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adamwatchesmovies · 11 months

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Company of Heroes (2013)

To anyone who ever thought the idea of a Call of Duty or Counter Strike movie might be cool, I present the 2013 adaptation of Company of Heroes. The plot is the definition of generic - basically a checklist of war movie clichés. You don’t care about the characters, you don’t care about the action. Even if the film had ambitions to do more, the budget wouldn't allow it. This is the kind of movie you forget minutes after having finished it.

Near the end of World War II, a squad of American soldiers stumble upon a dying messenger who informs them of a critical mission. The Germans are finalizing the design of an atomic bomb. With their sergeant and most of the company dead, Nate Burrows (Chad Michael Collins) and Dean Ransom (Tom Sizemore) make their way towards the Nazi base.

There is only one interesting scene in all of Company of Heroes. A woman named Kestrel (Melia Kreiling) is about to step into the bathtub and turns to face Nate. The door is open. He’s surprised to see her. She gives him a look. What’s going to happen next? Will she invite him in? If she does, will he accept her invitation? He says he has two sweethearts at home… does he want to make it three? Then the scene ends. That’s it. Is it the nudity that makes this scene exciting? Not really (unless you’re 13). It’s the unknown. You don’t know what’s going to happen next, which is a breath of fresh air. The rest of this film is so predictable, so generic it’s practically a wartime lullaby.

This movie is a bore. The story is realistic - it’s not like Overlord, for example - so you know the Germans will not develop that super weapon. What you’d normally be worried about instead are the characters. Will Ransom make it alive and live up to the memory of his dead father who died in the first Great War? Will Burrows forgive himself for all the lives lost under his command? Even if these tales could hold your interest, the casting makes it impossible. Every soldier looks the same and the camera shakes so much it’s often hard to tell who’s shooting at who. The establishing shots are dreadful and the characterization almost non-existent. You’ll see a soldier fall over dead and think someone important just keeled over but no, it was some random nobody you didn’t even know was there too.

I don’t even think people who consider World War II to be “their favourite” war would enjoy this film… unless they were Americans blinded by patriotism. Most of the people we meet are stereotypes, from the burly Russian (Dimitri Diatchenko) to the gritty Brit (Vinnie Jones) to the slimy-looking Nazi commander with the metal brace on his leg (Richard Sammel). Over and over, the film exaggerates America’s role in the war to the point where - shocker - we learn the Nazis are planning on dropping their atomic bomb… on New York! Why a city overseas instead of a much-closer target like say… London? Because this movie thinks you’re a moron that won’t care about anything outside of the U.S.A.

The special effects are unconvincing but this flaw might’ve been forgivable had the rest of the picture been strong. Thing is, no writer would ever commit their good war story to a video game when just about any generic plot would do the trick. That’s why this film was basically doomed from the start. Company of Heroes has no opinion about the war, it has nothing to add to the conversation, it doesn’t have any new perspectives or a new story to tell. It has no reason to exist except to cash-in on a name. It’s a sure-fire way to make you fall asleep and little else. (May 1, 2020)

#Company of heroes #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #don michael paul #danny bilson #paul de meo #david reed #tom sizemore #chad michael collins #vinnie jones #dimitri diatchenko #neal mcdonough #sam spruell #jurgen prochnow #2013 movies #2013 films

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statelies · 3 years

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( * 💀 / jessie mei li, questioning, she/they ) — is that emmeline vance i just saw rushing down the corridor? i hear they’re a twenty year old hufflepuff, returning for their sixth school year, but their friends would tell you that they are industrious & compassionate as well as blunt & graceless. if you want to know more about them, i guess i could tell you that they’re muggleborn, and from what i hear, they’re currently allying with the order. when our divination professor looks into their crystal ball, they see: falling asleep studying over open books, split open pomegranates, working under flickering candlelight, casual intimacy between friends, a kitchen full of laughter.

CHARACTER INSPIRATION: Izzie Stevens (Grey’s Anatomy), Callie Torres (Grey’s Anatomy) (+ Sara Ramirez, the they/she icon we all deserve), Kara Danvers (Supergirl), Charles Boyle (Brooklyn 99), Alina Starkov (Shadow and Bone), Janet (Not a Girl) (The Good Place), Penelope Garcia (Criminal Minds).

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Implied Racism.

LINKS: Pinterest. Playlist (Coming Soon).

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

I N T R O

full name ➵ Emmeline Huan Vance

nicknames ➵ Emmy; Emma; Line; Em; Melly; Melsy; Vance; Hurricane

pronouns ➵ she/they/her/them

birthdate / age ➵ October 24th, 1959, 09:47 am / 20 years old

birthplace ➵ Brighton, East Sussex

childhood home ➵ Unknown home in Brighton, East Sussex — 162 Orchard Croft, Harlow, Essex

current residence ➵ Hogwarts, Scotland

religion ➵ agnostic; paternal grandparents were Methodist ( Protestant ) while maternal grandparents were also Christian

occupation ➵ full - time student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

P H Y S I C A L

height ➵ 5 feet, 2 inches / 157.5 cm

weight ➵ 48 kg / 106lb

body type ➵ hourglass shaped figure

hair ➵ dark brown, bordering on black; soft and wavy

eye color ➵ dark brown

dominant hand ➵ right

FC ➵ Jessie Mei Li

voice ➵ Jessie Mei Li

special characteristics ➵

small waist

has a birthmark on her right ankle that looks like an apple

pierced septum

smells of ➵

lavender hand lotion

pomegranate

cardamom, jasmine and orange blossom perfume

E M O T I O N A L

zodiac ➵ scorpio sun (x); sagittarius rising; cancer moon

MBTI ➵ ISFJ (“The Defender”)

positive traits ➵ industrious; compassionate; generous; warmhearted; benevolent; selfless; observant; honest; personable; kind.

negative traits ➵ blunt; graceless; meticulous; well-meaning; impatient; internalizes feelings; oversensitive; tactless; overbearing; clumsy.

likes ➵ Pumpkin pasties; duelling club; laughter; the rush of incoming patients; cooking for friends; Ballycastle Bats; Diagon Alley; being barefoot at the beach; roadtrips; apple juice; hugs from friends; nicknames; vanilla candles; the heat of a boiling cauldron; Sugar Quills; warm sweaters; pizza; pomegranate seeds; cheek kisses; taking photographs; finishing essays early; coffee with milk and two sugars; Queen; Aston Villa; cats

dislikes ➵ spam (the food); apparition; the Daily Prophet; starless nights; Kenmare Kestrels; karaoke; losing bets; skinned knees; snakes; pigeons; the colour fuschia (it’s too bright); ticking clocks; banana flavouring; funerals; Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans; Celestina Warbeck; mayonnaise; blue M&Ms; her lao ye; the word mudblood; leprechauns; fans of Kenmare Kestrels; losing football matches; witch Halloween costumes; rugby

amortentia ➵

birthday cake

fresh mint

old books

orange blossom

M A G I C

blood status ➵ muggleborn

wand ➵ Aspen, dragon heartstring core, 8 inches, hard

wand-quality aspen wood is white and fine-grained, and highly prized by all wand-makers for its stylish resemblance to ivory and its usually outstanding charmwork. The proper owner of the aspen wand is often an accomplished duellist, or destined to be so, for the aspen wand is one of those particularly suited to martial magic. An infamous and secretive eighteenth-century duelling club, which called itself The Silver Spears, was reputed to admit only those who owned aspen wands. In my experience, aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.

patronus ➵ Hippo

E D U C A T I O N

Hogwarts class ➵ Hufflepuff, 1981

extracurriculars ➵

Hufflepuff Prefect / September 1979 - June 1981

Herbology Club & Greenhouse Keepers / September 1977 - June 1981

Toothill Duelling Club / September 1979 - June 1981

Wenlock Study Club / September 1979 - June 1981

courses & exams ➵

Ancient Runes - O

Astronomy - E

Charms - O

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

Herbology - O

History of Magic - O

Muggle Studies - O

Potions - O

Transfiguration - O

Care of Magical Creatures - E

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

health ➵

walnut allergy

hayfever

pets ➵

Jíngyi; the long-eared owl

Shu; the white cat

handwriting ➵ Abuget

F A M I L Y

Deirdre (née Wilkinson) Vance ➵ paternal grandmother; retired nurse; deceased May. 1980

Edward Vance ➵ grandfather; retired soldier and miner; deceased Jan. 1980

Xiulan Wong ( Wong Xiulan ) ➵ maternal grandmother (lao lao); homeschooled; housewife; alive

Da Wong ( Wong Da ) ➵ maternal grandfather (lao ye); homeschooled; shop-owner; alive

Dr. Cillian Vance ➵ father; worked for/with the Red Cross UK (and the Hong Kong Red Cross); alive

Mei (née Wong) Vance ➵ mother; teaching assistant; alive

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌

emmeline had always known they were different. at first, it was because of her skin, the way she looked and spoke and could never find anyone to play with on the playground, her chinese middle name and her lao lao being the one to pick her up from school every morning. she would cry to her mother at night, cling to her arms like they were the port keeping her safe from the storm, and listen to her father sing, voice warm and tender as she drifted to sleep, but she never got the answers for why she was treated differently — never got answers for why she was the only non-white child in her school, never got answers for why they hated her so much, hated her existence. but she weathered through primary school, finding her footing in secondary school with her only friend, aisha, who never cared that she was different, that sometimes she could do things that nobody else seemed able to do, that she’d been encouraged to always tell the truth, nothing but the truth, that sometimes she’d say things that hurt, things that stung even though she never meant for them to.

for a while, the feeling of being wholly different faded, or at least, emmeline didn’t notice it quite so prominently anymore, and then suddenly it appeared again — but this time it had been because she didn’t know if she always felt like a girl. not a girl in the traditional sense, anyway, not some days. she liked dresses and fancy heeled shoes and tiaras, but found herself equally at home in plaid shirts and her father’s way-too-big suit jacket and kicking around a football, and for a half-asian barely a teenage… person (she’s still working on it), suspended constantly between two identities, it confused them (even though they’re perfectly aware now that those things are superficial, but the feeling still remains). the only person they ever talked to about it back then was aisha — their lifeline, their best friend, the one their parents reluctantly approved of because they had been so lonely for so long. while aisha was crushing on boys, sweaty and loud and just this side of too teasing, and starting to wear makeup and changing herself, emmeline was trying to find where she fit in, trying to understand who she was, who she is, why they feel so different.

in the midst of all that, emmeline’s letter to hogwarts came. just another difference for emmeline to feel, the knowledge that they have magic was unexpected and tore her family in two. the family she loved - her mother, her father, her lao lao and lao ye, and granny and pops - all had differing opinions on whether or not to accept it, whether or not to send them to school and deal with the fact, up front, that emmeline was, and always would be, special. in the end, emmeline’s pops snuck her out, following instructions from a professor mcgonagall, to find diagon alley, the place where emmeline suddenly felt she fit in. she could feel the magic in the air, could feel it almost crackling in the space around her, almost inviting her in. of course, it took some time — a little too much time, really — to buy everything she needed, and when she cried into her ice cream on the way home, overwhelmed and tired and feeling so many things, he was the one who held her all the way home.

he and their granny were the only ones there to send them off the hogwarts that first year, their parents reluctant to accept anything so unnatural about their child, but emmeline hardly cared at the time (even though it hit them later that night and they sobbed into their pillow), too excited to remember to even wave, too excited to remember to cry because she was leaving behind the only friend she’d ever truly known, and when they saw hogwarts, that castle appearing, they just knew. they were home. she knows, after years and years of being torn between two identities on so many different fronts, that people aren’y happy she’s here, happy she has magic, happy she calls this place her home away from home, that she laughs loud at the hufflepuff table and wears yellow and black face paint for quidditch matches and tried out for the muggle football team, but there’s nothing they can say to change who she is, her pride in the blood flowing through her veins, in the magic at her fingertips. emmeline’s always known they’re different, but having magic, being home at hogwarts, is the first time she’s ever felt proud to be so.

