#bertie DOES just enter peoples houses

[sandwichsapphic]

every time i try to start an essay my brain stops and i make one of these instead

[thisisntreaver]

Haha what if I posted a segment of a fic I'm writing about unimportant character Penelope Chumley wouldn't that be crazy

Despite her newly assigned 'protector ' Penelope is enraptured as Bertie Knippet talks about the town Wraithmarsh once was.

As she walks she furiously takes notes. A mix of what shes told the sounds of hollowmen groaning and screams of banshees as well as what shes seeing.

Its both heartbreakingly beautiful, and horrifically ugly to take in. Marked in a way no other place in Albion could possibly be. In a way she never could have envisioned by herself.

By the time they make it to the main part of the town, all flooded containing them to what seems to have been where most would have lived, Penelope has enough for at least two articles other than her focused one.

While the rest of them are keen to explore as a group, she splits off wanting to soak up the ambiance of a place so few are willing try entering.

Alfred finds her sitting on a rock, with her back against an old rotting wooden barn, notes sitting in her lap as she stares out at the wreckage that is Wraithmarsh.

She knows hes likely come to bring her back to the group, its his job to keep her safe after all, but Penelope has no desire to return yet. So before he can speak she does.

"Its eerily beautiful here, don't you think?"

"Beautiful?" He repeats, "you find the destruction and corruption of this place 'beautiful'?"

"Yes."

When he just shakes his head and opens his mouth she cuts him off.

"Its abandoned but not empty. For every person that once walked this place theres a creature in its place. Its quiet but not silent even without people, without the screaming this place is loud. Loud with its story, with its hurt, you can almost feel the pain here, sunk into the ground itself."

She pauses for a moment looking at the houses around them.

"Its destroyed in the sense that its falling apart but it still stands. You can go into these houses and find the remains of lives that were being lived until they weren’t. This is a place that aches but its healed, however wrong we may see it."

She understands that in a way. Healing, but incorrectly, arguably thats what shes been doing since her mother died. Fixing herself in ways that no one can really understand.

Wraithmarsh, in a way is like seeing herself laid out in gory detail. Her goal here was to learn more about Theresa, but somehow shes learned about herself as well.

Alfred still seems to be processing, and she can't seem to keep her lips shut.

"Theres a tombstone, with the one we looked at earlier," she says, "Its for a teddy bear. Nearly six hundred years ago this place was so different that a childs toy was buried in the ground next to a father and two nameless men, after a massacre of which they'd never seen before had rocked them, honored in the same way as them. Now? If we died here they wouldn't even bother to take out bodies out of the marsh. We'd be left to become one of the restless souls here."

"And you think this all makes it beautiful?"

"I do."

They stay quiet for a few moments, her continuing to soak in the feels this place leaves in her, and him studying her as if she makes no sense.

She likely doesn't.

"I also find it rather ugly if that eases your mind."

She gets a small laugh from that.

"We should get back to the group," he says, "Hugh would be upset if I left you to become balverine bait."

She snorts even as she lets him help her up.

"Clearly he didn't inform you of my run in with Atticus Croddle."

[legends-of-time]

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 49: August 1925

Masterlist

TW: depictions and discussions of suicide. In no way am I an expert in this matter. I tried to write it the best I could.

——

Emma quietly hums as she rocks and pats the baby in her arms after the early morning feed. Her son gurgles up at Emma as she cradles him in her arms. Emma beams at him, unable to take her eyes off him, eager to watch every action of the month-old baby.

Thankfully Patrick Owen Branson's birth had gone smoothly. After recovering from the shock of labour starting, Tom had quickly snapped into action and called for help to assist Emma up the stairs from the servant area. Thomas had swiftly appeared and the two of them got Emma up the stairs and into the car that still sat outside. After that, the birth happened quickly with Emma having the urge to push soon after they arrived at the Hospital.

Sybbie had turned 5 just over a few weeks later and happily carried around her Auntie Emma and Uncle Tom's new baby with her father anxiously following her, worried about her dropping him. Ivy has taken the role of older sister very seriously when it comes to Patrick while Michael has very little interest in his little sibling as he can't play with him so he happily runs after Teo, Robert's new puppy from Violet.

