#lars cadence

[oros-ash3s]

📻 + Lazarus

|I 𝗣𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗯�� 𝗕𝗼 𝗘𝗻

Lazarus is, in all shapes and forms, a living weapon. He was taken into the Division when he was roughly around four years old, and since that time, cultivated into the soldier he is today. Thus, Lazarus has kind of lost touch with their humanity, and doesn’t have a concept of having goals or ambitions beyond what they’re told to do. They don’t have the skills to properly experience empathy or human emotions as their own.

The song to me sums up this aspect of his character. With the cadence of the music, which feels robotic (imo), as well as the song being electric pop, it gives off that kind of vibe that I leaned towards when creating him.

I’m feeling good, let’s say / My emptiness has gone away

I just woke up today / Eat my corny flakes for you

These lyrics fit him very well in my opinion. He feels basically a lack of emotion a lot of the time, but completing his mission and being dutiful to the Division leave him fulfilled.

—

Hold me, I’m a pale machine / Life is just okay out here, anyone can see

I’m lonely, with my pale machine / Eyes will run with tired tears

Leaving like a dream

These lyrics also are “so him” to me!! Literally expressing how he’s a machine, etc etc.

Thanks so much for the ask!!

TAGLIST || @ohagiwrites @bloodinkandashes @corinneglass @icantthinkofablognameatm @vesanal @inky-anathemata @bioniclechronicles @seastarblue @gr3yhellh0und @aalinaaaaaa @robinshandhurts @ieppiq @sugaredparchment @lunaeuphternal @ifmasonbasonwasawriter @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @blackboxwarrior-mkultra @lancedoncrimsonwings @sharkblizzardblogs @nightmaricwriter @theink-stainedfolk @cepheusgalaxy @write-with-will @c0zy-drag0n

[burning-academia-if]

I'm so sorry for all the notifications lmao I'm going around liking every ask because i haven't been on the page for a bit. And why the fuck is all the asks making me like Lars. I don't want to like Lara because Lara doesn't want to like my MC.. i already have enough problems with Rook 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

I need to stay away from these problematic ROs. 😭

Oh quessssstiiioooon someone's probably asked this before but I've seen it on a few blogs. But since magic is obvs a thing. If someone cursed MC or gave them something that could only be broken by true love's kiss (especially since mc doesn't really have the healthiest relationship with those they are close to so who would think they could break a spell like that)

and it's after they've confessed to the ROs. How would they react to MC not waking up at first after they kissed them... but waking up after they've started having a major meltdown after all?

If you have gotten this ask could i please have a link because finding anything on tumblr is... 😒

And i literally fall in love with this goddamn IF every time i read anything on this page. It's a curse in itself... I hope you have a lovely weekend 🤣😇💜

Omg never apologize for mass liking, that's literally anyone on Tumblr's lifeblood lol

Also you know, I feel like Lars, despite being the biggest asshole of the ROs, is still less of a handful then Rook lmfaO good luck with dealing with them!

Also I have not been asked this one before! Felt very inspired it with, so I turned it into a prompt!

Rook:

            You’re so still against the touch of his lips. You’re still even after he pulls away. His chest buzzes so loud it echoes in his ears. You don’t move, not even the flutter of your lashes and he should have known. How can he be your true love, when he spent so many years running away?

            Whoever it is, would look you in the eyes when you said you loved them. They’re someone who would have taken you in their arms instead of turning away again and again. He sinks to his knees, hands clutching at the side of the bed where you lay. Tears burn at his eyes, but not a single one falls.

            Even before he made this foolish decision, he knew. All that’s left is to find the one could wake up. If you’re life lays in the hands of someone else, a fact he always knew, then so be it.

            He’ll let you go, like he should have so long ago. He will. He just needs another moment here with you before he turns away. He needs to hear your heartbeat and the cadence of your breathing for one last time.

            Time passes as slow as honey, thick and opaque. His body is listless. In the silence, your breath catches and he blinks. Turns. You take another shaky breath, and when your eyes open, he’s on his feet.

            “MC!” He gathers you in his arms, holding on tight. “Oh, thank god. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

            His forehead falls against your shoulder, and the tears finally fall. Your awake, your body is warm. And maybe, just maybe, he really does have a chance to make things right.

Beck:

            When you don’t move after he pulls away, he doesn’t waver. Magic is strange, it can effect everyone differently, and with how much magic has affected you, he isn’t concerned that there isn’t an immediate response.

            Instead, he takes a seat next to where you lay. He brings his knees up to his chest and tells you about all the things you’ve missed. The first flowers of spring, the new used bookstore that opened up on the corner, school events, and class drama.

            The time ticks down, and it pricks at his heart. He keeps talking. About himself, about his life, about how he first fell for you, about how you are the warmth of the fire on a winter day, and if even if he isn’t your true love, then that’s ok. He’s just so glad he was able to have any time with you at all.

            At some point, his throat is dry and he’s run out of words. What can he say, as the sky turns a dusty orange. He swallows, eyes fluttering closed and feel the first of the tears fall. If it isn’t him to wake you up, then who will it be? And how long will you be cursed to sleep until they find you?

            A world without your laugh is far worse than a world where the two of you aren’t meant to be.

            Then.

            You shift beside him, and he goes still. When he looks, he sees your eyes flutter open, eyebrows furrowing as you look at him.

            “…You’re awake.” He says, voice barely above a whisper. He brushes his fingers against your cheek, so impossibly gently. “You’re awake.”

            He laughs, a watery, trembly sort of laugh, as he runs a thumb against your cheek. You’ll still be with him.

Rhea:

            “Please wake up.” She whispers, kneeling next to you. There is no sign the kiss did anything. It’s fine, this isn’t the end of the world. She has had the logic of magic seared into her brain, and she knows how it works. She’ll wait. She can wait.

            But still, you remain still. She gets up and moves around, to give her body something to do as she waits. She’s not good at that, waiting. She always needs to be in the midst of doing something. Making progress. When something’s out of her hands like this, she feels like she’s in freefall.