#revelio.intro #emmeline;#god this is actually a mess but i am way too tired to deal with it #SDFKJDSF #so! here's. something ig. i'll decide if i hate this after i pass out and wake up tomorrow lmfao #implied racism cw #racism cw #i guess????#it's mentioned so briefly.#but #better safe than sorry

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stormcrawler75 · 4 years

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if it hasn't been done yet (re the bad things happenbingo) could I ask for either amputation or damaged wing(s) with Remus please? I love what you've done with the prompts so far

Warnings: Amputation, hospitals, diseases, talk of surgery.

Characters: Remus, Patton, mentions of Roman, Logan, Virgil, and Janus.

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Hospitals smelt like absolute, sterilized shit.

Remus couldn’t fucking stand hospitals. Just the smell alone made Remus want to stay far away from hospitals for his entire life. Like, Remus got it. The people who worked there saved lives and the world would probably die without them. But Remus really hated hospitals. Maybe the problem was that they didn’t get enough money? Or that usually only shitty things happened at hospitals? Or maybe because of how many times Remus had been in one recently and he had only gotten shitty fucking news?

Whatever. No matter the reason, hospitals were still at the top of Remus’ shit list at the moment.

Plus, the gowns were itchy. Though, that might just be Remus’ opinion. He currently had one tied around in and was lying in a bed, waiting impatiently for the stupid kiddie clock - which was actually pretty cool because it was shaped like an octopus - hung on the opposite wall to hit three o’clock. Remus was so ready for this to be over with so he could go back home. Roman had promised to make whatever he wanted for dinner when Remus came back and Remus was so craving pancakes with cheese sauce.

Remus sighed and glanced over at his Dad, who was sitting next to him and reading a battered old Highlights magazine. “How much longer,” he whined, giving Patton his best pout. “We’ve been waiting here forever!”

“We’ve been waiting here for two hours, Sweetie,” Patton said gently, putting the magazine down on his knee. He glanced at the clock hanging opposite from them. “Well, it looks like you only got about twenty more minutes to go, Hon. Are you nervous?”

The question had been asked so many times by so many people lately that Remus could barely manage a scoff. “Me? Nervous? Nah, not at all! Hey, it’ll be pretty cool, if you think about it!” He forced a gasp and grabbed Patton’s wrist. “Do you think they’ll film it? Could I watch it later!?”

Patton laughed and shook his head fondly. “I don’t think so, Kiddo. But I’ll ask your doctor, okay? But if we do get it then no showing your siblings, okay? Especially don’t let Virgil catch you watching it, he would have nightmares for weeks. He’s already so worried about today.”

Remus’ jaw clenched at the memory of his two-year-old brother sobbing just a few hours ago and trying to cling to Remus’ hand. Virgil hated hospitals just as much as Remus and, unlike Remus, he didn’t have the maturity and wisdom that Remus had to understand why he hated them or remember just how long he had spent there as a baby. “He doesn’t have any reason to worry,” Remus spat, hating the pit of fear that was growing in his gut. “The doctors said that this is the best option for me and even if I’ll have to do therapy and stuff, I should be just fine.”

“Oh, Honey, he’s only a toddler, he doesn’t understand what’s happening,” Patton said gently, taking Remus’ hand and squeezing it. “All he understands is that his big brother is in pain and is going away to a scary place and is going to come back without one of his legs. He’s much too young to know what osteomyelitis is.”

“I’m fourteen and I don’t even fully understand what this stupid disease is,” Remus muttered, crossing his arms. So many people had tried explaining it to him and all Remus fully understood was that some stupid fungi had injected his right leg bone and they had caught it so late that amputation was the only option. “But I know that he shouldn’t be worried. It’ll be fine and he didn’t need to be crying so much. Logan and Roman weren’t crying.”

And, no, Remus wasn’t disappointed that Logan and Roman - old enough to understand what was happening - didn’t cry like Virgil had or looked worried. Not that there was any reason to be worried but it would’ve been nice for them to pretend to be worried!

Patton squeezed his hand again, looking down at him sympathetically. “Trust me, kiddo, they were crying plenty last night. Logan’s been looking up the operation ever since he learnt what you have and Roman is so scared about his twin. They were trying to be strong for you, that’s-”

“But there’s no reason to be worried,” Remus cried, throwing out his arms in frustration. “There isn’t, I’m going to be fine and there’s no reason for anyone to worry!” His eyes were filling with sudden tears and his jaw trembled with the force of keeping them back. “I-I’m gonna come home and annoy everyone a-and t-they don’t need to worry ‘bout me cause I am gonna be f-fine!” He sobbed and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, images of all the things that could go wrong flashing through his mind.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him forward until he was leaning against his dad’s chest. “Shhh, shhhh, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” Patton cooed, rubbing a hand up and down Remus’ back. “You’re gonna be fine, kiddo.”

“They’re gonna take my leg,” Remus sobbed, gripping Patton’s shirt so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “D-don’t let them take my leg, don’t let them, Papa!”

“Oh, Kiddo,” Patton sighed, resting his cheek on the top of Remus’ head and holding him close. “Sweetheart, I wish I could stop them from taking your leg. If I could, I’d take this infection and put it in my own leg so you wouldn’t have to lose yours. But I can’t, Sweetie, and I’m so sorry. And I know this is very scary but I’ll be right outside the room the entire time. And I’m going to buy you the best prosthetic that money can buy, I promise.”

Remus sniffled and he rubbed at his eyes, looking up at Patton sadly. “O-one with some design?”

Patton gave him a wobbly smile and nodded, kissing Remus’ forehead. “I’ll buy you two. A plain one and one with any design that you want on it. We’ll do it together, okay baby?”

“Okay,” Remus sniffled, leaning back against Patton and closing his eyes. “...How long now?”

“...Two minutes.”

Remus’ breath hitched and he fought back the urge to vomit. It’d be hilarious but then they’d have to wait even longer for this surgery to take place. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly. “I’m so scared, Papa.”

“I’ll be right outside the surgery room and I’ll be right there when you wake up,” Patton promised softly, sounding like he was holding back tears. It made Remus want to dig a hole in the ground and cry. He was making his Papa cry. “And as soon as the Doctors say you’re ready, we’ll go home and see your brothers and Uncle Janus, okay?”

Remus sniffled and nodded, wiping away the tears trailing down his cheeks.”Okay,” he whispered. He let out a shaky breath and forced a smile. “It’ll be okay.”

“Remus?” The two of them turned to see a Doctor and a Nurse waiting for them. “We’re ready for you.”

Remus glanced at Patton nervously and got a confident smile in return. “You’ll be okay,” Patton said, looking so sure that he might as well had been saying that the sky was blue. “I’ll be right next to you when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” Remus said softly, turning to the Doctor and Nurse. “I’m ready.”

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#Storm writes #tw Amputation #tw hospitals #tw diseases #tw talk of surgery #Remus Sanders #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Janus Sanders #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Anonymous

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firstginger · 4 years

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Hello! Been seeing some of your daemon analyses going around and I love the thought you put into them! Was curious if you were up for it if you might have any thoughts for me- I'm a 3w2 enneatype, INTJ- I veer towards birds which the daemon quiz seems to agree with with the raptor family, but if you wanted would love to hear any additional thoughts! Have a good day!

thank you so much, that really means a lot to hear people like them! :)

raptors are a great fit! there are so many i was totally unable to fit on the quiz, but honestly most members of accipitridae are going to be fantastic for INTJs, i think pretty stereotypically the red-tailed hawk, american kestrel, eleonora’s falcon, etc. they only ones i don’t associate with INTJ as much are most eagles... eagles are large and powerful birds of prey, often characterized as ambitious and confident, the sort of person who can be blunt, assertive, and forceful. eagles seem very xSTP to me.

however eagles also strike me as so strongly enneagram 3s or 8s, so i was actually thinking snake eagles might be a great fit for you? these birds of prey are just an incredible group of species: patient, observant, efficient, and incredibly skilled. this is a species that feeds on cobras and black mambas. they’ve got the ambition and confidence of a 3 and the sharp intuition and strategy of an INTJ. here are a few species you might be interested in:

bateleur bateleurs are such amazing birds i can't get over it. these individuals are definitely going to be introverted but not averse to socializing in the least; they're confident, unflappable, and expressive, utterly strong-willed people who have no problem asserting themselves. they are private and can be confrontational. they have notoriously high standards but for those who have made it to their inner circle and past their strong boundaries, they're actually very dedicated and cooperative people who are steadfast friends. they're efficient workers who are exploitive but steady: the epitome of work smarter not harder, and they tend to get tunnel vision when they work. definitely ambitious but they're not the anxious type and have a relaxed and confident attitude. they excel in their area and while they can be adaptable, they prefer to be creatures of habit and can be stubborn about change.

crested serpent eagle again someone who's going to be introverted and private, but definitely more cliquish and devoted to loved ones. you're going to see high standards again with this species, but this is someone much more group-oriented and cooperative. generally tolerant of social situations and has no problem navigating them. definitely a showy and confident person, i'd expect someone with this daemon to be rather honest and opinionated. certainly someone who is unflappable and not at all modest. their work style is very ambitious, thorough, and innovative. they're going to be diligent workers but again not multitaskers and tend to become obsessive and single-minded over one topic. these guys are intuitive problem solvers and likely like that degree of challenge in their life. they’re opportunistic and adaptable, overall a very ambitious person who is confident they can excel.

philippine eagle an introverted and private person but one who is extremely loyal and devoted to their loved ones. they're open to cooperation and may be more sentimental than your typical bird of prey. definitely the type of person to be vocal and expressive when the situation calls for it. they’re not at all shy about stating their opinion — as you’d expect, they’re not lacking in confidence. a very opportunistic and adaptable person, they feel very confident in and out of their niche and have no problems adapting to change, so long as they have a plan for it. they’re highly intuitive and problem solvers, and have a fair bit of curiosity and playfulness that may contribute to that potential of open-minded adaptability. while they’re assertive people, they’re not stubborn, and probably the most flexible species of the three.

if those types of birds of prey aren’t sitting with you, perhaps the secretary bird? they're very similar in terms of social flexibility, that confident showiness, and selective loyalty to loved ones. also proud with high standards. can definitely be assertive and stubborn, and tend to be a little direct and judgmental. they're hardy and have no issues adapting to change. i'd expect a pretty thick line between loved ones and acquaintances/strangers for these guys — they're very ambivalent about those outside of their circle. even though i'd consider them loyal, they're not the best at showing emotional attachment. they can act aloof and be a little self-centered, and are often thinking a few steps ahead in terms of how friends can pay them back for a favor.

also if you’re not so interested in raptors, check out corvids! common raven (introverted but socially flexible, close-knit friends, slow to trust, charismatic and charming, competitive, habitual, opportunistic, very expressive, capable of manipulation, and very much problem solvers), new caledonian crow (socially flexible, gregarious around friends, loyal and dedicated, opportunistic, resourceful, assertive, cooperative, inventive and intuitive, socially savvy, problem solvers, curious, perceptive, and manipulative), and thick-billed raven (more introverted and independent, opportunistic, resourceful, adaptable, problem solver and good at planning ahead, socially aware, expressive and communicative, innovative and inventive, confident and bold) would be my top suggestions.