Mary is still down after what had happened at the races and with Henry. Despite her insistence that she is fine, Emma can see that she has withdrawn slightly and is not laughing as much though holding baby Patrick does bring out warm smiles from her.

Edith is also feeling a mixture of emotions. She had quietly confessed to Emma that Bertie had proposed when they had been up in London but she has not said yes yet as she hasn't confessed to him who Marigold really is. Emma hopes she'll tell him soon as she really doesn't want another Mary and Matthew situation when Matthew proposed the first time.

Rosamund has also come to stay, apparently because of a cold though Emma has her suspicions that she's hear because of Edith. Not that Emma would complain, she likes Rosamund and Edith is quite close with her aunt so it only makes sense she would have her support.

Not everyone is down in the dumps. Mr Molesley had done well in his exam and has been offered a teaching position at the local School where he'll be doing a couple of lessons a week. Whereas Mrs Patmore's new house in Houghton-Le-Skerne, a little to the north of Downton, on the border with County Durham, has already received its first guests in its function as a bed and breakfast.

——

"A house of ill repute." Emma splutters, trying not to laugh but horrendously failing.

Mary sniggers. "That's what Anna said. Of course we all feel sorry for her."

The two look at each other, trying to keep a straight face before they both splutter with laughter again as they cross the Great Hall to enter the Drawing room.

Mary had told her what Anna had told her. Sargent Willis had come round (again) to inform Mrs Patmore that her first guest had not been as respectable as she first thought. A Mr Ian McKidd and a Mrs Dorris had decided to use Mrs Patmore's bed and breakfast as a little hideaway as they ran from Mrs Dorrit's husband who's suing Mr. McKidd for damages related to adultery leading to Mrs Patmore's bed and breakfast gaining the label of a site of a house of ill repute.

Emma sniggers out a laugh as she recalls Anna's hilarious description of a shocked Mrs Patmore. Oh dear, of all the people it should happen to, it had to be the naïve and innocent cook.

Emma stops Mary at the door to the Drawing room. "Now, I know you can't help yourself, but we need to be sombre for Edith's sake, alright?"

Bertie's cousin, Peter Pelham, 6th Marquess of Hexham, had died from malaria while travelling in Tangiers late last month. This only just puts another level of strain on Bertie's proposal to Edith no doubt.

Mary rolls her eyes and huffs, "Who cares? He probably won't have a job now, my romance might not be the only one to come to an untimely end."

"Exactly what I mean, keep your gleefulness to yourself." Emma retorts as they enter the room.

——

They all have assembled ahead of dinner with the addition of Isobel. The only one missing is Edith. The mood is rather subdued.

"Poor Mr Pelham. First that terrible day at the race track, and then to hear his cousin's died." Cora says.

"It does seem very hard." Isobel agrees.

Edith walks in. Robert and Billy rise to stand next to Tom who already stands next to the settee that Emma sits on along with Cora and Mary.

"Did you get hold of him?" Emma asks her, concerned.

"Yes. He's coming tomorrow, on the first leg of his trip to Tangiers. I've asked him here." Edith replies as she moves to stand in front of them all.

"Good." Cora agrees.

"How is he?" Billy asks, concerned.

"Sad." Edith sighs. "He loved his cousin, and it was all so quick. The trouble is they've already buried him. Bertie's not sure what to do."

"Well, that's ordinary in hot countries. It won't mean any disrespect." Isobel reassures her.

"No. But should they leave him there?"

"Surely that decision is down to the new Marquess, not to Bertie?" Mary asks, her tone isn't kind, more irritated.

"Well, that's the thing. He is the new Marquess. Bertie."

There's an astonished silence after Edith's announcement as they take in the news. Emma watches in concern as Mary's face morphs from smugness to annoyed disbelief.

"Bertie Pelham is now the Marquess of Hexham?" Robert asks in a tone of utter disbelief though not out of unkindness, more shock.