            There might be a chance, she thinks as time ticks by, that you and her aren’t the ones for each other. Somehow, it makes the anxious energy in her gut easier to deal with. As long as she doesn’t think of the heartbreak that will hit the moment she leaves your side, it gives her a plan. Something to work towards. Steps to map out to figure out where to go from here and how to wake you up. The process of even finding the one who could do so.

            She’s on step four when your fingers twitch. She goes still in response. All her thoughts scatter. Like a deer in headlights she watches you, wondering if it was just her imagination. But then your body shifts and she’s next to you again, softly calling your name.

            “MC? Can you…can you hear me darling?” When you blink away, she feels a smile bloom despite herself. You’re awake and well and still hers.

Zoe:

            There’s doubt in their chest even before they press a kiss against your lips. For it to be them? They’re not the kind of person who makes it into fairytales. They know this. Stories are the sort of thing they’ve studied their entire life. They exist on the other side of the glass, able to peer in but never able to be.

            As you remain still, they stand and lean back on their heel. Whoever your true love is, it isn’t them. It isn’t that they doubt your love, but it’s hard to imagine that kind of forever for them. If this was the fate they were dealt, then so be it. And even so, you were their first love, and that’s a kind of special whatever comes next can’t take away. Even on different paths, even living different lives, you can both still be a fond memory for the other.

            But god, they’ve never experience heartbreak either or the way it collides into their body and leaves them breathless. They wanted this. Every moment with you was a dream they never thought they’d get a chance to see. They were awkward and clumsy, and they were the luckiest person alive to have been able to met you.

            They press a hand against their mouth, to stop the sob that’s trying to break through them. The image of you blurs as tears collect in their eyes and stream down their cheeks. They squeeze their eyes shut, trying to collect themselves.

            It’s why it startles them, when they feel a hand reaching out, “…Zoe?”

            They choke on a gasp, eyes flying open to see you awake. You’ve pulled yourself up, and your eyes are open. It strikes them so suddenly, they all but throw themselves against you. Any embarrassment they used to feel is gone. They’ll never let themselves hesitate again.

Lars:

            “You would get yourself cursed.” He whispered against your lips as he pulls away. He doesn’t believe in true love or soulmates. For a curse to be based on the concept, it must make it the flimsiest curse to have been made. All it really needs is love and faith and stubbornness. Maybe his faith is lacking, but he sure as hell can make up for it with stubbornness.

            So he waits. He leans his head back, closes his eyes, and wonders how long it will take. His hand toys with your fingers absently. With you asleep, you won’t be able to comment on the display. He still remembers when you said you loved him, the look in your eyes that left no room for doubt. He thought you were making a terrible decision, but he wasn’t one to complain. Your terrible decision, just lead to his great decision to go along with it.

            The time passes slow, but the anxiety never comes. That isn’t who he is. Not when he’s sure about this, or at least more sure about it then whatever magic was used on you. And even if the kiss doesn’t wake you up, he’ll just find whoever cursed you in the first place and make them reap the consequences.

            When he feels your hand move, slipping your fingers between his, he sighs, “About time you got up.”

            “Lars? My hand—”

            “Don’t get used to it.” You laugh, the sound scratchy from sleep, and he feels his body relax. It was nice to have you back.

???:

            They know your souls are too entwined to have a doubt. That doesn’t not mean there won’t be blood on their hands for what was done to you. How dare someone curse the one they love. How dare someone put their hands on you.

            They’re kiss is so painfully soft despite the violent rage in their chest. It’s been so long since they’ve felt this burning under their skin. Did the Curse Giver think you were alone and unloved? Did they not realize you had someone who was entwined with you in every way, down to the way you take a breath.

            The wraiths flicker around them, agitated by the tremble in their body. They keep close to you, body curved as a way to shield you from the rest of the earth. If you don’t wake soon, they’re hands will find a blade, and that blade will find a body. The wraiths whisper amongst each other, as though capable of soothing them.

            “But you were cursed even before this, weren’t you?” They breathe, pressing another kiss to your forehead. You shift beneath them, and when they pull away you open your eyes.

            You say their name, and the sound of it wraps around them. They have a Curse Giver to kill, but for now, they only lay down beside you, and ask if you’re ok. You’ve been asleep for so long, and it took too long to get to you. They’ll never be late again.

[roguestarr]

Ok I know we're all already pining for season 2, but how excellent was Lars Mikkelsen as Thrawn once again?? His voice, his cadence, the blue, everything! That final speech at the end... holy shit.

[geekpopnews]

"A Melodia da Água" chega às livrarias em 29 de novembro

Em A Melodia da Água, magia e música se encontram para desvendar mistérios e despertar romances. #amelodiadaagua #fantasia

Prepare-se para desbravar águas misteriosas em A Melodia da Água, da autora Rebecca Ross, o primeiro volume de uma duologia que cativa com sua fusão de magia, romance e um enredo envolvente. Jack Tamerlaine, um jovem que deixou a ilha de Cadence há uma década para se tornar bardo no continente, agora retorna ao seu lar. Adaira, sua antiga rival e futura líder da ilha, o convoca para enfrentar um…

[jazzmarketing]

20-Minute Jazz Cycling - Ride to the Rhythm

In a class for indoor cycling, music sets the tone and can motivate participants to be more active when you are working out. Instructors typically select music to complement specific exercises and tempos in order to give you the most effective exercise experience. Studies have demonstrated that fast music increases the duration of exercises that are submaximal in comparison to slow music, while classical music reduces perceived exertion.