#hdm #form finding #daemonism #intj

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rosewood-writes-and-reviews · 4 years

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How I would write Season 3 of The Animals of Farthing Wood:

This is just my opinion on this season of the show, I’m just fixing things that I personally don’t like about the third season. If you like this season, that’s good!

My version of Season 3:

The two general problems with this season is the story and characters. For the story, let’s not have Owl leave to find a mate. Instead, we have her give words of wisdom back when she and the animals made the trip to White Deer Park after the leader of the White Deers gets poisoned. Instead of Whistler witnessing the elder white stag get poisoned, it’s Kestrel who witnesses the poisoning and then tells Whistler the horrible news. Both birds go to Fox about the elder stag’s death and Fox gathers everyone for a meeting and Owl will have to give them words of wisdom until the white deer gets a new leader. Meanwhile, Adder starts to grow bored of being on Farthing Land and goes to a different part of the park and meets another snake named Sinuous. Adder decides that she wants to leave the park since no one will miss her anyway and went with Sinuous to an entirely different place away from the park. The rats take advantage of the fact that the snakes are gone from the park and start their reign of terror one small step at a time.

Replacing the Weasel and Measely subplot with the Adder and Sinuous subplot, we have them living their lives in a different forest and eating plenty of food. Adder and Sinuous are both expecting baby adders in the process. Adder suddenly has the instinct to go back home to the Park, but doesn’t want to disappoint her new mate. Sinuous does catch on that Adder is home sick and he agrees to go back to the park with her. On their way back however, she actually gives birth to two new adders. Now that there’s two more snakes, the park now has more help. Adder gets a hero’s welcome and she introduces her children. The rats aren’t too pleased with the fact that there are two more snakes and the next day, they kill Sinuous. Before they could get to Adder’s children, the badgers ambush the rats and call out for Adder, saying that her mate is dead. Feeling anger and sadness, Adder vows to avenge her mate. She now has a motivation to fight off the rats.

The new white stag is a younger, mean and arrogant stag named Trey who has a big ego. He views white deers as superior and animals like the foxes inferior and often makes fun of them. Aside from insulting the animals, he doesn’t go too far. There will be one scene where he’ll try to save a random Farthing Wood Animal from danger, but his pride will get in the way and the animal ends up injured. It’s that same pride that will end up getting him trapped between the ground and a tree. Trey tries to pry himself out from under the tree because he thinks he’s very strong, but he can only be saved by three other stags who agree that there needs to be a new leader. After being saved by the other stags and animals, he goes somewhere to heal up for a bit. He sees the mice about to attack the Farthing Land and warns Fox and the others about the upcoming attack. He also slowly overtime becomes more kinder while still maintaining his cocky personality. He also personally thanks the other stags for helping him in his time of need and supports the current stag leader. He actually does try to help the other animals attack the rats, but they are still outnumbered. That is until Adder and her children arrive. Adder attacks Bully from behind by biting him and letting the venom seep into his veins, dying a slow painful death. Then she eats him. A more satisfying way for the villain to be defeated. The other rats have either retreated or died, which gives the Farthing a Wood animals their victory.

The victory feels hollow however. In the process of the battle Fox collapses from exhaustion, his old age catching up to him. Vixen begs for him not to go, but he keeps saying that his time is up. His grandson, son-in-law and two children gather around him with the other Farthing Wood animals. He thanks everyone for being with him on his journey even when they doubted him at first. He thanks his mate Vixen for staying with him through touch times in the park, and he thanks his children and tells them that he loves them and gives heartfelt advice to Ranger and Charmer, who are expecting kids. He even makes Ranger the new leader for the Farthing Wood animals. His final words are “Thank you all,” before he finally passes. Everyone mourns his death and even make a grave for him. Trey is also there to give the animals his condolences. He says that he heard great things about Fox and even said that the animals were lucky to have a leader like Fox. He also tells the animals that there’s more land for the park if anyone wants to move their home someplace else. He wishes Ranger luck on his role as the new Farthing Wood leader.

The season ends on a bittersweet note with Vixen in a sad tone narrating the next moments, hinting at more adventures in White Deer park before fading to black.

And that was my rewrite of Season 3 of the Animals of Farthing Wood. I thought about rewriting and fixing things that were problematic in my opinion after I do a review of a game, movie or show.

#animals of farthing wood #animation #tv show #rewrite

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clever-and-unique-name · 5 years

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🖤💀🕳 for the DID ask page, please. Hopefully I'm not too late. Have a nice day!

You’re not too late, thank you for the asks. ^^

🖤 - How many alters do you have? Can you tell me about them?

We have just over a dozen known parts. Some of them aren’t named or very well identified yet, but I’ll talk a bit about the parts we do know about. (Usually I don’t like listing us out like this, but I’m going to take a deep breath and give it a shot.)

Razael (me) - The others have called me “home base” before...they say I’m the glue that holds everyone together. I’m generally around when things are more or less stable, and I try to make sure everyone is more or less getting along.

Tristan - They’re a bit like a “big brother” figure. They’re typically pretty easygoing and can be a bit silly/immature at times. When they get angry, they’re not afraid to show it.

Moss - She’s one of our youngest parts--headstrong, quiet, caring, and insightful are words that come to mind. She has a strong affinity for plants right now because we don’t have a pet at the moment, but she very much lives to nurture things.

Reki - She is one of our young teenagers, around 13 years old. She’s very in-touch with her emotions, particularly sadness. I think she cries the most out of all of us...she doesn’t think of it as a sign of weakness, just “authentically experiencing her feelings.”

Abel - She experiences emotions as an annoying nuisance, and prefers to approach things logically. Maintaining relationships is a bit like balancing equations to her. She puts our needs above everyone else’s, and is very wary of being manipulated.

Astrid - Abel, but stuck in our teenage years. She’s often cynical, angry, and impatient with everyone else, including us. She’s highly mistrustful of anyone who shows kindness.

Kestrel - I don’t know much about her. She’s usually very dissociated when she appears, and hides behind Abel.

Diego - An older teenager, and easily the most extroverted out of all of us. She’s very bright, outgoing, and cheerful--loves talking to people and making connections.

Scholar - As her name implies, she’s very academics-oriented. A young adult, she loves to research and present information, and educate other people. Unlike many of us, she is very confident in her information and opinions.

“Numb” - She appears when we’re extremely overwhelmed. She believes that she is not a real person, and attempts to extinguish our needs in order to survive.

Mal - Primarily an internal presence, he is extremely protective of our younger parts in particular. He shows them limitless patience and compassion, and it seems like his only goal is to help them with whatever they’re going through.

Rin - One of our youngest parts. She’s the “always happy” child, eager to make others smile.

Iris - Primarily an internal presence. She mostly observes and provides some insight every now and then. Mostly she is the keeper of our inner world--making sure it stays safe and that everyone is equal there.

💀 - Have any of your alters ever integrated or disappeared?

I couldn’t say for sure. I’ve only been keeping track for about a year. I do know that there’s at least one of us missing from early childhood, but I can’t reach her yet.

🕳️ - Do you ever lose time? If so, how does it affect your life?

Yes. It happens pretty frequently for me specifically. Sometimes just an hour, sometimes an entire morning, sometimes I’ll lose weeks at a time. Yesterday I came back and couldn’t remember anything from the past week. Abel filled me in on some key things, and the rest I just wrote off as “I guess it was fine if she didn’t tell me about it.”

I won’t lie, it can be really challenging. Someone can have a conversation with our husband in the morning and I won’t remember anything about it later that day, which gets frustrating for him. We make use of google apps (calendar and Keep, mostly) to make sure we stay on top of appointments and such. But it makes things feel unpredictable, and time seems to jump ahead too often. It’s very unsettling at best, and destabilizing at worst.

-- Razael

#answering asks #Anonymous

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ariesmode · 5 years

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as requested by @kestrel-of-herran ❤️

nikolai, the triumvirate, the twins and also nadia (henceforth known as the palace squad) are all twenty-somethings having the worst (best) time of their lives rebuilding something that was on its way to become a failed state, which is pretty scary, so their meetings are never 100% serious. some headcanons on what probably went down:

nikolai’s first meeting with zoya, genya and david was basically everyone acting like they knew exactly what should be done (rebuild the second army!!), but they really had no fucking idea how to go about doing things and were like “let’s just make shit up as we go along for now, I guess”

ofc nikolai had a vague idea/plan, and zoya was probably up with some suggestions on matters like how to deal with the people who defected from the crown etc but they just had the realization that this was going to be really, really hard

obviously zoya was the one who suggested that they use the darkling’s war room for their secret meeting because she’s that petty (“that sounds like a wonderful idea” – nikolai, equally petty)

zoya, genya and david like these meetings so much more than the ones at the grand palace because they get to be candid and not deal with cabinet ministers who are only condescending to them because they’re grisha and “too young” to actually know anything. they can hold against snide comments well enough on their own, but it is pretty annoying to listen to an old hag talk about how he has more experience than them every single time

(zoya calmly reminded him that his experience has only been sitting in war rooms in a seat that was granted to him only by his privilege as nobility and not merit while she has personally been on the battlefield, thank you very much. genya cackled so much when the meeting was over)

nikolai also likes these better because there aren’t any mind games. they all know exactly what they want and aren’t afraid of challenging him, especially commander nazyalensky

it’s also never been really specified in the books, but i like to think that: david obviously specializes in military engineering, while genya organizes state events (nikolai was very impressed with how she handled his coronation) and oversees training in the little palace along with zoya, who also took on handling grisha matters abroad that are of interest to the state (imo it’s also pretty obvious that she’s the de facto leader of the triumvirate and it’s just not my bias talking)

the meetings sometimes stretch for hours on end – especially in the beginning when they had so much work to do – and it really is exhausting so at some point they start getting distracted and talking/doing some ridiculous stuff

david hardly pays attention half the time (his mind starts wandering when they’re talking about something that isn’t science or grisha-related) though sometimes he’ll just randomly give his opinion about something he doesn’t even know about and it actually makes sense

they’ve all definitely dozed off at some point, except for tamar and zoya. nobody knows how they do it

before the poetry ban tolya could be persuaded to recite epic poems for a long time (“we have WORK to do” “we could do more of that later but that last verse was intriguing tolya please do go on”)

and then they’d end up having a literary analysis discussion that tolya is all too happy to lead, which zoya pretends she can’t be bothered to participate in and they think david isn’t paying attention but then he’ll end up giving his own take and everyone’s like, well that was a good point, how did we miss that?