"Yes."

"Nonsense. He's having you on. He'd have told you if he was the heir." Mary remarks, almost ready to laugh at the whole situation.

But Edith remains serious and cool. "He did tell me. But his cousin was in his thirties, and they all knew the girl he was going to marry."

"But that's absurd! If Bertie's a marquess, then Edith–"

"Edith would outrank us all. Yes. That's right." Robert says, interrupting Mary and starting to laugh at the whole situation.

Rosamund and Isobel join in his laugh, but Cora and Mary, like Emma, don't, though she knows Cora's reasons are more like Emma's than Mary's.

"Was he a close relation?" Emma cuts in, still surprised as well as concerned. If Edith was unsure about accepting Bertie because of Marigold, what'll this do to the situation?

"Second cousin, once removed. Nobody thought it was possible he would ever inherit. Least of all Bertie." Edith replies.

"Well, he seemed like a nice young man to me." Isobel remarks.

"And getting nicer by the minute." Rosamund quips mischievously causing her and Isobel to let out another giggle. They're having such fun over this.

"With a real love of Brancaster." Tom adds.

"Golly gum drops! What a turn-up!" Robert says gleefully.

The door opens to emit Mr Carson.

Cora takes the cue. "That's dinner." She rises to her feet. "If we're not too distracted to eat."

Isobel, Rosamund, Billy, Robert and Edith walk out first. Cora, Emma, Tom and Mary hang back.

"So we'll all bow and curtsy to Edith. You'll enjoy that, Mary." Tom quips at the disgruntled sister.

"Hardly." Mary scoffs dismissively. "And if Bertie is Lord Hexham, which I still don't believe, he won't want to marry her now."

"Careful, or people will think you're jealous, dear. We don't want that." Cora says gravely as they all file out past Mr Carson.

Emma can't but feel this'll end badly.

——

They're at their after-dinner coffee in the drawing room. Only Robert has gone to bed early again. Cora, Rosamund, Isobel and Edith sit chatting together, laughing. Emma overhears mention of poor Mrs Patmore's situation but she is absorbed in her own private conversation with Tom, Billy and Mary.

"I had a call from Henry earlier." Tom remarks.

Mary looks startled but asks softly, "Henry? Why didn't you say?"

"He's saying it now." Emma says.

"How is he?" Mary asks anxiously.

"Mourning Charlie Rogers. Missing you." Tom answers.

"You're not to ask him to come here." Mary warns him sternly.

"Suppose he just turns up?" Billy remarks, trying and failing to be subtle about it. Emma narrows her eyes at her friend.

"Don't encourage him, Billy. None of you should. I mean it. We'd be wretched long term." Mary declares.

"And you're not wretched now?" Billy asks.

Mary sighs and moves away.

"She's right about one thing, you can't encourage him." Emma says to the two men next to her.

"But you see how sad she's been." Tom argues. "I think Henry needs to come."

"I don't know..."

"Oh, come on Emma." Billy scoffs. "She just needs to see him, to realise maybe she shouldn't have ended things with him."

Emma grimaces. "I just know it'll end badly."

"How?" Her husband questions.

"This is Mary we're talking about. She doesn't like her hand being forced and asking Henry to come will rile her up further than she is already with the Bertie situation." Emma explains her thinking. "She needs to come round to it in her own time."

"You don't know that." Billy says.

Emma rather thinks she does.

——

The next morning, Emma sits on one of the red settees across from Rosamund, who's flicking through a magazine, while Robert is writing at his desk, cradling Patrick in her arms as he has a quiet snooze.

They had received good news the day before, Daisy passed every paper she had taken with high marks. Emma remembers the little girl (one she had always found quite irritating) and is amazed to see her progress.

Cora comes in. "Where is everybody?"

"Mary and Tom are agenting, Billy's at work and Edith's gone to meet Bertie's train." Emma replies as Cora moves to sit next to her, reaching over to softly stroke Patrick's cheek. "I've just come back from being outside with the children. Apparently there was some important bug excavation needing to be done in the grounds."