Positive Attitude With their lively upbeat beats, a lot of jazz songs are great for intense workouts. Instructors usually choose songs with a beat to encourage their students. Be aware of the tempo and pedal to the beat. This will help you build endurance and push yourself during your workout. NASM-certified personal trainer and Mad Dogg Athletics cyclist Kaleigh Cohen teaches this beginner-friendly YouTube cycling class. She will guide participants through jogs, climbs as well as sprints. Additionally, she provides useful tips on the proper form. She's also a fan of upbeat, under-the-radar music that enhances the excitement of a ride. Cecile McLorin Salvant is a singer who draws inspiration from the great jazz singers of the past, like Bessie Smith, Betty Carter and Sarah Vaughan. But her voice is notable by its expressiveness, rich lower register and broad range. She'll be appearing at SFJAZZ from 6-9 September with her band Sons of Kemet which includes multi-faceted musician Shabaka Hutchings. Energized If you like to pedal to the beat, you'll need to increase the pace to a playlist of high-energy jazz. But be careful not to go overboard as advised by Kinesiologist Mark-Anthony Sanchez of Beaverton, Oregon. If you are exerting too excessive force, it could make your cycling jerky and lead to injury. In a controlled, in-vivo experiment 12 males were asked to choose their own rates of work while listening to the same music duration, but at different tempos: The music was played at a normal tempo which was the speed was increased by 10% and then slowed down by 10 percent. The faster music increased the distance traveled/unit time, and power. The slower music increased heart rate, perceived exertion, as well as thermal comfort. The vocalists of the world have a particular energy boost. SFJAZZ fave Cecile McLorin Salvant is a part of a lineage that includes Bessie Smith and Sarah Vaughan, but her voice has its own distinctive appeal. She'll be back at SFJAZZ from SEP 6-9 with her group Ogresse. Relaxed Music has a major impact on your training. Instructors create playlists according to their experience and knowledge of songs that work well with particular exercises. They also coordinate the tempo of the music with your exercise goals. Cecile McLorin's voice sounds rich and expressive, evoking famous jazz singers like Bessie and Betty Carter. She is a unique artist who has crafted a distinctive style over 10 years. In a study conducted in a laboratory cyclists cycled at their self-determined paces while listening music with different speed and tempos. Speeding up the program increased distance covered/unit of time, power and pedal cadence, while slowing it did the opposite. In other words, matching your workout's tempo to your beat can help you work harder. Smooth If you're a novice on the bike and want to learn how, this YouTube cycling workout could be the perfect fit for you. Kaleigh Cohen, a Mad Dogg Athletics cycling coach and NASM-certified trainer walks you through different sprints, jogs and climbing. She also gives guidelines for form and encourages you to pay attention to your body and avoid pushing through the pain. The class, which is filmed in the studio, is packed with high-quality footage which makes it simple to follow the class. This hour-long YouTube workout will test your endurance while jamming out to the beats of the 80s. Personal trainer Lars Meesters, an ACE-certified professional, will guide you through sprints and climbs to build your endurance and keeping you on track with the beat. The workout comes with high-quality footage as well as a comfortable space for you to focus on your cycling technique and choreography. It will get you sweating, but it'll also make you feel calm and relaxed. Go to the video

[darilto-blog]

A Verdade Sobre o Climatizador de Ar Cadence Ventilar Duo Tank

Climatizador Cadence 3 em 1: Análise Completa e Imparcial para uma Casa mais Confortável

Refresque seu Ambiente com Eficiência e Conforto

Quando se trata de encontrar o equilíbrio perfeito entre conforto, eficiência e preço acessível, o climatizador Cadence 3 em 1 se destaca como uma opção viável para aqueles que buscam tornar seu lar mais agradável. Nesta análise, exploraremos minuciosamente suas características, desempenho e pontos a considerar, oferecendo uma visão crítica e imparcial para ajudar na sua decisão de compra.

Características Principais do Climatizador Cadence 3 em 1

O climatizador compacto da Cadence, com suas dimensões de 230 x 550 x 290 mm, destaca-se por sua adaptabilidade a espaços menores, sendo uma escolha ideal para quartos ou ambientes compactos. Sua mobilidade é facilitada pelas rodinhas deslizantes, permitindo fácil deslocamento entre cômodos.

Com um reservatório de 5,7 litros, o climatizador apresenta o inovador Pad Cooling, um filtro colmeia que utiliza a evaporação da água para naturalmente refrescar o ambiente. Adicionalmente, o Filtro Antipoeira assegura um ar mais puro ao impedir a entrada de partículas indesejadas. O sistema Easy Fill garante um abastecimento prático, assegurando conforto térmico em qualquer momento. O recurso Dual Tank, com duas bolsas de gelo, intensifica a eficiência de resfriamento.

Desempenho e Utilização do Climatizador

É fundamental observar que o climatizador opera com uma potência de 65W, o que pode limitar sua eficácia em temperaturas superiores a 28°C. Ele se destaca especialmente como uma opção noturna, ideal para quem busca um ambiente silencioso para um sono tranquilo. Seu som constante, semelhante ao ruído branco combinado ao murmúrio da água, cria uma atmosfera relaxante e propícia ao descanso.

Pontos a Considerar antes da Aquisição

Contudo, alguns aspectos requerem atenção especial. Problemas na embalagem podem acarretar vazamentos nos recipientes de gel, comprometendo o manual e a caixa do produto. Além disso, detalhes no acabamento do climatizador, como a tampa superior necessitando de ajustes frequentes e a exigência de desmontagem para limpezas periódicas, merecem destaque como pontos a serem considerados.

Conclusão: O Veredito sobre o Climatizador Cadence 3 em 1

Apesar das limitações pontuais, o climatizador Cadence se sobressai pelo seu excelente custo-benefício. Com um preço acessível, oferece um desempenho satisfatório para sua categoria, tornando-se uma escolha atrativa para aqueles que buscam eficiência sem comprometer o orçamento. Globalmente, considero-o como a melhor opção de climatizador de 65/70W disponível no mercado, proporcionando um ambiente mais agradável e saudável para minha família.

