#Elly Roberts

[random-meme-bot]

WE WANT SOME FUN FACTS ABOUT OUR QUEEN ELLY >:DD

Thanks for the ask, glad to see you're enjoying my characters.💜

A few random Fun facts about Elly, some of these were mentioned on a few tags, others are one's I came up with and never posted, there's even some that I was gonna reveal on a one shot crossover with Tangle Tower i'm making that I added here because I don't know when I'm gonna have time to finish it.

Elly is a trans, she named hershelf Elishabeth as a reference to Pirates of the Caribbean. (Which yes, is actually where I got the name.

Fun behind the scenes fact: The name I originally choose for her was "Elaine" in reference to Monkey Island, but I changed it because "Elly" didn't sound quite right as a diminutive of "Elaine".

While her design and overall idea, has changed quite a bit since her original drawin, her design is inspired by "Jenny LeClue"

Her glasses being completely opaque except for the pupils are to reference how she is a middle ground between alive people who I always draw as just pupils, and ghosts who also have eyes.)

She is also aro/ace and absolutly terrible at noticing when someone has a crush on her.

She once woke up in the middle of the night only to find Trucy staring directly at her, since then she always make sure to sleep facing the wall...

While not shown in any drawings due to the long hair, she does have piercings on the ears.

She loves coffee, this is a byproduct of her always staying up longer than she should.

She sometimes falls asleep while working on the bookstore, Dan will usually just posses her to take care of the customers and leave her notes about it.

She has more than once used her ability to see ghost by asking some ghost roaming the school to give her the answers to an exam she hadn't studied for (some people ghosts would do anything just to get acknowledgement from a living person...)

She loves Jazz music and any song with trumpets, saxophone, trombone... (I have a drawing I want to make of her as the "jazz for your soul" meme)

Not gonna give any context just jet, but she does go to a psychologist.

She dosen't like the scar she got from the car accident that gave her the ability to see ghost which is why she dosen't own any clothing that would reveal the abdomen (short shirts, most swimsuits...)

Despite the fact that she isn't usually at home and when she is she stays in her room, she does have a good relationship with her parents.

Despite the fact that it has been years, she still misses her old house.

She is friends with some ghosts that roam around the school, this has resulted in every alive person in the school thinking she talks to hershelf.

Despite On account of her ability to see ghosts, she has a big fear of corpses.

She can handle pressure, but she will hyperventilate when she starts to get too overwhelmed, Dan is helping her so she can deal with it if it happens.

Her hair is uncombable, it dosen't matter what she tries it always goes back to it's messy form.

Favorite station is Autumn.

Favorite color is Purple.

[evermoredeluxe]

this is adorable 🥹 (x)

[peachesandcreames]

It's Not the Plane, It's the Pilots 💞💕

[peacefxlmyko]

I need friends like the TGM cast so badly I mean LOOK AT THEM

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Some more changes in “The Last of Us” TV show that I thought were improvements on the game:

1) Tommy calls Joel to bail him out of jail. It’s a small scene but it does help establish that Joel is the older, more responsible brother while Tommy is the younger, more reckless brother. It gives more dimension to Joel’s line of “I bring you the cure for mankind and you wanna play the pissy little brother”.

2) Joel possibly being a Desert Storm veteran. Because if he was, then his line “you have no idea what loss is” becomes even more tragic since it’s not clear which part of his life he’s talking about. Is he talking about Sarah, surviving the post-apocalypse, or the horrors of the Gulf War? Technically speaking, he could be talking about all three events, which is just incredibly sad.

3) As an add-on for point 2, either Joel or Tommy being a Desert Storm veteran works better for the story since it makes it more believable that the Miller brothers were able to survive for 20 years in the zombie apocalypse.

4) “Che Guevara of Boston”. It’s one line, but it tells you all you need to know about Marlene and the Fireflies. Honestly, I got a better understanding of Marlene through that one line than the explanation in the original game.

5) Tess telling Joel to calm down and that going after Robert will make him go into hiding. I know that might seem trivial but the show is subtly telling us that Joel is incredibly dangerous. In the game, this was established by going into combat as Joel. The show can’t just rely on action scenes since that would screw up the pacing and tone, so the next best way to establish Joel’s badassery is through dialogue. “Robert is scared of you because you’re a dangerous motherfucker, that’s why I need you to chill”, that’s basically what Tess said.

6) Joel beats the guard to death in order to protect Ellie. In this one scene, Joel has already bonded Ellie to his memory of Sarah and Ellie was introduced to Joel’s savagery, which is pretty impressive considering that it’s a scene with no dialogue (for at least that section).