This causes the adults to all chuckle.

Rosamund is the first to sober up. "Are we going to talk about it? Are we really going to sit by and let this young man's family and future be put at risk from a scandal we are hiding from him?"

"I don't think she has to tell everybody, but I agree. She must tell him. Then it's his choice." Cora answers.

"I agree." Emma declares. "This is the sort of thing you really should not keep secret from your spouse."

"Isn't it up to Edith?" Robert argues.

"From what I've learnt, we really shouldn't leave it up to your daughters." Emma retorts.

Robert looks affronted at this and goes to reply but Rosamund cuts him off, "Robert is scared of Edith loosing a marriage worthy of the name because after Tony Gillingham had gone, he thought none of his daughters would make a marriage worthy of the name. Now there's a chance of one, and he can't bring himself to give it up!"

"You haven't got children. You don't understand these things." Robert retorts dismissively.

"No. I haven't had children, Robert, as you so kindly remind me, but I hope I do have a sense of decency." Rosamund cries angrily.

"How long are you planning to stay? Your cold must have cleared by now." Robert counters. Christ, the two are like children.

"Don't fight. Nothing's going to get better by you two falling out." Cora says in a sharp whisper as the door to the Library opens emitting Edith and Bertie, who walk in through the Small Library. The others rise to greet them.

Cora approaches them first. "Hello, Mr Pelham. I mean..."

"I'm going to stay Mr Pelham until the service." Bertie says, saving her the embarrassment. "But I wish you'd call me Bertie, anyway."

"Of course, hello Bertie." Emma greets warmly. "I don't believe you've met Patrick?"

"Er no." He accepts the baby, rocking him slightly and looking softly down at Patrick, who's just woken, staring at the unknown person in wonder.

"What sort of service will it be?" Robert asks.

"Not a funeral. I've decided not to disturb him." Bertie says, sounding almost choked up. Emma smiles softly as her son reaches and clasps Bertie's finger in a tight grip as if to comfort him. "I'll fetch his things and settle his debts and have a service at home to say goodbye."

"That sounds like a very good plan." Cora says.

"I hope you'll allow me to come." Edith says.

"I want you to come." Bertie says simultaneously warm and desperate.

"You remember my sister?" Robert indicates to Rosamund.

Emma takes Patrick from him so he can greet Edith's aunt properly.

Bertie walks towards the woman. "Of course. Lady Rosamund."

"This must be a strange and unsettling time for you." Rosamund says sympathetically.

"I'll say. My mother's cock-a-hoop," Bertie remarks, "but she doesn't appreciate that I was devoted to Cousin Peter."

"I'm sure she does." Cora assures him.

"Not really. Most people didn't get the point of him. He was... so delicate. But he was as kind to me as any man has ever been."

"Then how pleased he'd be to know that you're his heir." Emma says softly.

"That's so nice of you." Bertie's voice cracks as he begins crying in earnest. Edith puts a comforting hand on his arm. "Goodness. I'm afraid you've made me blub."

"Let me take you upstairs to unpack. Luncheon's not for half an hour." Edith tells him. They walk past the others and out by the other door.

Rosamund, deeply moved, turns to Robert. "And that's the man you want to trick into marriage?"

Robert lets out a huff. "I'm going for a walk." He walks out the other way.

"I agree." Cora says. "But Robert thinks Edith's had so little luck in her life."

"He can't be serious!" Emma scoffs. "Doesn't he know that she'll never be happy with such a secret dangling over her?"

"Exactly. We all know she's making a mistake." Rosamund says.

——

Bertie is more together by the time they all sit down for luncheon, attended by Mr Carson, Thomas, Mr Molesley and Andy. Isobel has joined them and Mary and Tom have returned from their agenting while Billy is still at work though had called earlier to see how Bertie is to which Emma could only tell him that he's in a bad way over his cousin.

"What was it about Tangiers that your cousin enjoyed so much?" Isobel asks Bertie as he sits next to her.