Considerações Finais e Convite à Interação

Espero que esta análise tenha sido esclarecedora e útil para você. Caso tenha experiência com o climatizador Cadence ou sugestões para futuros reviews, compartilhe nos comentários. Não se esqueça de deixar seu like, compartilhar este conteúdo e se inscrever no Canal Kevin Smith para mais análises e informações relevantes. Até a próxima!

[manybcdthings]

Felix wasn't surprised when there was no sign of Nina as Oskar arrived. His sister had long since realized she was the buffer in their dynamic, the only one who could smooth out the rough edges. Without her, there were empty words and awkward silences, especially after weeks of limited contact. Felix engaged in the small talk with a dreary tone, both he and Oskar painfully aware that they were dancing around something far more significant. It was as predictable as it was exhausting. When Oskar gestured to the two old trunks, Felix's gaze followed. The chests had been haphazardly packed away and were now stacked one atop the other in his kitchen. They contrasted sharply with the modern decor, an uncomfortable metaphor of time that Felix preferred not to acknowledge. He mirrored Oskar's hesitant step towards them, moving closer with caution to the time capsules. "Yeah. That's exactly what happened," he replied sincerely, though he bit back other words. If Oskar paid more attention to his own daughter, perhaps he’d notice when she was pulling the wool over his eyes.

Felix rubbed the back of his head before crossing his arms, lingering near the chests as his expression remained blank while he listened to Oskar. "There's actually not much of interest in them. A few old books, clothes, photos. That sort of thing," he explained, intercepting his brother’s curiosity as he opened the top trunk. "There was this photo album, Lars' and Hanna's." the album was just the beginning of the questions it raised. "Do you know if Greta had any brothers or sisters?" Felix's tone lifted with the question as he dug around in the chest, pulling out the album. He turned to the same picture that showed a young boy with a striking resemblance to Henrik. "These…very happy-looking children appear in a bunch of photos and then just…don't." Felix said, passing the album to Oskar at the same time that brother’s lecture filled the space between them. A familiar cadence that Felix had grown accustomed to, despite responding immediately with a dry chuckle. "Well, if these chests were out of sight and out of mind, then Agneta isn't going to notice they're missing. So, we have nothing to worry about."

Before Felix was able to say anything else, the sound of Nina's arrival buzzed through his apartment and he used it as ample opportunity to escape the painful conversation with Oskar. Letting their sister enter, Felix just bopped a quick nod in greeting while gesturing to where the questions about their family were, once again, circling. "Great, now we can actually get to the good part." he commented, following after Nina to his kitchen. "In the second chest, there's a..." Felix paused, looking to Oskar and then to Nina. "Do you know if Greta had any brothers or sisters?" he backtracked, pointing to the photo album Oskar held. "There's kids in a bunch of photos, and then it's like they disappeared." @secrettyrant

where: felix's apartment

with: oskar ranstrom, nina ranstrom and felix ranstrom @manybcdthings

★・・・・・・★

As stated, Oskar arrives at his brother's apartment at precisely 1 p.m., his punctuality not surprising nor his meticulous nature. However, as he steps into the familiar space, there's a noticeable slump to his posture. He quickly realizes that Nina, likely for her own amusement, has delayed her own arrival. Leaving him and Felix alone after weeks of no contact. Navigating anything with Felix these days feels like a minefield. Oskar stands awkwardly, unsure of where to step next. He observes his brother, noting that Felix seems slightly rejuvenated, a spark in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Oskar equates this newfound vitality to the return of Isabella Belcourt in Felix’s life. A small pang of guilt tugs at him, remembering the conversation he had with her at the Beekman Hotel. A conversation that now feels like a betrayal.

The room is heavy with silence at first, the kind that wraps around you like a dense fog. Uncomfortable and tight. When they do speak, the small talk is stilted and their words barely break the surface of their strained relationship. Desperate for a distraction, Oskar turns to the purpose of his visit, using it as a lifeline. He glances at the two large leather chests in the room. Old and worn, their leather cracked and tired after traveling through countless generations. Buckling under the weight of untold secrets. With a weak wave of his hand, Oskar gestures towards them, trying to deflect the awkward tension. "So, Madi got hold of these somehow?" his voice resonates with a hint of intrigue. "I'm guessing on the day when she told me she left her purse at our parents' place." he had found it odd at the time that Madi had visited Agneta and Olaf, a rare occurrence that now makes much more sense.

Taking hesitant steps towards the chests, Oskar's mind races back to their childhood. "I remember seeing these as kids. Not inside them, obviously. Mom seemed to want them out of sight and out of mind. I'm guessing for a reason, one that you and Madi have carelessly discovered." he looks to Felix with expectancy and with a casual wave of his hand, he dismisses Nina’s absence. "What have you found? She can catch up." Oskar's eyes linger on the chests, their presence a physical reminder of the mysteries that have always surrounded their family. He feels a mix of curiosity and dread, wondering what revelations lie within those old, tired containers. "You should have texted me when Madisyn arrived with them, Felix. Agneta will lose her mind when she finds out."

[olivespectersgarden]

Brian has exactly 0 table manners, and for some reason half of the party just stood outside. 

[rnainframe]

[kushblazer666]

every time i read “lars von trier” i read in the same cadence as “nash grier” from that vine where his peers bully him via pelting with a banana

[maidenxfmight]

closed starter for @cfvalors​

It was Kara’s turn to feel her heart beating out of her chest. It was her turn to shift on her feet, barely touching the sand below her. Surely she didn’t even have to give Lar coordinates; he’d be able to hear the sheer nervous energy of her.

It could be any other. She could let it be any other night. They could read poetry with the blanket of stars spread above them, and pretend there weren’t bracelets in her pockets. Kara could keep pretending there wasn’t something there until the stars themselves ran out, but she didn’t want to. Because there was Lar with his hands on the sides of her face and a gentle smile on his own. With his lips pressed against her forehead and the familiar cadence of Kryptonian on his tongue. With his bravery and his kindness and his love for life despite all that was thrown at him.

