles of wine.

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hetmusic · 9 years ago

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HumanHuman meets Daisy Digital

For our second “HumanHuman meets…” interview series with some of our most influential users, we’re kicking things off with self-proclaimed multi-tasker Hannah Braid, AKA Daisy Digital. She joined our music-mad community two years ago as a blogger, and since then she’s gone on to become a festival organiser, co-founder of Swell Publicity and most recently she joined the team over at Chalk Press Agency.

Meeting on the first day of The Great Escape, we braced ourselves against the blustery weather out on Brighton Pier for a good chat about finding new talent, working in the industry and what Hannah Braid would do if she was in charge of a certain UK festival.

For the readers of HumanHuman, tell me who are you and what you do?

I run Daisy Digital, I also work in PR. I guess mainly for the HumanHuman readers, I am a blog! Well, the face behind a blog.

When did you first hear about HumanHuman?

I’ve been on it for a little while as Daisy Digital. We did some cool stuff for International Women’s Day last year. I think it’s a really cool concept, predominantly for blogs, but I was talking to a manager of an artist before and he was talking about the concept of HumanHuman and how when he first heard about it, he signed up and said “oh, it’s really cool!”

Oh, who was that?

It was Toothless’ manager; he was asking about it and seeing what it’s about. I think it’s great to see bloggers, but also influential people going on it and tipping each other.

Obviously, it’s all about discovering new music, so which discovery are you most proud of to date?

I think Billie Marten, probably. I heard about her through a friend of mine and she said “you should come down and check her out.” I was worried that this 12-year-old girl was going to be really X-Factor and I would hate it, but within minutes of her playing live I just fell in love. I thought, “this is going to be massive!” It was only quite recently that we became a working relationship, so it’s really nice for Daisy Digital to have been there from the start. When it gets to the level where I feel like I can really help an artist on a personal, but also work, relationship basis, it’s really nice to be able to do that. That’s the great thing about having a blog and being in the industry is that I still really like that discovery element. Within the industry we get offered a lot of stuff and we have to turn down stuff, and there might be times when that’s because it’s not the right level for us, but Daisy Digital means having a place where I can say “well, actually I can still do something for you.” There’s been several artists that I’ve watched grow from really early on, like this guy from Australia called Jesse Davidson. I did loads of stuff with him on my blog and when it got to the point where I really wanted to help him on a professional level he had signed a massive deal and I missed out! Artists like The Staves and Michael Kiwanuka were featured on the blog in 2012 before I got into music as a job, and now they're on our roster here at Chalk Press. It’s a weird, but wonderful thing.

A lot of people do take that route though, through blogs and onto PR.

Yeah! What people don’t really realise is that sometimes we’re doing this on our own, and lots of bloggers are doing it as a part-time hobby. Whether it becomes a full-time job or not, to have that creative outlet, where you can talk about those things that aren’t necessarily in your job, but relate in some way. It’s also really important to be listening to new stuff all the time, not just your own music. Having gone from architecture to music is a rather strange, although as I was saying quite wonderful, path to take. It’s only through the blogs that I’ve been able to do that.

You started the blog when you were at university?

Yeah, it was when I was in my final weeks of doing an architecture degree, which was probably the worst and best decision of my life. I had loads going through my head and I was trying to focus on my studies, having no sleep and living off caffeine for a long time. When you’re doing a degree like architecture, you need that sanity in something else. At the time I was listening to Lianne La Havas, Daughter, Lucy Rose, The Staves - when they were tiny. I went to see The Staves supporting Michael Kiwanuka in 2011/2012, and I ended up staying at the end and chatting to them, and I thought “actually, this is bloody cool!” It was this thing that never happens when you’re doing architecture. Everyone was like “you’re crazy!” and “what the hell are you doing?!” Then it became something that I couldn’t not do. When I finished my degree, I had a three month break where I did some behind-the-scenes work at festivals and kept Daisy Digital going. Having that outlet of a blog to be able to show my interest in music got me where I am. I have no musical ability at all!

So much of this industry is run on passion, especially when we’re talking about the love of discovering new music. Why do you think people are drawn to that?

When you have that connection with an artist, like I had with Billie Marten, it’s a rare thing, but it’s really amazing. You get to watch someone from really early on. They might not be completely pitch perfect or they might be really nervous on stage, but when you connect with them, you think “this is incredible, I can’t not do something to help this person!” If you really believe in them, I guess it’s something you can’t help but do! From a musician’s point of view, you have to remember the people who found you first and gave you that step up. On that level, lots of bloggers also go into A&R. It’s a really important cycle, to find new music and be part of the journey.

“It’s a really important cycle, to find new music and be part of the journey.”— Hannah Braid

A lot of that journey happens online now, like the HumanHuman community. Why do you think the discovery of new talent is happening more and more in the digital world, rather than coming to somewhere like a festival as an on-the-ground scout?

It’s so easy now. Lots of artists release their music online, which has it’s downfalls, but it’s also an amazing thing. For example, I was listening to an interview with Dua Lipa yesterday and she was saying that although she’s from Kosovo, she had an amazing upbringing where she was able to do music in London. However, if you’re from places like outside of the UK or US, those artists might not necessarily reach people like me or you if they do nothing online. There’s this whole online community that reaches thousands and thousands of fans. There’s plenty of downfalls, but you can’t argue with it. There is still an element of if I saw something here at The Great Escape that had no presence online I’m not going to say that I wouldn’t work with them. A happy medium is always good.

We spoke earlier about how you started your blog, Daisy Digital, and I saw that the Guardian described it as “a musical feast for lovers of all things indie and folk-related”. That was awesome, but is folk and indie still your primary interest?