[the-real-lordrisley]

I really hope the third Downton Abbey film allows Thomas to be just a little bit of a cunt again... Just a little bit... A smidge

[llovelymoonn]

on november

nina maclaughlin the paris review: "on the first of november, the ghosts arrive" \\ emily dickinson in a letter to elizabeth holland (early nov, 1865) (via @flowerytale) \\ anna akhmatova rosary \\ philip jenks colony collapse metaphor: "november" \\ robert frost the complete poems: "my november guest" \\ ellis nightingale (@ellisnightingale) \\ @honeytuesday \\ nina maclaughlin the paris review: "the dark feels different in november" \\ l.m. montgomery anne of green gables \\ maggie stiefvater the scorpio races (via @metamorphesque) \\ sylvia plath the unabridged journals of sylvia plath (via @louisegluck)

kofi

[dekaohtoura]

[jimmyspades]

"To figure out a character, I try to look for something that's not in the screenplay—a little secret they carry around with them. Sometimes it's allowed to show itself, sometimes it isn't, yet it's always there.

"Robert Downey Jr. and I both decided that our two guys had been lovers at one point. It wasn't referred to at all, but that was the one choice made in that film that I ended up being pleased with, because it informed everything that happened. There's a certain understanding between two people who've been lovers that's not there in two people who haven't." James Spader on LESS THAN ZERO (1987), Interview Magazine, 1993

[random-meme-bot]

HEXES ON THE SHELVES Chapter 1 cover is finally finished.

Last month I released the first chapter of my OC fic (which you can read here) and before that I mentioned that I wanted to do a title card type of art for it.

After 5 different drawings who got into different levels of progress this idea was the one that ended up sticking with me (it's actually based on version 4)

The drawing itself is based on a certain scene that happens more or less during the middle of the book...

Also HUGE thanks to my friend @meggs-newman for helping me with the angle for the background, as well as serving as a consultant during for the drawing during various parts of it. He's not that active on Tumblr but do check his Instagram.

[cloudyfacewithjam]

Downton Abbey (2019)

[coffeeandcinema]

Brenda Starr (1989). dir. Robert Ellis Miller

[viric-dreams]

Eleanor Roberts, The Dawning Aspirant (she/her)

Born: Rhondda, Wales, September 10, 1849

Occupation: Naval Officer Currently working as a stenographer/newspaper assistant

Closest to: The Admiralty

Qualities: Watchful, Dangerous

Quirks: Steadfast, Ruthless

They say...

No one could ever accuse her of being charismatic, but her earnestness about all she does goes a long way.

Profile below the cut.

Born in a Welsh mining town to a working-class family, she was determined to escape the life set before her and to scrabble up the societal ranks, however possible. When her father died and left her the sole breadwinner for her mother and older sisters, she ran away, unwilling to go down into that same pit and meet the same fate. She would not spend the rest of her life underground.

She ran to London to try to make a new life for herself. London, however, was less than kind to a child from the Valleys, with a strange lilt to her imperfect English. Even amongst the other urchins she was not well-liked, often seen as off-putting. She spent her nights in pubs near the harbour, listening in and imitating the voices and the mannerisms of the officers occupying them. She would have to become like them if she wanted that respect.

At the age of thirteen, she signed on with the Royal Navy as a cabin boy, listing a new, anglicised name to match her new identity. Her captain was kind to her, the first to be in ages.  Things were finally looking up.

And then London Fell.

When the city came crashing down into the Neath, Roberts’ ship had crumpled against the coastline, seriously injuring her and trapping her inside. In the almost two days it took to get her free, her captain had been there, yelling encouraging words to a scared child, one neither of them could be sure would survive the experience. When they’d finally managed to cut her free, to pull her back from the Slow Boat, her fate was sealed—she would follow that man to the ends of the earth.  

Her devotion never wavered. Not even when her captain split from the Admiralty, renaming himself the Commodore. She zailed with him to their new port of call, the Grand Geode, and stood at his side when the Dawn Machine was turned on. For decades, she was his right-hand man, his golden boy, the favourite son. Whatever he needed, she would do, no matter the cost. She would do his dirty work so that he could shine.

Decades passed in the Neath. Then one day, the Commodore called her into his office. He had a task for Lieutenant Roberts: She should sail to London and infiltrate a group of revolutionaries trying to bring about the Liberation of Night. With the group’s name and an alias scrawled onto a piece of paper, she took to Zee.