She could pretend, but then there was Lar.

“Hello, Lar Gand.” She started before he could fully settle in front of her. She’d picked the Sahara for the wide swath of stars displayed proudly overhead, for how calm and how quiet it could be. But standing there, she really just felt open. Exposed. Her heart a loud drumbeat against still desert sand. Raw and still unworthy for a man who’d offered such forgiveness. “I’m glad you came.”

[focusfixated]

Author: frissonic Rating: Teen & Up Fandoms: Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga Pairing: Sigrit Ericksdóttir/Lars Erickssong, Alexander Lemtov/OC

summary: Alexander Lemtov, winner of Eurovision, goes to Husavík and gets stuck there. He goes on a spiritual journey through music and memory, or maybe just kills some time until a volcano stops exploding.

notes: oh my god oh my god. honestly, i did not think i could feel this much joy reading something that came out of a silly film which i was wary about watching anyway because of how much i love eurovision, but--

this story takes all the best and quirkiest elements of the humour that was present in the film and elevates it into something that's both genuinely hilarious but also deeply revealing from a character perspective. the author also absolutely nails the speaking cadence and humour of the characters in a way that is just masterful. comedy writing in fanfiction, especially in a way that rings true to the original material, is so hard to do, and this captured it in such a brilliant way. 

this story also successfully brings into focus the key themes (and key characters) that were touched on in the film but needed much more depth; yes, eurovision is ostentatious, high-camp eurotrash on the one hand, but it’s also about identity (cultural, political, personal), belonging, and connection with people across all their differences - not to mention the historical significance it has for the gay community. this fic takes all those elements and does eurovision, and the story of fire saga, the justice it deserves. 

[kevrocksicehouse]

A few of the many interesting roles Paul Bettany took before he became an android.

Geoffrey Chaucer: A Knight’s Tale. D: Brian Helgeland (2001). Helgeland’s tale of a young squire (Heath Ledger) impersonating a Knight to win a jousting tournament wore its anachronisms on its sleeve, not as a Mel Brooks-burlesque but as a straightforward tale with the occasional pop-culture goosing. So a blacksmith puts a Nike swoosh on a suit of armor, dancers at a courtly ball start clap-waltzing to Bowie’s “Golden Years,” and best of all Paul Bettany plays Geoffrey Chaucer as a showbiz hustler with a gambling problem who manages Ledger. Hearing the great poet announcing (in wrestling announcer cadence) “I give to you, the seeker of serenity, the protector of Italian virginity, the enforcer of our Lord God, THE ONE, THE ONLY, SIR ULLLRRRRICH VON LICHENSTEIN!” was a high point of a very good movie year.

Tom Edison Jr. in Dogville. (2003) D: Lars von Trier. Bettany is a young philosophical moralist who convinces the citizens of his small town to shelter a mysterious woman (Nicole Kidman) running away from trouble. As her peril increases the town starts to demand small services from her,  then larger services, then a form of indentured servitude that turns into full-blown sexual slavery. The town becomes a metaphor for everything  the misanthropic director finds repugnant not just about this country but humanity itself with Tom representing the idealistic cover over our inner savagery. When hell descends on the town, not only is the pure-at-heart idealist judged as harshly as the rest. We want to see him put down.

Dr. Stephen Maturin in Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. D: Peter Weir (2003). Naval battle on the high seas during the Napoleonic Wars of the early nineteenth century. Russell Crowe stars as Captain Jack Aubrey but it is Bettany as Maturin, the eccentric and ridiculously skilled ship’s doctor and naturalist (who takes a bullet and successfully performs surgery on himself to remove it) who steals the movie. At one point a the doctor, who is a disciple of Charles Darwin, has to cut short an expedition to the Galapagos Islands to aid his crewmates.  The look of disappointment and yearning on Bettany’s face has never left me. Though when I heard that the film’s box-office disappointment would keep it from becoming a multi-picture franchise, I’m sure I duplicated it.

[anghraine]

“the jedi and the sith lord” - chapter fourteen

Last chapter:

“And don’t stiffen up your arm.”

Lucy stared at him, eyes wide, then down at her hand. For a moment, she could hardly breathe. Her father was here, alive, teaching her what she’d wanted to know for so long. Her father—

“I won’t turn to the Dark Side,” she said.

“You don’t need the Dark Side to hold a lightsaber correctly,” said Vader.

This chapter:

He couldn’t deny the fuller truth. He’d started training her because he wanted to. That first moment of correcting her grip had come without thought beyond a vague and instinctive sense that she should know. She was his daughter, the child he had expected and then thought dead, standing alive and well in front of him. She had a right to know such things.

chapters: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter eight, chapter nine, chapter ten, chapter eleven, chapter twelve, chapter thirteen

-

“I don’t see the point,” said Lucy.

“Good posture is critical for—” 

Vader broke off as he realized, horrifyingly, that his voice had fallen into the exact cadence of Obi-Wan’s. Instead, he laid his hands on her shoulders and straightened them. Lucy twitched, but he only sensed annoyance and a confusion he couldn’t quite identify, not fear. 

“Hold this position and try the third form,” he ordered.

“There is no try,” said Lucy, looking down at her stick. Determinedly, she lifted it. “Only success or failure.”

“Nonsense,” Vader said, though he was aware his men probably thought he believed such a thing. “The point of practice is to attempt techniques. You repeat your attempts until you can succeed consistently, or until success is no longer possible. You do not give up after a single failure.”

Or many failures. He’d learned that painfully and repeatedly. 

Lucy heaved a long-suffering sigh, then straightened to her full, if tiny, height and lifted the stick. She adjusted her footing and lunged forward. 

“Better,” Vader told her. “Now, try again.”

“I’ve done it twelve times today,” said Lucy.

He didn’t doubt that she’d counted. Lucy, he’d quickly discovered, was one to nurse her grievances. In anyone else, he’d have soon crushed the quality; with Lucy, he reluctantly recalled his own youth, and suspected that some cosmic justice had caught up with him.