"Who knows?" Bertie replies. "He used to talk of going down to the beach and watching the young fishermen bring in the nets. How the setting sun would make the scene magical until everything was suddenly plunged into darkness."

"Goodness. How... lyrical."

"He was lyrical. He was an artist. In his heart, anyway." Bertie says with a small soft smile.

Emma grins. "I like the sound of him."

"I don't think this family can boast much in the way of artists. Although we did have an aunt who was quite good at macramé." Robert quips. Everyone chuckles politely.

Mary, however, doesn't and speaks up, after having stared at Bertie the whole time with an odd look on her face that's been unnerving Emma, "So, are you here to settle things with Edith before you leave?"

This startles everyone. Everyone either gives shocked looks or frowns in Mary's direction for her being so indelicate. Emma is in the latter category.

"Mary, please." Cora reprimands, astonished.

This doesn't deter Bertie. "I hope so. I hope we can get things settled, but I mustn't jump the gun." He gives Edith a hopeful smile.

"So, Bertie, you mentioned your mother, but what other family do you have?" Emma asks, happy to deter the conversation.

"That's it. My father's dead, obviously, there are no siblings. It's just me and Mother." Bertie answers.

"You were joking when you said she was cock-a-hoop, but she must feel a certain pride." Cora says.

"I wasn't joking," Bertie dissuades, "but judge for yourselves when you meet her."

"You talk as if we should be scared of her." Tom remarks.

"She makes Mr Squeers look like Florence Nightingale." Bertie quips. Everyone chuckles a little awkwardly. Edith looks rather alarmed. Oh, dear.

——

Later in the day, they're all gathered in the Library for tea and a puppet show. Tom and Bertie sit behind the booth and operate the puppets, one of whom is a Punch character who is whacking another character, a Policeman, with a slapstick. Billy, Mary, Emma and Edith as well as Ivy, Michael, Sybbie, George and Marigold sit lined up on low stools in front of the booth to watch the show. Nanny Jean is in the background while the other Nanny, Margaret, is in the Nursery with Patrick as he naps. Robert, Cora and Rosamund are watching from the red settees.

"Take that! And that!" Tom as Punch, in a weird, high-pitched voice cries.

"Ow!" Bertie cries as the Policeman.

"Punch is terribly fierce. I don't think he's a good model for marriage in later life." Mary remarks.

"Or relations with the law." Robert says with a chuckle.

"Take that! And that! And that!" Tom says as Punch, still dealing out blows.

"Ouch, you rascal!" Bertie's Policeman retorts.

"And that's the way to do it!" Tom makes Punch bow, and the show is over. Everyone claps and laughs.

"Very good!" Billy compliments.

"Whoo, Daddy!" Ivy cheers.

Emma laughs. To think that she herself had watched a couple of Punch and Judy shows when she was a child, over 80 years in the future, and here her children are, in the past, watching a similar show. Funny how life works and things last.

Emma then hears Mr Carson clear his throat. "Er, Mr Talbot."

Wait what?

Emma turns around just as Mary does, both in surprise and alarm. There Henry Talbot is, trailing after the butler as they both come through the Small Library.

Cora rises to greet their guest. "Hello, Mr Talbot. Mary never told me you were coming."

"I didn't know he was." Comes Mary's reply.

Neither did Emma. She gives a sharp look to both Tom and Billy, who both avoid her gaze.

Henry stays near the exit, unsure of his welcome. Mary hasn't got up from her seat. "Well, the thing is, I was driving down from Durham and I suddenly realised I'd almost be passing the gates."

How convenient...

"What were you doing in Durham?" Rosamund asks, still seated and Robert walks up to Henry.

"Oh, I was doing various car things."

"We haven't seen you since that awful day at Brooklands. I hope you're coping with it all." Robert says.

"Well, one doesn't have much choice."

Mary approaches Tom and Billy with Emma trailing after her. "Did you two know about this?" She hisses in an accusing undertone.

"I might have said that if he was coming from Durham, then he'd be driving quite close." Tom says casually.

"Don't think I'm amused! I dislike my hand being forced." Mary retorts.