there was a chess tournament once. everyone immediately agreed that it should never happen again

david, nikolai and nadia, as the respective science nerds™ get really excited explaining new inventions. occasionally they’ll even come up with a brand new design on the spot, which would be pretty impressive if they hadn’t gotten completely sidetracked

nikolai once accidentally doodled on a Very Important document and they’ve never let him forget it

tread carefully when zoya and/or genya are hungover the morning after they’ve had a drinking session or there will be consequences. nikolai learned the hard way

tamar flexing that she and nadia are the first to get married because why not (they have definitely been told to get a room at least once because they’re so disgustingly cute)

genya planned the wedding, of course. they + adrik were the only ones present but that doesn’t matter, it’s still a wedding so it counts as something to be planned. yes, tolya cried

speaking of: adrik definitely tried to eavesdrop on their meetings at some point. we all know that didn’t end well for him

everyone has since learned that it’s not recommended to question genya when it comes to her plans for events. except when it comes seating arrangements, and even then you’d be on thin ice (this is especially so when it came to her wedding ceremony)

one word: hangman (plus crossword puzzles from the ravkan daily)

nikolai called zoya by her last name for the first time during a very long meeting about funding for grisha things while everyone else was half-asleep/already snoozing. needless to say that jolted everyone awake and raised eyebrows

genya whispering to tamar like did i hear that right. are my ears deceiving me and tamar is like no he actually did that and zoya didn’t even care (while they continued to argue)

the banter (flirting) was funny at first but now the ust has become absolutely unbearable and they’re all just suffering. nadia hates them both so much. tolya reminds her that she’s not even present for all of their meetings and “imagine having to witness all of THAT [angry hand gesture] every day when you’re by the king’s side!” + nobody is profiting from genya’s betting pool which makes it worse

the silence™ when nikolai casually told zoya that he wanted her to be the one to lock him up every night when he started escaping from the palace as night mode nikolai would be remembered for years to come

when zoya had to go off to recruit more grisha overseas the rest of the group took turns to read her missives out loud in their best zoya impersonation. they all unanimously agreed that genya and (shockingly) tolya could not be surpassed. they just missed her a lot!

talking shit about some of the old hags that they have to deal with and gossiping about palace drama because tamar’s spies always end up learning... interesting stuff

also talking shit about the lantsovs because wow a) worst rulers in the history of ever b) all that inbreeding LMFAOOOO c) some rooms in the grand palace were really badly decorated. and have you seen some of the heirlooms?! so ugly!

squaller² bringing up stories from their training days: nadia talks about them having a rivalry and zoya is like pfft, i never even considered you as one

tolya and tamar sharing embarrassing childhood anecdotes when they’re getting annoyed with each other

LOOK, I REFUSE TO BELIEVE TOLYA DOESN’T HAVE HIS OWN FANCLUB IN BOTH THE LITTLE AND GRAND PALACE. POSSIBLY EVEN IN OS ALTA. he is a tall, Strong and Silent™ man who is loyal to the king and really likes poetry!! he definitely makes people swoon!! nikolai, genya and tamar love teasing him about this especially. it embarrasses him

on a more serious note, nikolai, genya and david are always the more optimistic when it comes to dealing with politics. tamar and zoya are the more pragmatic ones, and tolya and nadia are somewhere in between

the ravkan economy is in a very sorry state and it’s absolutely depressing so the least they can do is make jokes about how everyone’s too broke to do anything ever

“Your Majesty, how’s the budget?” – nadia “HA, what budget?” – zoya

a few years down the road they’ll start wondering when, exactly, did they start looking forward to these meetings because state affairs were something of an escape from the very exhausting job of parenting

#kos #zoyalai #this is not so serious im sorry jdoisjf #and got too long #and isn't exactly about what goes on in them #anyway can you believe they're running a country #and not just any country! FANTASY RUSSIA #please help them #i'm including nadia here bc i love her and bc i can #i just really like their dynamics a lot where is the workplace comedy au #(also slowly going through my drafts atm)

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siriuslyxpadfoot · 5 years

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Yearbook Memories: Sirius Black’s early days at school

Sirius became the cocky, arrogant boy surrounded by friends and mostly able to avoid consequences. But he was not always that boy.

Sirius flinched at his mother’s sharp tone. She wasn’t happy, but that was nothing new. Generally his mother was less likely to hurt him in public than his father, but he couldn’t be sure, especially now. She was about to lose the opportunity to punish him until Christmas, and she hated anywhere with muggles.

“And another thing,” she snapped, continuing the lecture he hadn’t really been listening to. “I expect top marks in every subject. Your father floundered potions when he was in school. I have forgiven him for the inadequacy, but I expect no such struggles from you. If a subject is hard, you study or find ways to work the system in your favorite.”

To cheat, she meant, and Sirius looked down to avoid letting her see the defiance in his eyes. While he was willing to make choices that didn’t necessary mean playing by the rules, he didn’t like to do them at other people’s expense.

“Your friends will be another matter,” she continued, oblivious or at least willing to ignore the frustration radiating off her eldest. He’d long since learned that talking back in public was one of the worst punishments she would dish out, so Walburga didn’t have to worry about Sirius being smart with her now. “Delilah Rosier is in your year. The Rosier family are very important. Try to make a good impression. The Mulcibers are a year older than you, as is the Selwyn boy. Don’t be stupid and make the kind of comment that almost led the McNair boy to kill you last year. Based on what you said, perhaps we should have let him.”

She went on like this for a while, and when Sirius was finally able to escape onto the Hogwarts Express, he could feel a throbbing in his shoulder were she’d gripped too hard, purposefully leaving a reminder that would probably bruise. One more thing to hide from his dorm mates. Sirius knew many of the other Slytherins would be coming from similar home situations and would know better than to look too closely.

You don’t have to be in Slytherin, a small voice in his mind reminded him. It sounded almost like Reg, but that was ridiculous. Reg knew the consequences as well as he did about destroying the family legacy. Black purebloods had been in Slytherin for as long as anyone could remember. For all his faults and attitude problems, even Sirius couldn’t be the person to break that. At least he’d have Andromeda.

After avoiding eye contact with Walden McNair when walking past a green-clad compartment, Sirius found an empty one. A couple people glanced through the windows, but he glared enough that they left, usually with an eye roll or a comment to their friends. He told himself not to care.

When the compartment door slid back open, Sirius turned to protest, but he stopped at the other boy. He looked young, and since he was alone, Sirius assumed he must be a first year too.

“Can I sit here?” the boy asked. “Everywhere else is full.”

Sirius nodded, watching him cautiously. “Are you a pureblood?” he blurted out as the boy sat, then flushed. “Sorry, that’s... I’m not trying to be rude. I just don’t recognize you.”

“Would it matter if I wasn’t?”

Sirius bit his lip as the boy stared at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know,” he eventually said. “My mother would say it does, but I really don’t see how.”

The boy laughed nervously. “I don’t want to call your mother names, but she definitely needs looked at if that’s her idea of something important.”

“She’s not-” Sirius stopped. Why was he defending her? “I mean she is crazy. But are you?”

He nodded. “I am actually. James Potter.”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “Sirius Black,” he answered automatically. “My mother said you don’t count as purebloods.”

“Well, my mother says it takes Gryffindor courage to make up your own mind. It’s why she said she wouldn’t disown me if I end up in Slytherin or Hufflepuff, even though she thinks I’m going where she and Dad were.”

“Not Ravenclaw?” Sirius asked, mind whirling about the idea of Slytherin being that bad to someone else.

“I’m not dumb,” James said quickly, “but I don’t think I want to study that much.”

Sirius couldn’t help laughing. “I mean I don’t think most of them do either. Can they? Can something really like books enough that they’re always reading?”

Houses were a safe enough topic, and bashing Ravenclaws gave them a lead on common ground--a lead that eventually led them to Quidditch. Sirius’ father had always supported Puddlemere United, but Sirius had enjoyed watching the way the Kenmare Kestrels played when he’d been allowed to go with to a game between the two teams. He didn’t have much faith in James’ Bats, but he supposed everyone was entitled to an opinion, even if it was wrong.

Soon Sirius and James were laughing like they’d known each other for years. They arrived at the castle before Sirius could have thought possible, and it was with a heavy heart that he moved forward when his name was eventually called for the Sorting Hat.

“Hmmm, another Black,” the hat growled in his ear. “You’re proud like all your family with a certain level of arrogance.”

“I’m not arrogant,” Sirius argued in his head.

The hat just laughed. “Stubborn too. And clever. Perhaps if you consider arrogance a poor word choice, it’s because you have the abilities to back up your beliefs.”

Sirius didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to argue back without sounding arrogant.

The hat must had sensed his frustration because it laughed again. “But you’re not like them either, are you? Are you strong to accept that? Are you brave enough to risk your family?”

Sirius flinched, not caring that anyone could see it.

“Are you afraid to challenge your family’s status quo?”

“No!” he shouted internally to the hat.

“Of course you aren’t.” The hate seemed pleased. “In that case, better be GRYFFINDOR!”

Sirius kept his face set in the angry neutral that pissed on his mother but pleased his father. No one really spoke to him at first as he sat down, and Sirius focused on the sorting instead of . A boy named Peter shyly sat down across from him, but Sirius paid him no mind as James had the hat placed on his head.

It took almost no time for the hat to declare, “GRYFFINDOR!” and Sirius grinned as James looked right to him.

“Budge over,” James commanded as he came to sit down. Sirius scooted without question, and the older girl on his other side scowled as she shifted as well. Sirius paid no attention to her.

He had a sinking suspicious his mother would be sending a howler in the morning, and he’d have to deal with frost from family friends (thank goodness Bellatrix wasn’t in school anymore). That didn’t matter right now.

Sirius was at Hogwarts and making his own decisions. He could think for himself as he experienced full freedom for the first time in his life.

And he was choosing Gryffindor. He was choosing James. In the coming months, he’d choose Peter and Remus and happiness.

He wasn’t his parents’ pawn anymore.