He told her, “Then another twelve will not hurt you.”

She groaned.

“A Jedi,” he said, “must be disciplined and relentless.”

“I’m not a Jedi,” said Lucy, pushing her hair out of her face. “You said so yourself.”

You will be. 

Vader laid his hands on her shoulders again, holding them in place. “Try again.”

It was what had become a typical day. Palpatine had given him a kind of limited leave in order to turn Lucy—Vader suspected the new project had some part in this—and he was able to carry out his more urgent duties from Bast Castle or Vjun’s orbit. When not preoccupied with Rebel attacks and Imperial machinations, or the painful regimen of treatments made necessary by Obi-Wan, he found himself tracking down Lucy. Sometimes he simply oversaw her practices without comment, but more often, they spoke, Lucy either slinging questions at him, or arguing, or sometimes, eagerly listening to what he had to say.

He didn’t term it training; she’d refused that, and he knew that if he presented it in that sense, she would back away again. But, however rudimentary the techniques he taught her—Obi-Wan seemed to have made an even more inadequate teacher to Lucy—it was very little short of full Jedi training. He even consulted the databanks they’d preserved from the Temple, his memories of those early stages of his padawan training no longer sharply clear, and in any case, not something he wished to remember. 

He avoid mentioning the Dark Side. Her rejection of the necessity awaiting her remained strong, and this was the first real progress he’d made with her. He had to break down her defenses before she would choose to walk down her destined path. 

This, he told himself, was the reason he’d started observing her practices and then intervening in them. It was their first step to ruling the galaxy.

Yet he couldn’t deny the fuller truth. He’d started training her because he wanted to. That first moment of correcting her grip had come without thought beyond a vague and instinctive sense that she should know. She was his daughter, the child he had expected and then thought dead, standing alive and well in front of him. She had a right to know such things, however little she enjoyed hearing them or demonstrating them. 

And sometimes, in fact, she did seem to enjoy one or the other. 

Once, when she set down her stick after a long practice, he said, “You weren’t trained with a lightsaber, were you?”

“A little,” said Lucy. Then she paused, plainly hiding something. “But that was more about defense. Mostly, I did other things.”

“Ah. What types of things?” he asked, intrigued. It took all his resolve to restrain himself from insisting on taking up her incomplete training in … whatever it was. 

Her brows knitted together, and he suspected she might refuse to answer. Instead, she said slowly,

“Well, there was a lot of running and jumping.”

“Running and jumping?” he repeated. “That is how you were trained?”

Obi-Wan had taught him a wide array of abilities, many certainly involving speed and maneuvers, but he’d always focused on the lightsaber above all else. Vader had no idea how many hours he’d spent practicing forms and deflection under his master’s critical eye, except too many. And then there’d been combat training, and then—well.

This weapon is your life.

“It helps,” said Lucy. 

“How?” he asked.

She seemed both thoughtful and bemused. Then she gave a little shrug. 

“Watch, Father.”

With no more warning than that, she took off running for the rung ladder on the side of the wall, scaled it with alarming speed, and all but bounced off the wall and onto a platform. She took an unhesitating leap to another platform, one her short legs could barely reach, then took another—and suddenly, she was burning in the Force, and somersaulting right off a high platform to one that her legs couldn’t possibly reach. 

The Force would protect her, of course. He knew that, but if he hadn’t known that, and if the suit didn’t regulate it, his heart might nearly have stopped.

With every appearance of little effort, she sprang over distances that no other person of her size could have made or, in all probability, survived. Finally, she threw herself at the wall, caught a rung with her hands, and clambered down like a spider, still shining. As she landed, she turned towards him, and her stick lifted into the air and soared into her waiting hand. 

Lucy jogged over.

“That’s the idea,” she told him. 

“I see,” said Vader. “Impressive.”

She actually grinned. He could sense none of her usual petty irritations and frustrations, or the sullen anger that usually smouldered beneath them. In that moment, she seemed happy.

-

As for further discussion of their respective pasts, they confined those to Lucy’s mealtimes. Even then, Vader generally diverted conversation onto Lucy’s past rather than his own, which he could hardly think about without feeling deafened by the echoes of the rage and despair that had dominated so much of his life. Speaking of it was still worse, and yet, he nevertheless found himself doing so now and then. Anything that made Lucy more amenable had to be attempted, and total ignorance would hardly serve her well. And in this, too, he felt that she had something like a right to know—particularly to know the things that Obi-Wan had obscured or omitted. 

“The Emperor was your mother’s mentor in her teenage years,” he told her. “She admired and respected him until their visions diverged.”

“Did she know what he was?” Lucy asked in a tight voice, between mouthfuls of some kind of vegetable soup.

She was the only person he knew who could eat soup aggressively.

“No,” said Vader. “None of us did.”

Us rang out oddly. It felt peculiar to class himself in with Padmé, who’d betrayed him, and Obi-Wan, who had more than betrayed him, and the corrupted Jedi Order of the time. But between them, they had comprised much of the galaxy for him, until he came to see more clearly.

Lucy, heiress to that galaxy, just nodded. 

“That makes it better,” she said. “Did you—”

“You said you knew Obi-Wan from your childhood,” he said abruptly. “Yet he did not interfere in your upbringing?”

She didn’t look fooled, but if he’d forced himself into a certain level of accommodation, so had Lucy. She accepted the change of subject without protest.

“I think Uncle Owen might have shot anyone who tried.” 

The horror of Shmi’s last hours had vastly overshadowed Anakin’s brief interchanges with Owen Lars. Dimly, however, he found himself approving of the man. It was a pity about the stormtroopers. A too-frequent pity, perhaps. Lucy might be able to more effectively take charge of them, once she became empress.

-

Lucy tried to consult her feelings. She’d learned to trust them, more or less—but only when she knew what they were. As it was, she felt a blurry mixture of determination and annoyance and resentment and excitement that gave her hardly any direction at all. Even at her calmest moments, the Light Side pouring through her, she had little idea of what she should be doing.