"Which is exactly what I told them." Emma quips.

"No one's forcing anything." Billy argues.

"Now you're here, I hope you'll stay the night at least." Cora says to Henry, drawing their attention back to the wider conversation.

"Mary?" Henry prompts hopefully.

"Perhaps Mr Talbot is in a hurry to get home?" Mary replies coolly.

"No, no I'm not."

"It's settled then. Carson, will you please tell Mrs Hughes? And ask someone to unpack for Mr Talbot." Cora instructs. Mr Carson sketches a bow and leaves.

Emma in the meantime helps Billy and Edith as they direct the children to Nanny. It's clearly best that they evacuate the area.

"I'm afraid you've missed tea." Robert says.

"Oh, don't worry about that." Henry dismisses.

"I won't." Mary retorts, forcing a cold smile. Mary sits down on one of the red settees, pretending to be interested in a magazine.

While Henry approaches Bertie, Emma turns to Tom. "Pretty sure you and Billy have allowed Henry to make a bad miscalculation." She says as she watches how Mary is still pretending to read her magazine, but she's so nervous and upset that she opens and closes her hands convulsively, which is something they rarely see.

"Don't say that." Tom murmurs.

——

Mary comes walking up the staircase, followed by Tom and Emma.

"This is so precisely not the way to win me over!" Mary snaps.

"Mary, will you just get off your high horse?" Tom retorts as they come to a stop on the landing.

Emma winces that. She'd made the executive decision not to say anything, not wanting Mary's anger to be misplaced towards her, Emma who hadn't done anything.

Mary turns back to him angrily. "Why are you interfering?"

"Because I love you and I want you to be happy."

"Well, you've got a bloody odd way of showing it!" Mary hisses.

"Well, I take it this is me you're fighting about?" Emma turns to see Henry catching up with them.

"Yes, it is. And you can dig yourself out. Because I've had enough." Emma huffs. "With all of you."

Mary scoffs as Emma and Tom walk away, leaving her and Henry alone.

"I told you this wouldn't work." Emma murmurs to her husband.

"You're not helping!" Tom huffs.

——

Robert stands chatting to Bertie near the fireplace in the Drawing room after dinner. "How are you getting to Tangiers? Is there a boat that sails direct?"

"Actually, I'm flying. For the first bit, anyway." Bertie tells him.

Emma perks up in interest at that from where she sits in one of the chairs next to them.

"What?" Robert exclaims incredulously.

Bertie chuckles. "I know. It does seem rather daring."

"And impressive." Emma grins. She knows travel by air in this time is still rather new compared to her time.

"I do not envy you." Rosamund comments from where she sits in an armchair opposite.

"I don't know. Now the commercial airlines are starting to operate, I dare say we'll all be flying hither and thither before too long." Robert remarks.

"I rather doubt that." Rosamund says with a laugh.

Emma watches this all amusedly. "Well, I do. It's quicker and more efficient. People will want that."

On the other side of the room, Billy and Mary are having a conversation of their own. It clearly doesn't end well as Mary's then marching to the door in a huff. Henry walks out after her. Emma watches after them, worried.

——

Emma is giving Patrick the morning feed in the Nursery the next morning. The children are out with the Nannies so Emma has the room to herself for a short while.

Emma is just burping him when the quiet is disrupted by Tom angrily storming in. "I can't believe her!"

Emma helps Patrick do one last belch before pleasing him back in his cot and turns to her husband, "Tom? What's happened?"

"It's Mary. She forced Edith to tell Bertie about Marigold and now he's stormed off." Tom explains, trying to calm down but still breathing heavily out of anger.

Emma's jaw drops. "What?! Why?!"

"Henry's gone. It's all my fault, I should've stopped them from announcing it."

"Announcing what?"

"Edith has said yes to Bertie." Tom explains.

Well, that explains it all.

Emma sighs, coming over to stroke his upper arms. "It's not your fault. This is Mary we're talking about. Edith is happy, she isn't, so she's decided to be horrible."