#abuse tw #child abuse tw #smoketask #smoketask:015 #sheadcanon #sinspiration #the image is more about later hogwarts while the drabble is the very first day

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juste-xiv · 5 years

Photo

CHRYSANTHE FAE VESTALIS

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▰▰▰

▰▰NAME

Chrysanthe fae Vestalis

▰▰NICKNAMES

Plenty (But none that anyone’s brave enough to call her to her face)

▰▰AGE

▰▰RACE

Pureblood Garlean

▰▰ GENDER

Female

▰▰ SEXUALITY

Heterosexual

▰▰MARITAL STATUS

Currently Single

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▰▰▰

▰▰HAIR

Light rose gold

Medium length

Loose, natural waves

Usually braided/tied up

Rarely down

▰▰EYES

Cool, piercing gunmetal grey

▰▰HEIGHT

5’8”

▰▰BUILD

Compact, taunt

Long legs and strong shoulders

Confident posture

Despite her occupation she looks built for combat

Stronger than she looks

▰▰DISTINGUISHING FEATURES

Nothing visibly noteworthy aside from the third eye on her forehead

Her body is littered with battle scars which she carefully conceals

Practically no one knows about her scarring

▰▰COMMON ACCESSORIES / IMPORTANT ITEMS

None, she doesn’t put much stock in emotional attachment to objects or possessions

PERSONAL / RELATIONSHIPS ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▰▰▰

▰▰OCCUPATION

Senator, Diplomat, Negotiator

(Secret Primus Frumentarius / Senior Intelligence Official)

▰▰BIRTHPLACE

Garlemald

▰▰RESIDENCE

Permanent residence is in Garlemald

Currently assigned to locate and secure a Garlean target located in Eorzea

▰▰ALIGNMENT

True Neutral

▰▰SIGNIFICANT OTHER

None

▰▰CHILDREN

None

▰▰PARENTS

Julianus fae Vestalis (Father, Praefectus)

Floriana dus Laevina (Mother, Notarius)

▰▰SIBLINGS

None

▰▰OTHER RELATIVES

No one she’s kept in contact with

▰▰PETS

Tarpeia (A trained kestrel, accompanies her almost everywhere)

Her emotional support kestrel

PERSONALITY ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▰▰▰

Dry, deadpan, dark sense of humor

Stoic, composed demeanor

Almost unsettlingly organized

Astute and cunning

A watcher, a listener and an observer

A meticulous planner, thinks ahead and covers her tracks

Brusque, blunt and terse

A woman of few words and even fewer compliments

Believes people should earn praise, not one for false flattery

Will banter under the right circumstances

Pragmatic, logical

A natural born leader

Imposing presence

Has a tendency to be impulsive or reckless in certain situations/under certain conditions

‘Scrappy’ by nature, quite ruthless at times

Can be surprisingly charming and charismatic when she needs to be

Not afraid to speak her mind or voice her opinions

Extremely loyal to those who earn her trust and/or her approval

Despite being outwardly cold she can be empathetic in her own way

Is surprisingly soft under her tough exterior

Loves to learn

Stubborn

BACKGROUND ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▰▰▰

On the surface Chrysanthe has lived a rather ordinary life. She lived with her parents until around the age of 8 and went through standard schooling up until that point. Around that time her parents were approached and told that their daughter displayed ‘promising academic aptitude’ and that she had been selected to attend a prestigious military academy to help encourage and develop her strengths/skills. While her parents were proud they were hesitant to send their only child away for an unspecified amount of time, especially considering the officials approaching them were oddly vague about the academy itself. Everything about the institution seemed somewhat shrouded in mystery and no matter how hard her father researched he could scarcely find any information on it and what little information he could track down was tightly under lock. Despite all of this her parents placed their trust in the Imperial officials, hoping that this opportunity would give their daughter an advantage and set her up for future success.

During her time away she returned home only once or twice a year for short, supervised visits. She never spoke of her time at the academy or her studies and she was tight lipped regarding anything particularly personal. Her father always made note of her large entourage of bodyguards and attendants. He found it curious that one so young would have so much protection but he never thought to question it, in his mind it was a great comfort to know his daughter was safe and well looked after.

Around the age of 20 Chrysanthe returned home and not long afterwards she was elected to her current position as a Senator. She’s held her position for just over 10 years and she’s built a favourable reputation for herself in the political community. Though loyal to the Empire she is somewhat of a quiet reformist working from within to encourage more humane treatment of those conscripted. She can be relatively open minded, finds other cultures fascinating and to an extent she believes that there is a certain strength that comes from understanding and respecting the culture of those they bring into the Empire rather than completely eliminating it. She’s often assigned to handle negotiations and diplomatic work and she has a hand in both local and foreign affairs. Sometimes it seems there might be more to her and her work than first meets the eye. While there are many rumours floating around Chrysanthe keeps carefully selected company, covers her tracks well and holds her cards close to her chest so it’s anyone’s guess as to if there’s any truth behind the rumors.

Currently she’s on a diplomatic venture to find and secure a Garlean target located somewhere in Eorzea.

POSSIBLE RP HOOKS ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▰▰▰

▰▰OTHER GARLEANS

▰▰DIPLOMATIC CONNECTIONS

▰▰POLITICAL INTRIGUE

▰▰PEOPLE WITH STRONG OPINIONS REGARDING GARLEMALD / THE GARLEAN EMPIRE

▰▰INDIVIDUALS WITH BEAST TRIBE CONNECTIONS

▰▰ANYONE WHO COULD PROVIDE INFORMATION ON HER TARGET

▰▰INTELLIGENCE CONNECTIONS

▰▰EORZEAN AUTHORITIES

▰▰ANY INTERESTING PLOTS

Have any ideas you think might be interesting? Let me know! I’m open to pretty much anything and I would love to hear from you. The only thing to keep in mind is that while her profile does currently say ‘single’ she is already part of a planned ship so I’m not looking for any romantic plots.

CONTACT ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▰▰▰

▰▰SERVER

Balmung

▰▰IN GAME NAME

Chrysanthe Vestalis

▰▰ADDITIONAL NOTES

If you would be interested in RP plotting or setting something up please contact me here on Tumblr or in game!

#Chrysanthe fae Vestalis #Looking for RP #Looking for Connections #Mateus #Garlean #FFXIV RP #RP Profile #LFC #LFRP #Mateus RP #Garlean Pureblood #Hyur #Midlander #Female Midlander

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practically-an-x-man · 3 months

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Your ocs first impressions of Iriel? I can imagine being in the presence of an angel (without even knowing it) might give some interesting vibes

Oooh, interesting! Thank you!

Rae: Can definitely sense that something's a little odd, and ends up putting a mental shield over her mind just to be safe, but relaxes once she gets to talking with Iriel a little more and sees how kind and understanding she is. She'd also make way too many angel jokes once she finds out Iriel really is an angel, but it's all in good fun.

Robin: I'd assume Iriel knows ASL, and that would probably be a pleasant surprise to Robin. They'd get along, though, and might bond over music/theatre a bit? I'm sure Iriel's seen some really cool historical theatre shows or operas and Robin would be interested to hear about that.

Madison: Would probably be a little distrusting of her at first - it almost seems like she's being too nice, nobody's really this compassionate to a stranger, right? It might take her a while to realize that Iriel really is that caring towards humanity.

Ophelia: Similar to her answer with Arith, would get along but wouldn't really have any super strong opinions at first. Iriel might notice how much trouble her bad knee is giving her and offer to heal it/at least ease some of the pain and stiffness, and Ophelia would thank her by gifting her some kind of device or invention of her own.

Jasper: Recognizes that Iriel is something... different since her emotions feel a little different from other humans', but can't tell specifically that she's an angel. They'd bond over medical things and wanting to help people, though.

Kestrel: Can sense that something's off, but assumes she's just a powerful magical creature (like a unicorn or dragon) that's giving off a magical aura, and doesn't really pay much mind to it. I feel like they'd bond over their travels around the world, Iriel from living so long and Kestrel from being on missions with the Knights of the Dawn.

Katherine: They're pretty similar people overall, they're both very kind and compassionate towards people, so they'd get along really well and would probably become close friends. I can imagine them going out for coffee every once in a while and catching up - Katherine's human, but understands the gods a little better than most people because of her links to the Egyptian pantheon, so Iriel might be more open in talking about her situation when she needs to get things off her chest. And vice versa, Katherine can talk about what she needs to and knows that Iriel will understand.

Quinn: Similar to Ophelia, Iriel would probably see how much pain Quinn is in from her legs and back and would offer to miracle some of the pain away. Quinn's sense of humor might be a little too sharp for Iriel at first, but then again she spends a lot of time with Arith so she's probably used to it.

Eris: Similar to Madison, wouldn't quite trust how gentle and caring she is at first - but like Eris' first impression of Arith, once they get to talking, they'd enjoy having another immortal to talk about history with. Eris might even try to rope Iriel into a swordfighting session just for fun, since there are so few good swordfighters nowadays.

Nikoletta: Similar with Arith, she struggles to really connect with people immediately, but I feel like being around Iriel and her like... heavenly light? Would help chase away some of the shadows and help Nikoletta feel warm, so she might try to keep being around Iriel just for that. And then once they get to talking, they'll probably connect a little more.

#my friends!!!#answered asks #my ocs #rae mckinney #robin cassidy #madison douglas #ophelia octavius #jasper wilson #oc kestrel #oc katherine johnson #oc quinn/aces #oc eris #nikoletta bordeaux

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shirewalker · 6 years

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kestrel and arin? omg i don't know if you do them, but i remembered you read the books a while back?? but anyway -> beside a fire + i can't stay away from u

No, I had never written them before >w

It turned into a Band AU jsyk ;)

Rated E ofc

Arin washere. Kestrel felt her lungs collapse at the sight. Of all the people to takethe same road she took… Arin had to be the one.

His silvereyes found hers and she looked away, too fast to not be noticed. She hated him.She wanted him. She didn’t hate him at all. She hated… She hated that he’drefused to join her band, she hated that he’d claim not to sing and then… Andthen when Roshar offered to be his manager, Arin had accepted. And sang.

Like mothdrawn to candle, her eyes flickered to him again. His eyes were still on her.Beautiful, damning.

“Miss?” Thereceptionist handed her a key and she pretended to ignore Arin’s presence, “I’msorry it took so long, with the snow storm our hotel is practically full andour servers are down. Second floor, and please, breakfast is on the house.” Hersmile was practiced, perfected to ruffle angry feathers with free breakfastsand whatnot. Kestrel took the key and fled to her room, dying to put as muchspace between her and Arin as she could.

“What areyou doing here?” She hissed, pulling her night robe closer to her body. She hadjust left the bath, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders.

Arin stoodby the door, bags in one hand and in the other… a key? He looked at her inutter confusion, his eyes going from her to the door to the key and back toher. “This… is my room, Kestrel.” He uttered slowly.

“Like hellit is! I paid for it!” She stomped her way to him and yanked the key out of hishands. Those hands…

Shakingthose thoughts away, Kestrel inspected the key only to throw it back at himwith a breathed curse, “They gave us the same room!”

Arinswallowed down and turned away, “I’ll go back down and ask for another room…”His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. But Kestrel knew that tone. Flat withArin wasn’t emotionless. It was him covering his hurt.

Her angersizzled away, “No, Arin. You can… you can stay. The bed is large enough for thetwo of us anyway.”