She didn’t see Ben again, and couldn’t trust his advice anyway. Chirrut only appeared in her dreams now and again, encouraging but bemused by the whole situation. Yoda was entirely inaccessible. When she referred to his teachings, Anakin almost always quarrelled with them, and often sounded convincing—but he was Darth Vader. 

She never let herself forget that, even as she learned what she could from him and followed his instructions. When she did, anyway. At night, she constantly questioned herself, worrying that she was sliding into the Dark Side against her own will, and certain that, at the very least, he must be trying to soften her up for it. But the Dark Side fed off anger and fear and hatred. However complicated her feelings about her father, she didn’t hate him, and rarely felt worse than a general aggravation. And she wasn’t afraid. Nervous, sometimes—but not afraid.

Sometimes, she was even happy.

That worried her most of all. She’d heard about people who became happy in captivity, who were trapped so long that they came to like it, or think that they did. People could get used to almost anything. And, in fairness, she didn’t have a whole lot of bad things to get used to, beyond the captivity itself and the disappearance of Tuvié, whose absent chatter still gave Ellex’s silences a heavy weight. Lucy knew it had to be purposeful: give her comforts, and an unspoken threat that they might be taken away at any moment, and it would grind her down. 

If she couldn’t sense her father in the Force, she might have focused on that, learning caution. But she could feel him, and the more time passed, the more clearly she sensed him. She knew there was more going on here, had known it from the moment he stepped out of his ship to recover her. She could feel his present and remembered rage, his shifts to cool calculation, his deep resentments. But she could also feel his anger subsiding into a simple close attention when he came to teach her, the Light Side then easier to grasp than at any other time. 

She sensed more than that, too. When she’d first shown him a part of what she could do, she’d finished with a decided sense of satisfaction and pride at her execution of the difficult routine and control over the Force—more satisfaction, in fact, than she actually felt. And she’d realized he was proud of her. Nothing more than that, perhaps, but nothing less: he had seen Lucy’s abilities, seen her succeed, and felt proud. 

That, in itself, didn’t have to say much about him, even if the awareness that her father was alive and proud of her made her feel like the darkest parts of the galaxy had turned inside-out and lit up like Empire Day. She was his daughter; it made sense that he’d see her, at times, as an extension of himself, and her successes as extensions of his own. It made all the more sense considering his ultimate plans for her. And yet it didn’t really feel like that. It felt like he—well, like he wanted her to succeed for her own sake, too, for no better reason than that he was her father and, in his way, he cared about her.

She dared not trust it. But she dared not disregard it, either, when she could see nothing of whatever futures might await her. And it made life here easier, feeling echoed pride when she did something well, and concern when she did something dangerous (not really dangerous, of course), and interest when she said anything at all. They felt like traces of the Anakin Skywalker he had once been, of some fractured inner goodness that somehow persisted. 

Was there still good in him?

She didn’t know. But in the end, Lucy could see no other way but forward.

-

“Ellex,” said Lucy. 

Ellex didn’t respond.

“Hey, Ellex!”

She looked at Lucy, managing to imbue the slight shake of her head with profound long-suffering. She still didn’t say anything.

“LX-3,” Lucy tried.

“I am the only LZ-line droid in Castle Bast,” said Ellex. “Quite probably, I am the only one on the planet.”

“Sure,” said Lucy. “I mean, it seems likely. But I had an idea for something you could help me with.”

Ellex shifted slightly, the red flash of her optical sensors about as encouraging as usual. 

Not very.

“Is it required for your basic functioning?” Ellex said.

“No,” Lucy replied, “but—”

“Then why should I assist you?” Ellex’s sensors flashed again. “You are a prisoner here. I will act to prevent any plans for escape you may have—”

“I don’t have any,” said Lucy.

“Given your history,” Ellex told her, “that seems extremely doubtful.”

Lucy stopped. She hadn’t lied; she really wasn’t thinking about escape. Maybe her exposure to the planet’s deadly environment had killed that idea, though she didn’t recall any specific moment when she’d given it up. She just hadn’t considered it for awhile. Shouldn’t that trouble her? 

It did, a little. But not much. She focused on her tangled emotions, trying yet again to pin down something that might guide her. But the Light Side supplied nothing but the general comfort of its presence. Maybe that meant that she was supposed to be here. Or maybe it just meant that she might as well be here as anywhere else, or—no, she couldn’t go through all that again.

Lucy shrugged the entire question off. “My idea isn’t about that. It’s about moving the platforms.”

She could feel her father approaching, though, so she privately gave up, even as Ellex tilted her head back to inspect the platforms.

“I fail to see a purpose in doing so.”

“You’d do it while I was up there,” said Lucy. “With the remote.”

Ellex clicked several times, then said, “I now see a purpose.”

Lucy honestly didn’t know if Ellex meant that she understood Lucy’s purpose, or would just find it entertaining.

“However,” the droid went on, “I do not wish to be—”

The door opened.

“—disintegrated by Lord Vader,” finished Ellex.

Vader glanced between them. Ellex clattered a little from some indistinguishable motion, but to Lucy’s senses, he seemed intrigued rather than angered.

“Who have I disintegrated today?” he asked.

Lucy thought he might be joking. If he knew how.

“No one,” she said. “I mean, I assume.”

“Miss Skywalker,” said Ellex, in faintly accusing tones, “was suggesting that I move the platforms while she is on them.”

For an instant, Lucy did feel afraid. It wasn’t her fear, though.

Vader sounded perfectly calm as he said, “Hm.”

“That’s why they move, isn’t it?” Lucy asked.

He didn’t answer, but just tilted his head back to examine the platforms. 

“This has got to be a place for a”—she remembered that she wasn’t a Jedi apprentice any more—“for someone with the Force running in them.”