London, however, had changed much since her last visit almost forty years earlier. Its denizens were not the cheerful, smiling sort she was used to back at her port of call. It wasn’t long before she found herself set upon by a group of criminals, intent on robbery. In the scuffle, however, her dark glasses broke, revealing her dazzling golden eyes. The next thing she knew she had a bag over her head.

She woke up bound in a Benthic basement laboratory, half a dozen scientists watching her intently. She was a Sequencer, they said, clearly controlled by a false Judgement she was forced to serve against her will. But they could cure her—a cure that would free her from her slavish dedication to the sun the sun the sun the sun the sun the sun the s—

She came to in an alleyway, missing both memories and an earlobe. There was something she was assigned to do in London, and she could not disappoint the Commodore. But what? She would find a way to keep herself busy, further the cause. Expand the reach of the New Sequence. Ignore the missing time, the foreign fragments of memories that would hit at unexpected intervals, the rumours of a figure sweeping the Revolutionary circles wearing her face.

Unbeknownst to her, when she wasn’t acting as Lieutenant Roberts, liaison to the Admiralty, she was Mr Nite, climbing her way to January’s good graces, only knowing that her purpose was to help her in her goals, by any means possible. As time went on, their lives seemed to intertwine in unsettling ways. Nite would encounter long-time enemies she’d never before seen. Roberts would have memories of a man whispering words of love into her ear whom she’d never met. Roberts would experience flashes of colour she hadn’t seen in years. Nite would catch fragments of conversations in a language she didn’t know she spoke.

And then their worlds converged too closely, when Nite’s Liberationist activities threatened Roberts’ standing, when Roberts’ hostile encounter with a strange man brought about the end of Nite’s relationship. Nite declared war on her counterpart, determined not to rest until her life was in ruins, at the price of her own relationship with January. And Nite nearly succeeded—Roberts’ life was coming apart. Several of her projects were falling to pieces, a vengeful subordinate firebombed her flat, and she hadn’t heard back from the Commodore in weeks. The memory bleeds were getting worse—more and more flashes of someone in her body doing things she would never do, having feelings she should not have felt.

And then she gets the news. The Commodore is dead. They hadn’t bothered to tell her. Intentionally so. They’d pushed her out. Moved on without her. Left her in London with nothing. Because who is she without the Commodore? Without the Navy? Without the dawnlight coursing through her body, because as those grief-bound weeks went on, something had changed. She’d stopped fighting herself, that shared heartache forcing both sides of herself to come to terms with their singularity, that hurting one would only hurt the other. And without those two forces constantly in opposition… Roberts and Nite began to merge, memories and personalities coming together, draining out the residual dawnlight, leaving her… as her, whomever that might be.

Something wasn’t right, however. There’s no way the Commodore could’ve simply died. Men like him don’t just die. That couldn’t be right. The medical report left by the doctor who’d broken the news didn’t add up. The longer she’d looked at it the longer something didn’t feel right. Because he didn’t just die. He was murdered.

A furious dog set loose, it was not difficult to find the perpetrators—proud of their act. The Commodore had killed the ones they loved. Or more accurately, she had killed them, under his orders. She’d commandeered a ship and chased them halfway across the Zee, deeper and deeper south, until the first rays of dawnlight crested upon her ship as they lined up to fire. But then what? She kills them, then claws her rightful position back at the helm of the Admiralty? More people dead, more loved ones to grieve and to swear vengeance, and for what? For a position she’d never wanted. The dawnlight feels nauseating on the back of her eyes. There’s no comfort to it.

She turned the ship around, London-bound. This time, for good.

What do you do when your whole life and sense of identity is tied up in your job? When the question is never “who are you?”, but “what can you do?”. And who is she, really, when there’s no one else in the picture, and the only person whose opinion, and whose happiness matters is her own? Whereas she’d once changed her name to gain acceptance, when she does it again, it’s for herself. Eleanor. She likes the way it feels on her tongue. With no references, no family, no friends, and almost nothing to her name Eleanor would start again. A new beginning, on her own terms, whatever may come.

[aquavierra]

My personality is based on simping older men either fictional or real ones.

[taylor-on-your-dash]

Bob Orrall shared the handwritten lyrics for Crazier, dated 2004.

I spent the day recently with a French documentary crew, who are making a doc on Taylor’s global cultural influence. It was cool to look back at lyric sheets and photographs from early 2000’s, as well as the amazing “promo package” Taylor made that went out to all the execs to get them down to see her at The Bluebird, where she landed her deal! Thank you @smacna1 for sending them up to sunny Manchester-By-The-Sea.

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[atomic-chronoscaph]

The Trammps (1978)