“It’s notrouble.” He insisted.

“Theirsystems are down or glitching, I’m not sure; you won’t get a room any timesoon. You can stay. I don’t… I don’t mind.” She said and turned away, hoping hehadn’t seen the way her cheeks heated up with the idea of sharing a bed withhim.

He noddedand shut the door, “Is… Is the water hot?” He said after a while, pointing ather wet hair.

“Yes. Youcan go.”

Arin tookhis things and locked himself in the bathroom, leaving Kestrel breathless andangry at the universe’s sense of irony. Arin had become her rival in the bandcontest, when all she wanted was to sing and play with him. And then Arin hadbecome the target of her moods after her poor little heart hadn’t been able tohandle his rejection. Foolish Kestrel! Why did she have to go and fall for the Herranisinger? The young man that refused to mingle more than necessary, and yet hadsomehow wormed his way into her heart. Long nights spent playing Bite and Stingwith him, sharing thoughts and opinions, and then it just… happened. One dayshe looked at him across the university lawn and her heart had simply… ran tohis. It didn’t go well though, as Arin was quick to refuse her heartfeltrequest.

“I supposethe staff can afford mixing up keys but they can’t forget the hot water, huh?”Arin said, his joke breaking through her thoughts as he stepped out of thebathroom. A cloud of steam followed him, partially covering his frame for amoment. Kestrel wished it away, and then she wished it back.

He hadn’tgotten dressed, he’d just put on a towel. Damn him, damn him to whichever sortof hell he believed in.

Arin caughther eye and a crooked grin played on his lips, “See something you like?”

Cheeksburning, Kestrel looked away and back at the fireplace, “Shut up and getdressed.”

“Or…?” Histeasing tone took her back to their midnight sessions, when he would tease herabout her droopy eyes and her long yawns. When he would try to get her to slipup and give up her game. When it was just her and Arin and nothing else existedor mattered.

“You’llsleep on the floor.” It was an empty threat and both knew it.

Arin’schuckle lasted only for a moment before it died out and his voice turned roughand serious, “I’m sorry, Kestrel.”

She didn’treply. He sighed. And then she heard his footfalls, approaching, walking toher.

“Kestrel…”He reached for her but then dropped his hand.

“You saidyou didn’t sing. You wouldn’t sing.Public stuff and that. And then…” Her voice shook with anger and heartbreak,“You get your own music act!” She turned to him and saw with wicked pleasurehow her words hit him like a slap, “If you didn’t want to sing with me, youcould have said so. Not lie! I thought… I thought there were no lies betweenus, Arin.”

This timehe did reach for her, catching her face between both hands in a hold that wasso gentle Kestrel almost thought she was dreaming it, “I’m sorry, Kestrel. Ireally am, but… I couldn’t sing with you.”

“Why?”

Arin lookedaway for a moment, fighting with something inside him. Then, “Because… Becauseyour father threatened me at the time.”

“What?” Shehissed, angry flames licking her insides. How dare he? How?! He cut ties withher and still had the nerve to decide who she could... hang with?!

He shookhis head, “It was more of an excuse than anything else, Kestrel. I… I didn’tfight him, I didn’t fight his threat because… If I stayed, if I said yes… Iwouldn’t have become just your band mate. I wouldn’t be able to be just that.”

She shookher head, or tried to, his strong hands still holding her close, “I don’tunderstand…”

“I can’tstay away from you, Kestrel. I wouldn’t have been able to do it if we spentevery moment together for the band.”

A waterysmile played on her lips, “You’re an idiot, Arin…”

He frowned,“What?”

“You saidno because you were afraid of getting involved with me?” She took a bold step,“Afraid of what could happen?”

“I wasafraid of hurting you, Kestrel.”

“How wouldyou have done it? When I too can’t stay away from you!” She made to grab himbut her hands stopped a breath away from his chest as she remembered he had noclothes on. But then, she threw caution to the wind and placed them on hisskin, carefully memorizing the way his deep golden skin felt so right under herpalms. Arin shuddered at her touch, but made no move to stop her. She said, “Whyare you so brilliant with everything but when it comes to us you just run awaylike a scared little kid?”

A sheepishsmile grew on his lips, joining that little blush that darkened his cheeks, “Iguess you throw me off. With your cunning mind and your beautiful self…”

“Arin…” Shebreathed.

“Yes,Kestrel?”

“Kiss me,Arin. Kiss me and I’ll forget how much of an idiot you have been these past fewmonths. Kiss me. Kiss me…” She begged, fingertips grazing his skin and the hardmuscle right underneath. Her body went into a dizzy dance just like that, hersenses dying to drown in Arin. Arin, Arin, Arin. Everything in her whisperedand screamed and rasped his name. She was so drunk in him already, and allthey’d done was gingerly touch each other.

“Kestrel…”His was thick and desperate, her name hanging in the air between them for onebrief moment that seemed to last forever. Forever and ever. Until… Until shefinally felt his lips touch hers.

A breath.

One longand deep breath.

As if she’dbeen drowning until this very moment, as if Arin’s lips, Arin’s air was theonly thing she could really survive on. Arin. Arin. Arin. Oh stars and all ofhis gods help her, this was even better than anything she had ever dreamed of.And it was just one small, chaste kiss.

Her handsmoved on their own accord, first down his torso, feeling every hard muscle ofhis and drawing soft groans out of him. Sweet, sweet sounds Kestrel had neverthought to be so sweet. Then she moved up, palms pressing and fingers searchinguntil her hands locked on his shoulders for a moment. All along, Arin kissedher softly, his lips massaging hers into a slow and tender kiss that seemed tohold so much fire within and yet it refused to ignite. Not yet, it seemed towhisper, not yet. Her hands moved up again and into his thick, dark locks. Sheplayed with those curls, a smile forming on her mouth when Arin sighed intoher. He liked this, she realised, safely storing this knowledge in the depthsof her heart.

And thensomething snapped.

A deep andalmost primal hunger that seemed to grow inside this kiss. Arin rasped her nameinto the kiss and she opened her mouth, welcoming him, welcoming his tongue.With each press of lips and groan and moan, Kestrel felt her world tip. Arinwas leaning into her, arms holding her close, so close, so close. And shepulled him in, careless about such trivial things like gravity and hard floors.It didn’t matter, nothing mattered. Not when Arin was here with her and kissingher and waking up every piece of hers that had been dormant until this verymoment. The kiss was catching fire and it tasted to good.

“Kestrel…”Her name was a hot breath against her cheek as Arin pressed his face to hersand began a blazing trail of kisses down her throat. Down, down, down. Herpulse, her collarbone, her shoulder… Her robe was barely covering her now,having fallen open in the process of their kisses. Kestrel didn’t even thinkabout what it meant, only what it allowed to happen. Arin kissing her, Arintouching her. Arin, Arin, Arin.

“Arin…” Hepressed a kiss right over her heart and she swore it pulsed anew. Like a freshoff the nest little bird, ready for the world, ready to spread its winds andfind home. Home. Arin. “I want… I want you, Arin…” She said, or tried to, hervoice lost in the moment.

Arin pausedhis kisses with a start. His breathing was laboured and surprised when he spokeagain, “Are you… Are you sure?”

She nodded,partially annoyed he’d stopped his kisses. Why? She was dying without them,dying. “I’m sure, Arin. I’ve been for a long time now. I can’t stop thinkingabout you, even when I try to be angry, I can’t. Not really.” She leaned intohim and eased off of her robe. A violent blush coloured his cheeks as he tookin her naked form, “I love you, Arin. I love you…”

His silvereyes, always so beautiful and brilliant, turned to her, “Kestrel…” A silly gringrew on his lips, “I love you too.”

Her eyesclosed for a moment as she savoured those words. “Then kiss me, Arin.”

And he did.He really did.

Happinessbloomed deep in her chest, just like what must rush through a bird’s heart upontheir first flight, and she laughed. Kestrel laughed and smiled and giggled,Arin’s own laughter joining hers between kisses and more kisses. His towel fellaway, by his hand or hers, neither really knew. And then he laid her down bythe fire, on a lush carpet that felt like fluffy clouds under Kestrel.

His eyesshined, happiness and surprise and love bright and alive, and Arin leaned downto nuzzle his nose against her flushed skin. Kestrel laughed, unable to containthe sound as he played with her skin. Nuzzle, kiss, nuzzle, kiss and blow, thatlast one drawing even louder cackles out of her. She couldn’t breathe, thelaughter and the anticipation taking over her. Arin’s mouth moved upwards,slowing down his playful rhythm.

When he wasclose enough, Kestrel caught his face between her hands and pressed theirforeheads together, locking her gaze on his, “You make me so happy, Arin. Sohappy…”

He seemedto hold his breath, surprised with her words, “I could say the same, Kestrel.Little fists…” A smile danced on his lips as he uttered that nickname and shesmiled too. A month into knowing each other she had accidentally decked him.Arin had commented how someone with fists so small could be able to knock himout so well. She’d laughed the whole day through. She almost laughed right now.But then she felt his touch between her thighs and all laughter and rationalthoughts were gone.

Anotherbrush, soft and tender yet making her moan and gasp in reply. Arin whisperedher name as he touched her again and again, his voice strained and in pain, asif he was the one being touched like that, as if it was Kestrel who was drivinghim blind with just her hands. A louder gasp erupted and Kestrel swore shealmost fell apart then. So close, she was so close to coming undone. Heavingchest, blushed cheeks, Kestrel held onto him as if her very life depended onhim. In a way, it did. It did.

“Arin… Oh,Arin… Please…”

“Yes,Kestrel… Yes…” He rasped and eased into her, slowly.

A blissfulsmile grew on her lips as he moved, rolling his hips with that patience he’dbuilt during their games of Bite and Sting. Slow, slow, slow. She moved withhim, hands wrapped around his shoulders, spread over the hard muscles as theytensed and relaxed with his movements. Arin leaned on his forearms, easing intoa better position as he continued moving with her, his hips slow and seductiveand slick against hers. Kestrel had always heard of quickies and whatnot, butshe was certain the reason they were so overrated was because no one had evertasted this. Arin’s slow and clever rhythm. Patient and delicious, each roll ofthe hips perfected to draw the softest and rawest of moans out of her.

Her heartwas so full and beating so fast. Full of love and happiness and Arin. Arin.Arin. How could someone fill someone else’s heart so perfectly? His words, hisbeauty, his mind, his body. His pace picked up ever so slightly and a shudderedgasp escaped both of them.

Aringroaned. “Kestrel… Kestrel…” He whispered her name, over and over again. Voicestrained, eyebrows drawn, Arin was lost in her just as she was lost in him. Solost. But a good lost, a good lost. Because he was home. Home.

Anotherroll of the hips. Just another. Another…

He cursedunder his breath and shuddered as a hard thrust rocked her body and threwKestrel over the edge, together with Arin. Together. His name was a soft cry onher lips, her heart exploding to pieces, so full of love and happiness as itwas. Her body was nothing, Arin had set fire to it with his kisses and histouch and now Kestrel was nothing but an ethereal thing. Bound to the earth onlyby her love for Arin.