“It was,” he said at last. “Very well. But there will be no acrobatics. For now, you will attempt the leaps, and that is all. Go on.” 

Ellex, with what Lucy suspected was decided droidly pleasure, took up the remote and began to adjust the platforms. Lucy scaled the ladder took her usual leap onto the platforms, then just took a running jump that nearly failed as the new platform shifted towards her instead of away as she’d expected. She managed the next landing, but she did fail the third, only managing to hang on to the edge of the platform by her hands, while her legs dangled in the air. The Force gathered around Vader, though she neither knew nor wanted to know what he intended. She managed to hoist herself up, adrenaline rushing through her. 

With all the stops and starts and adjustments, it took longer than usual to fully open herself to the Force, but once she did, everything became clear. Something in her instincts told her which way the platforms would move before they actually did, and after that, she smoothly ran and sprang from platform to platform until she finally tired out. Lucy made her final jump before the ladder, then let go of the Force, launched herself at the wall—and as the last platform shifted under her feet, she failed.

For real, this time. There was no way to grasp either the platform she’d leapt from or the rungs ahead of her. But she didn’t have time to yell, because she simply stopped moving, her body hanging in the air.

Vader didn’t speak, but as clear as anything, she heard his voice. Do not try to free yourself.

What?

Slowly, she floated down to the floor, and landed with a scuffle of her boots. Well, she hadn’t thought of using that on people. Could she, even? Lucy looked doubtfully at Vader as he strode over to her, the stick in hand.

“That was exceptionally dangerous, young woman,” he said.

She dusted herself off and smiled. “All things are possible with the Force, Father.”

“Not if you release the Force.”

Lucy thought about it. 

“That depends, doesn’t it? After all, it’s still around.”

He now seemed irritated, but also something else she couldn’t pin down. And—curious? 

“Anyway,” she went on, “you were there.”

“I am here,” said Vader grimly, though she wasn’t sure what he meant by it. “Open yourself to the Force.”

“I won’t—”

“I didn’t say the Dark Side,” he said, as if hadn’t ordered her to turn for weeks on end. 

Lucy eyed him with some suspicion, but she trusted that the Light Side would never lead her astray. She breathed in, recalling the moments when every shift of the platforms had fallen into place and her muscles had just seemed to know what to do, and with nothing more than that, it coursed through her. Her weariness faded, a little.

“All right,” she said. 

He dropped the stick into her hand. “Sixth form. Go.”

She almost refused, almost insisted, I can’t, I’m too tired, but remembered just who he was. With a heavy exhalation, she adjusted her feet and shoulders and swung the stick upwards, going through the movements of deflection even though nothing was attacking her. With her hands sweaty and her muscles aching, it seemed particularly pointless.

Still, she dutifully carried out the prescribed movements, feeling rather like a dancing puppet. Vader, as far as she could tell, was pleased, but also dissatisfied in some way.

“Well?” demanded Lucy, lowering the stick and rubbing her arm.

“Good,” he said, “though you will not progress further with a stick and no real opponents.”

“It’s not my fault,” said Lucy.

“That,” said Vader, “is extremely debatable. But it must be changed.”

She blinked, baffled. “How are you going to find opponents for me?”

“Quite easily,” he replied, and reached for something under his cape, then tossed it at her. 

Lucy caught it without thinking—and her hands closed around the hilt of a lightsaber. Lucy stared at it, instantly recognizing the shape and design as the one she’d carried for so long, then lifted her eyes to her father.

“What—”

Vader drew his own—his current—lightsaber and flicked it onwards, its red light jarring in the white and blue room. Lucy took a step back.

He lifted the saber.

“Defend yourself!”

[olivespectersgarden]

Its the Finchwick Chicken Fair, and Brian is trying to help his chances by doing some favors for the Mayor. 

[tophthedaydreamer]

hey, uh, just throwin’ it out there

I’d be glad to do some color palette character requests, mostly because I’m bad at choosing which char I wanna draw next, lol

soooo I have a list of characters I like to draw, you can pick one you want from said list or just suggest a new one! remember to also include which palette you want the character in :D

Important! I will NOT draw mecha, or NSFW characters!!!!! You CAN suggest your oc, but only if they are age appropriate!

here’s the magical list of characters (under the cut)

= Vocaloid =

Hatsune Miku, Kagamine Rin/Len, Megurine Luka, Meiko, Gumi, V4 Flower, Fukase, Piko, and Oliver

= Invader Zim =

Zim, Gir, Dib, Gaz, and Tak

= DuckTales =

Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby, Lena, Boyd, Violet, and Della

= Toons =

Mickey, Minnie, Oswald, Ortensia, Fanny, Bendy, Cuphead, Mugman, Felix, and Betty Boop 

= Steven Universe =

Steven, Pearl, Amethyst, Garnet, Ruby, Sapphire, Peridot, Lapis, Connie, Lars, Sadie, Stevonnie, Pink Pearl/Volleyball, Yellow Pearl, Blue Pearl, Padparadscha, Sardonyx, Smoky Quartz, Rainbow 2.0, Pink Diamond, and Spinel.

= The Beatles =

John, Paul, George, and Ringo

= Moomin =

Snufkin, Little My, Moomintroll, Snorkmaiden, Moominmama, Moominpapa, and The Joxter

= Sonic the Hedgehog =

Sonic, Tails, Amy, Knuckles, Sally, Nicole, Bunnie, Cream, Blaze, Fiona, and Mina (probably more but I keep forgetting)

= Horror =

The Grady Twins, Chucky, Ring Girl/Samara, Jason, and Freddy

= My Little Pony (G4 and G3) =

Twilight, Pinkie, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity, Starlight Glimmer, Derpy, Celestia, Luna, Cadence, Minty, Thistle Whistle, Wisteria, and Lily Lightly.

= Care Bears =

Funshine, Cheer, Grumpy, Good Luck, Share, Tenderheart, Wish, Bedtime, Wonderheart, True Heart, and Noble Heart.