Yeah, I think so… I’ll never shy too far away from the folk-indie scene, but I’m not going to bracket myself in and only work with folk and indie. I do listen to a lot of pop lately.

Anything in particular?

Well, you know, Taylor Swift is always amazing. [laughs] I think it’s really important to listen to a variety of music. I would never say that I’ll only get submitted folk and indie, I might not blog about anything else, but at least I like to be aware. Like I previously mentioned, Dua Lipa is bloody awesome!

Going back to your original genre, what has been your favourite folk/indie track of the year?

Oh, that’s a good one! For starters, the one I’ve probably listened to the most is Laura Marling’s “Ghosts”, but that was from her first record. I’ve always been a fan of hers, but I only saw her live late last year and I re-discovered her back catalogue. Going back to the point about the digital world - if twenty years ago you didn’t own a record, would you be able to go back and listen to an old album? It’s so easy now to re-discover works that you might have passed. This year though… what have I been listening to? The Staves have a new track called “Outlaw”, which I think is awesome. Hold on I’ll find something good for you [scrolls through phone] “New Ways” by Daughter!

Oh, I love that album!

Yeah, me too! I watched them before I was in music, I was a massive fan and I saw Eleanor support Ben Howard on her own - super early! The amazing thing is that I’ve been able to watch them from a very privileged view over the past couple of years. I’ve been at shows and I feel like I have better insight into them as a band. I remember I saw them at Bestival in 2012 and thought it was the coolest thing ever that I was backstage at a gig. It was really early on for them and they played at a tent between Lucy Rose and Lianne La Havas on the bill. I’ll never forget when the band came off backstage and did this jumping high-five thing! [laughs] It takes you by surprise when you realise that they’re just human people!

You spoke about attending festivals there, but now you’re planning one. Tell me about your work for CoppaFeel! and Festifeel.

That ultimately came from Daisy Digital. I went to Festifeel, which is this amazing project by the breast cancer charity CoppaFeel! and Fearne Cotton, as a fan. I’d interviewed Rae Morris back in 2012 and Festifeel was one of her first London shows, so I had to go see her! I did a preview piece for the festival and in turn they got in touch and said, “this is amazing, we’ve never had anyone music-related cover this festival.” It was never seen as a place to go see the hottest new acts in music, so now that I’m involved it’s a happy medium of trying to give emerging artists a platform. Last year, for example, we had Billie Marten open the festival and Everything Everything headline, that’s bridging between the more Radio 1 mainstream acts and someone who’s just signed a record deal. This year we’re still in the early stages of putting a line-up together, but I’m really keen to have a female-heavy line-up, whether that be all female acts or at least female-fronted bands, like Pumarosa or someone like that. It’s a really fun thing to do and I love it!

Obviously, the CoppaFeel! Campaign is geared towards women and you’re saying that you’d like the festival to be more female-orientated. What are your thoughts about the current situation of women in the music industry? It’s been a year and a half since we last spoke about it.

I think it’s getting better, slowly but surely. The great thing about having a blog is that anybody can do it, whether you’re female or male or whatever! You can start one tomorrow. The other aspect is when you’re actually working within the industry at a higher level, for example in PR, you become more conscious that it’s not equal. I think it’s really important that it’s become a focal point in the last two years at least. There’s a lot more industry chat about how we need to change things, and in time it will change. Festival bills are still something we really need to work on. As I mentioned in our last chat, I spoke about Reading and Leeds festivals not having any female headliners, and the amount of backlash that they got from last year, and this year they’ve done it again! I’m in a privileged position to be able to put on a festival and I tweeted about it not that long ago and I was quoted in Music Week saying that if Festifeel had the budget to pay people, which we don’t because we’re a charity festival, but if we could I would book an amazing all-female line-up. I’m fairly confident that it would sell out just as quick. The really sad thing is that people outside of the music industry don’t think about it, but if I was in charge of booking Reading and Leeds I would make sure it was at least 50/50. It’s beggar’s belief to me that it happened again.

“The great thing about having a blog is that anybody can do it, whether you’re female or male or whatever!”— Hannah Braid

Oh, I agree. I mean I didn’t have high expectations for Reading and Leeds, they weren’t exactly going to turn around with a fifty perfect female line-up, but they should have had at least one female headliner!

They couldn’t think of one female artists to fit that line-up! You look at someone like Florence + the Machine, Laura Marling, Chvrches and that’s just in the UK alone. They are definitely worthy of still selling a hell of a lot of tickets. There’s still a long way to go, but the fact we’re all talking about it is great - all for that!

Absolutely! We’re moving more towards the online world, so how much do you think festivals still influence the music industry?

I guess festivals and the online world in the same respect give artists the ability to reach thousands of fans that they might not necessarily do on their own. I still think it’s an amazing thing to be able to stumble out of your tent and come across someone playing at ten in the morning. I hope that for as long as I live these festivals will still be going, even when I’m super old! [laughs] My parents still go to festivals, and they’re not on SoundCloud or Spotify, so I think that’s quite a nice translation. As we move on in time, hopefully festivals will still be there, although I’m sure the next generation will find music in a whole new way. I hope that festivals will still offer a platform for emerging artists, because some bands have a huge online following, but they can’t sell tickets on their own. The live aspect is still hugely important for artists. Fingers crossed that in twenty years I’ll still be rocking out!

Yes! Alright, last question for you, who is your recommended must-see act at The Great Escape?

Actually, there’s a girl called Julia Jacklin.

I discovered her on HumanHuman!

Yeah, I tried to discover her but you beat me to it! I think she’s really amazing and doing amazing things.

https://humanhuman.com/articles/interview-daisy-digital

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