She dancedwith her fingers over his open hand, tracing the lines of his palm back andforth. Arin took in a shaky breath and she giggled, “So sensitive.”

“You’retickling me, Kestrel. I can’t resist that.” He rasped, his voice still a mess.

“Are yougoing to sing with me now?” She asked after a while, looking up from his chest.

Arinsighed, “Do I have a choice?”

She smackedhim, “Of course you do. But I’d very much like it if you said yes.”

“What ofRoshar? And Risha?” He asked, remembering his manager and Kestrel’s vocalist.

Alwaysready for this, Kestrel didn’t even stop to think of her answer, “You knowRoshar won’t mind it one bit, so long he continues to be the manager. And Risha…Risha wants to go to Broadway. She wants to sing in musicals, to be where Verexis.”

Arinchuckled, “You have everything worked out already. Of course you do.”

She hummed,“Yes. I’ve thought about this for a while already. Say yes, Arin. Stay with me.”

“I’ll staywith you no matter what.” He said, his voice softer and stripped of any jokes.

“I’m glad.But I still want to play with you.”

“You don’tgive up, do you?”

“No. Plus,you said my father was the other reason why you refused me. Considering he isout of my life for good and everything we did tonight, I don’t see any reasonwhy we can’t play together.”

“What aboutthe contest?”

“I’m goingto withdraw.”

“And so Ishould do the same?” He offered with a raised eyebrow.

Kestrelpaused, “Well, you don’t have to. But I am withdrawing.”

Arin huffedand passed a hand through his hair, “And so am I, since I only entered thisbecause of you.”

Laughterbloomed out of her, surprised and light, “How come?”

“Youchallenged me. It would be a sign of weakness to not rise to it.” He replied,his tone as a matter of fact.

“I daredyou. And I was angry at the time, I said some stupid things.”

“Oh, so sheadmits!” Arin joked, the sound quickly replaced by a yelp as Kestrel poked him.

“I saystupid things sometimes, I never denied it.”

“Yes, butyou never admitted it either. I have an idea.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Weboth withdraw, let our friends know of it and stay here for the rest of theweekend.”

Her cheeksheated up, “In this room?”

Arinnodded, “In this room. Just us. Making up for lost time. What do you say?”

Kestrel smiled,perhaps the happiest smile she had ever smiled, and nodded, “Sounds perfect tome.”

#the winner's trilogy #the winner's curse #julliettesferrars #kestrin #userjulie #ya lit #the winner's crime #the winner's kiss #there's no fic tag for this fandom!!!! I cry #my writing #mine:twt #sappylines #sappy smutty fics fest #Anonymous #Questions

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laracastrowrites · 6 years

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all twt main characters you want to cover basically, esp kestrel, arin, sarsine, roshar, verex 😘

I’m gonna do just Kestrel and Arin, ok? So it wont be too big of a post (but beforehand let me say I love Roshar, Sarsine and Verex too)

So…

Kestrel

How I feel about this character: I LOVE THIS BINTCH SO MUCH I’D DIE A THOUSAND DEATHS FOR HER ONE OF MY FAVORITE FEMALE PROTAGONISTS IN YA SHE’S AMAZING BADASS AND NEEDS JUST HER BRAINS TO BE LIKE THAT I MEAN SHE DOESNT NEED TO BE PHYSICALLY STRONG TO BE BADASS AND THIS IS SO REFRESHING OMG

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Arin ofc

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Roshar, Sarsine, Verex, and her dad even tho… it’s complicated

My unpopular opinion about this character: I dont think I have one, she’s amazing c’mom

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wish her amnesia got better and that she and her father had worked things out

Arin

How I feel about this character: I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I’D DIE THOUSAND DEATHS FOR HIM TOO TF SUCH A SMART CHARISMATIC LEADER A MAN A GOOD MAN A LEGEND HE DESERVES ALL THE HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD

All the people I ship romantically with this character: the one and only Kestrel ofc

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Roshar, Sarsine and Tensen

My unpopular opinion about this character: I dont have one, why would I?

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I hope he’s singing A LOT right now hehee

#ask #kestrel-of-herran #i love all of them honestly #the winner's trilogy #twt #kestrel #arin

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potterlivesrp · 6 years

Text

sample application.

Below you will find my sample application for Seamus Finnegan (FC: Thomas Doherty)! Thank you for your patience as I got this all together. I do want to make the strong point that the freeform section is absolutely up to you. I mean it when I say you can do whatever you want! I have elected to write a bunch of headcanons because that works for my personal character building process; if you want to do something different, please do! Good luck to everyone who is applying, and if there is anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to let me know.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name/alias: Honey

Age (18+): Twenty three

Preferred pronouns: She/her

Timezone: GMT+11

Life responsibilities: 8/10. In addition to being the admin, I am also a newly minted PhD student (yikes!). Between all the chaos that entails, I am actually quite good at time management, so I am here for the long run! If ever I need to duck away for a few days, I will make a post on the main and the OOC blog just to keep everyone updated.

OUT OF CHARACTER - Q&A

Answer the questions in the application here! No, I won’t give away the answers.

IN CHARACTER - BASICS

Full name: Seamus James Finnegan

Age and date of birth: Twenty years old (December 10th, 1980)

Zodiac sign: Sagittarius

Gryffindors born under this sign are exuberant and full of good humour. They are intelligent, but often do not make the best of students, because they would rather be outside enjoying the fresh air or off studying on their own. They aren’t good at diplomatic silence; if a teacher makes a mistake, the Gryffindor Sag will draw attention to it right away, usually loudly and in front of the entire class. At length. These students can get into trouble - their hot tempers make for easy dueling matches, and their impish senses of humour inspire a great many practical jokes. Still, they rarely mean anything malicious. They’re too jovial to harbour malice. These Gryffindors are likeable extraverts, on good terms with practically everybody, and they generally do all right in the end. Many excellent Quidditch players come from this sign. (Source)

Ex-Hogwarts house: Gryffindor

Gender identity: Cisgender male

Sexual orientation: Homosexual panromantic

Faceclaim: Thomas Doherty (if I were an applicant, I would put three FCs here in order of preference!)

IN CHARACTER - IN DEPTH

PERSONALITY TRAITS

POSITIVE: Generous, curious, idealistic, humorous, energetic, adventuresome, enthusiastic, brave, optimistic, confident, flirtatious.

NEGATIVE: Inconsistent, impatient, upfront, brash, undiplomatic, tactless, disorganized, careless, superficial, gullible.

HEADCANONS

Although he would loudly object otherwise, Seamus is a bit of a country bumpkin. His father was a muggle farmer when he met his mother, who was a field officer for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The way they met was hardly romantic: she was there to investigate an outbreak of grindylows; he was about to call the council about the strange creatures infesting the water supply for his flock of sheep. But in a twist that is now legendary, Mary didn’t tell James about her magic until after they were married. This was hilarious to a young Seamus, who never tired of teasing his parents about their mutual deception. “Didn’t she give anything away?” Seamus would demand, laughing, and his father would grin, “Aye, I did wonder why a woman so beautiful would look my way.” Theirs was a happy home, one full of good humor and light-hearted conversation. Both of Seamus’ parents were Irish: national pride was not so much an aspect of Seamus’ upbringing as a permanent feature. Endlessly curious, Seamus would pour over old family photographs, nose nearly pressed to the unmoving faces of his father’s side, fingers tracing the crinkling smiles of his mother’s ancestors. In many ways Mary and James had parallel families, despite being magical and muggle respectively. They had seen famine and hardship, cruelty and poverty. The Finnegans were working stock, all calloused hands and sun-browned skin. Seamus burst with pride when he thought of his family’s blood and sweat that had seeped into the green fields of An Neidín.

Even in the middle of a war, Seamus knows he will return to Kenmare. His childhood was spent helping out on the farm, flying brooms with his cousin Fergus, and playing tricks on the local muggles. None of this was ever in ill-humor, for Seamus has an especially warm approach to all people. At school it wasn’t uncommon for him to apologize profusely if one of his jokes went a little too far (once he’d stopped laughing fit to burst, of course). One of the most important things in life, he reckons, is laughter. Laughter and good conversation. Indeed, Seamus could talk the hind leg off a donkey. When he was a child, Seamus would often ride his bike into the local muggle village on an errand of some kind – the newspaper for his Da, a bottle of ale for supper – and be found some hours later, engrossed in discussion with the shopkeeper over any manner of topics: animals, weather, farming. Seamus has an open, approachable manner that attracts him to farm-hands, milkmen, beleaguered Ministry workers, bartenders. With a vast and rambling mind, he manages to pick up snippets of information that, although often untrue or exaggerated, do mean he can contribute to essentially any topic in some respect. The degree to which his contribution is useful or even heeded, however, is up for debate.

Seamus has no clue what he wants to do after the war. Survival is his priority, as is anyone’s, in his opinion. For some years, however, he and his cousin Fergus have discussed opening up a whiskey distillery. This idea often surfaces after they have had a few too many whiskeys themselves, although Seamus would be remiss to say he isn’t seriously interested in the idea. He likes to imagine himself as the salesmen, the face of the company, while Fergus can do all the hard work. Fergus, needless to say, refutes this distribution of labor, and usually remarks that of the two of them, anyone would be more willing to look at Fergus’ pretty face than deal with Seamus and all his freckles. These conversations then regress into a tussle, which Seamus rarely wins. Fergus is a slippery little fucker.

The Finnegans are a small clan, and so Fergus is Seamus’ closest and only cousin. His senior by five years, it was Fergus who introduced Seamus to the first of most things. They attended the Quidditch World Cup together (where Seamus got catastrophically drunk – at fourteen, no less – under Fergus’ careful “supervision”); they often met in Diagon Alley for a pint and a game of chess together (Fergus always loses, mainly because he is easily distracted by the barmaid); and they flew brooms together. The last is among Seamus’ most treasured memories. Fergus would say he wanted to be a famous Quidditch player when he grew up. “I’m destined for greatness,” he insisted seriously, “haven’t ye seen me skills? Lad, you’ll be beggin’ for me autograph one o’ these days, just you wait.” Fergus did in fact make the reserve team of the Kenmare Kestrels a couple of years ago. Professional Quidditch, it turns out, is more about training and hoping you stick out enough to be picked for a game than it is about fame and glory. Now that the war has struck, Fergus has returned to Kenmare to stay with Seamus’ mother and father. The Regime has little need for sports at the moment, particularly when they’re too busy murdering muggles. If Seamus writes to anyone, it’s to Fergus, and damn Hermione’s rules about owling out too often. Fergus is his one link to home: without him, how would Seamus know about the new calf, or his mother’s redundancy from the Ministry, or his father staying up late, night after night, smoking his pipe and gazing into the fire? War means more than battles; it means leaving your family behind and hoping beyond hope that they’re missing you less than you miss them. For Seamus, who is so connected to his blood, the Resistance can be a form of torture.

Seamus dresses in muggle clothes more often than not. His parents had a relaxed attitude towards presentation, with his mother foregoing wizarding robes in favor of floral dresses or comfortable slacks, and his father usually slogging through the back door in enormous green wellies, a tweed flat cap crammed over his greying hair. Seamus is all muggle black Levi jeans, tight t-shirts of bands he’s never heard of, flannel overshirts, and a denim jacket littered with magical badges. He’s often found lounging on a sofa, trainer laces trailing, t-shirt rucked up his freckled stomach, a Quidditch magazine glued to his nose. Seamus has perfected the art of claiming a sofa to oneself (this also extends to beds, brick walls, and queues outside clubs). The trick, he reckons, is in looking utterly bored and somewhat post-coital, with half-mast eyes and a ready smirk, should anyone catch his eye. Seamus does have an air of sensuality about him -- and he can be an incorrigible flirt. “I can’t help being a sex god, can I?” he’s asked rhetorically on more than one occasion. In reality, Seamus is less sex god and more sex menace. At school he was often complaining about the regularity of his shags, the quality thereof, and the attractiveness of his partners. Being a part of the Resistance has had the effect of dampening his sex drive, but only slightly. Instead, Seamus channels his frustration into dueling. Blue balls is a very effective battle tactic.

Seamus is actually remarkably ordinary when it comes to magic. He is fair at transfiguration, good at charms, and reasonable at hexes. But it’s his patronus charm that is remarkable without exception. Seamus’ corporeal patronus – and it is always corporeal, make no doubt about that – is a fox. At first he demurred when it was suggested he teach others in the Resistance how to cast a patronus charm. “I’m not that good,” he said uncomfortably, “can’t ye get someone else t’do it?” Seamus isn’t a very good teacher when it comes down to it. He is easily distracted and often goes off on tangents, preferring instead to fall into conversation than to actually direct his student’s magic. This is a shame, because Seamus does have a gift, and it’s certainly lucky that this falls into one of the most difficult areas of magic there is.

His place in the Resistance is unquestioned. Seamus couldn’t bear to be at home, twiddling his thumbs, hoping that someone else was going to save them all from His reign of terror. Part of the reason why he joined the Order for a hot minute was simply all that energy. Seamus, for all his humor and chatterbox nature, is a doer. He needs to be in the fray, to feel useful. The Finnegans never got anywhere without getting their hands dirty, after all, and hard work is something Seamus is used to. His father certainly didn’t allow his only son to lollygag about the farm when there were cows to milk or agricultural fairs to attend. Much of Seamus’ early memories take place in the passenger seat of his father’s truck, bumping along endless green fields, heading towards some distant destination, their border collie panting and bouncing over Seamus’ shoulder. The problem with the Order was that he felt peripheral. Seamus will never kid himself: he knows he’s not a leader. He doesn’t have the charisma, for one, or the attention span. Although he’s definitely gifted at boosting morale and connecting with people, he far prefers a secondary role than being right at the front (this doesn’t stop him soundly criticizing anyone he believes is slacking off, of course). In the Resistance at least there is the feeling that they are working towards something. The Order was all cloaks and daggers: now Seamus is engaged in the gritty everyday of the Resistance’s existence. Someone has to scout out new camping spots, to figure out when they should attack that Death Eater hot zone, to teach people how to cast a patronus. Seamus is happy right in the middle of the action. He needs to feel valued.

For Seamus, the war sounds like late-night laughter, hushed in the blue dark, from people sitting around a bonfire. It’s the smell of a forest at dawn, of the rain-washed clean of another nameless British moor, the cold rush of ocean air whipping over dunes. Unmade beds, dish-washing duty, the organized cacophony of group breakfast. It feels like trudging along another country track, his boots sticking in the mud, Dean bumping into his side as their readjust the straps of their backpacks. The war sounds like the music that thumped out of a muggle club that one time in London; the way it pounded into the close summer air and tangled in Hermione’s sweat-damp hair. It’s that time he and Ron found themselves stuck in an abandoned warehouse for hours, watching a Death Eater do Merlin knew what across the way, until finally she apparated at four in the morning and left them sore, tired, and stupid, snapping at everyone when they arrived back at headquarters before collapsing asleep in bed for twelve hours. It’s the red bruise forming between his fingers from where he holds his wand. The war mainly feels like one anticlimax after another, but it mainly feels like holding a cup of tea on a frosty morning in Devon, sitting outside the flap of the tent and watching the light turn from dust to silver to gold. It feels the way that Dean makes him feel: short of breath, nervous, thrilled with their proximity.

For all his positive qualities, Seamus is a flawed individual. He finds it easy to identity the alleged weak spots of other people and does not hesitate in pointing them out, often loudly at at length, with little regard for other people’s feelings. He can also be quite brusque and even dismissive, believing that he has already considered the consequences and someone else’s opinion is merely a beat too late. In addition to this, his brash nature can cause him to be sloppy, clumsy, and heedless of consequence. Taking responsibility for his actions is something he struggles with constantly. There is a reason Seamus is not put on the trickier missions, when a careful hand and a steady eye are the only ways they can succeed. He is far better in the thick of it, with his spirit burning bright, his spells shooting through the dark like jets of flame. He lacks the finesse that a true spy requires; he does, however, have the mettle of a freedom fighter, and that is his redeeming feature.

One of Seamus’ biggest problems is his ability to jump to conclusions. It’s not an uncommon occurrence for Seamus to forego any logical explanation and simply choose whichever answer is the most salacious, extraordinary, or unbelievable. And somewhere, in the crowded, bright places in his mind, these tales take on a life of their own. At school it meant he was especially susceptible to gossip. More recently, his doubt in Harry Potter exemplifies this. Seamus would never discriminate based on blood status, and that is not the reason he feels uncertain around the prophecy of Potter being the Chosen One. No, he has a problem with the fact that Harry essentially knows nothing about how to fulfill this supposed prophecy. Although a halfblood himself, Seamus did essentially have a magical childhood. His mother imbued their home with magic in all of its ordinary glory: floating teapots, evergreen flowers on the sill, self-refreshing laundry. Seamus is used to the lovely everyday of magic and the wonder it can inspire in even the most mundane of chores. Even his father, in his sentimental moments (which are frequent; the Finnegans are an emotional lot and prone to heated monologues) expresses how strange and empty his old life feels without the touch of his wife’s wand. So how can someone who has never known the poisoned touch of You-Know-Who, who never grew up with stories about his reign of terror -- how can someone like that be expected to save someone like him? Even Seamus’ mother had a rough time during the first war; Seamus has seen her scars. You-Know-Who might have taken everything from Harry -- and that angers Seamus on Harry’s behalf -- but he also doesn’t know about the grim reality of Dark magic. What a word without Light is really like. And that, to Seamus, is difficult to reconcile.

EXTRAS

Seamus’ blog can be found here!

Here is a Pinterest board for him.

This is also where I would link to two writing samples if I were an applicant! They do not have to be IC.

#hp rp #golden trio rp #harry potter rp #literate rp #seamus finnegan #sample application

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transtrendhumanity · 7 years

Text

its that time of the week again. i think cilla is hosting again. callon and tyto are also close to front, and i think kei might be as well.

the main room of the house is warm with an echo mood, and smells like tea and sugar cookies. perien is on the couch with amelia and floret, and is positively glowing. kye really enjoyed the fic we commissioned. gabbi is sitting backwards on ethan’s chair. haze, for once, is sitting on the stairs, almost being social. echo is up and talking, and the light coming through the window behind her almost makes her look holy.

it seems like the full-size aquarium is still a work in progress but rayn is present anyway, in a comedically large fish bowl on the floor.

upstairs, ethan is with riley and nessie. theyre discussing washi tapes, and riley is complaining that we don’t have any pastel highlighters yet. nessie isn’t super interested in the journal-keeping business, but she has some strong aesthetic opinions, so she’s involved in the conversation. raliel is missing. they tell me wav had something important to do.

remm is in vir own room. the door is mostly closed again, but ve still seems happier than usual.

back downstairs and into vex’s workshop, vex and jace are talking about scrapbooking again as well. jace is saying that they should talk to riley & co as well but it seems like vex isn’t too interested in sharing eir artistic process, even if ey has grown accustomed to jace’s consistent presence.

venic is lying down in the back room, one arm over kyr face. when i talk to kyr, kyr replying grumble is barely coherent, but i can sense an air of melodrama: kye’ll be ok in the end.

asking after vaccine gets me fast-traveled to their room in azdien’s basement, where they’re staring contemplatively at the jellyfish wall and tallying fire emblem weapons we need in our current playthrough. kestrel walks in, and complains that ailecent won’t come down to the basement in this building, so they should meet elsewhere. vaccine doesn’t pay aer much mind. i sneak out of the room before they can start arguing in earnest.

(callon is also thinking about fire emblem, as well as mix tapes and system maintenance, but ey is background fronting rather than present in headspace)

heading upstairs, vyrn seems to be cheerful again. xe’s literally climbing on kisoquine, who is making halfhearted attempts to shake xyr off. i give them a warning that if they turn to full-on roughhousing, they’ll have to go outside.

looping around to the library, tobias is bragging to elster, who is listening with good humour. through the back hallway and micah pulls their temptation routine again. drohen, for once, is not in the dining room.

instead, it, as well as trysten and jody, are upstairs in trysten’s room. trysten is painting while holding idle conversation with jody.

darion takes the moment of quiet to play with sandiles, or think about it.

azdien, in vaer reading room, watches darion with some amusement, but doesn’t say anything.

nitexx is in the treehouse again, absolutely wearing aculeatus’s look and sitting atop the tv stand/stage while telling dramatic stories to kayden (fascinated), nero (doubtful), kitt (bemused), and kei (uninterested). vite seems to be at the base of the tree, working on zier bike. it’s still sort of at an awkward transitional point, but it’s starting to look cool. vite seems very flattered, almost bashful, that i think so.

in their own house, corian is talking about kin stuff to nine. callon pops in to tell them off a bit, but i doubt ey can affect anything. ailecent is sitting on the railing of the porch, looking out at the lightly falling snow.

nika is down by the pond, testing the ice. it shouldn’t quite be ready yet, but i think skye has been helping it freeze faster, so nika is just about ready to lace up sier skates, even though the pond is hardly big enough to do more than tight loops.

skye is actually sitting on the bench by the pond. tyto is beside faer, standing, and im surprised to note aloe out and about, standing cautiously on skye’s shoulder. ae tells me that the snow thinly coating the ground is pure, so ae’ll be fine even if ae falls.

i find raliel out by the cliffs, looking contemplative. wav doesn’t seem inclined to talk about what’s on waves mind. i quietly wonder if wav is just pondering homestuck hnk au.

checking our list, i notice that i haven’t seen yacinthe yet. sending out a quick query shows that ce’s in cer room, on the second level of the treehouse. i wonder if ce’s always had a room there... i dont think so? i can’t tell right now whether ce filled out the forth corner or simply borrowed someone else’s room.

out on the mountain, gail is still in a freakishly good mood, and asks that i find a recording of the ice screams for them to listen to.

#[roll call]

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