"I know but I knew, I knew she was suspicious of Marigold. And I invited Henry over. I should've handled it better." Tom grumbles.

Emma presses her lips together, knowing any comments right now will not be helpful.

——

It's gotten worse, Bertie has now asked to be taken to the station. At the front door, a car stands ready with Andy in attendance. Emma stands with Robert and Tom as they wait for Bertie to get in, but he's walked a little way off into the park with Edith.

Tom checks his wristwatch and sighs. "He'll miss his train."

"Let him miss it. He can catch the next one." Robert remarks. "What happened?"

"Apparently, Mary forced Edith to tell him about Marigold." Emma tells him.

"I wouldn't say forced." Tom argues.

Emma rolls her eyes. "It sounds like it to me."

"How did Mary find out?" Robert questions.

"Mary is not stupid." Tom replies.

"No. And she's not always kind, either. Was it really a mistake?"

"What difference does it make?"

They carry on watching Edith and Bertie. Emma wishes it was the opposite but she doesn't blame Bertie for being upset for not being told about Marigold. It isn't long before Bertie touches his hat and moves away, leaving Edith behind.

——

Mary sits in the Estate Agent's office, waiting for Tom to start their day's work. Emma walks in with a face like a thundercloud.

Mary frowns when she sees her. "Where's Tom?"

"Trying to clean up the mess you made, but don't worry, he's failed. Bertie has left for the train, and now Edith won't be the next Marchioness of Hexham." Emma replies hotly.

Mary shrugs calmly. "Well, that's not what I wanted."

Emma narrows her eyes and scoffs. "Isn't it?"

"I still can't believe she'd never told him. How was I to know that?" Mary responds, cool as a cucumber.

"Don't play the innocent with me." Emma warns her. "You should know better."

"I didn't mean it—"

"Don't lie!" Emma shouts at her. "Not to me! You can't stop ruining things! For Edith, for yourself! God, you're a literal child who sees their sibling has a shiny new toy. You'd pull in the sky if you could! Anything to make you feel less frightened and alone!"

"You saw Henry when he was here, high-handed, bullying, unapologetic. Am I expected to lower myself to his level and be grateful I'm allowed to do so? Tom and Billy brought him here. Why are you not yelling at them?" Mary retorts, no longer acting cool and working herself up into quite a passion now.

"Trust me, they've already had a telling off but only because they really should've known what you're like. I mean, just listen to yourself. 'Lower yourself to his level'. You're not a princess in The Prisoner of Zenda!" Emma cries in disbelief.

"I thought you of all people would understand me but you're just like the rest of them." Mary snaps.

"The amount of times I've stood by you, defended you but you've taken it too far!" Emma yells again. "You ruined Edith's life today! How many lives are you going to wreck just to smother your own misery?"

"I refuse to listen!" Mary says furiously, getting up from her chair.

She tries to leave but Emma doesn't move out of her way. Instead, she stares directly into Mary's eyes and calmly states, "You're a coward, Mary. Like all bullies, you're a coward." She marches out having hopefully given Mary a lot to think about.

——

"Christ, I can't– she– urggghhh!" Emma cries, unable to form proper sentences with how angry and frustrated she is. She paces her and Tom's room while her husband sits on the bench at the end of their bed.

"I'm glad you talked to her. I might've throttled her." Tom remarks.

"Don't put yourself down, I was quite close to it myself." Emma huffs. "What are we going to do?"

"I know a way we can sort this. At least partly." Tom tells her.

"How?"

"Violet."

Emma frowns. "Tom, she's somewhere in France. We have no way of contacting her."

"Well, actually. I do." Tom admits.

"Heh?"

He goes to the tallboy in the corner of their room, opens a drawer and pulls out a letter. "She wrote to me. I received it shortly after she'd gone."

He hands it to Emma and she takes it, reading it to see Violet genuinely had written to Tom, detailing where to contact her if need be. Emma grins.

"Why you're smiling?" Tom questions, slightly amused.

"It's funny. She clearly trusts you and to think how to her you were this odd foreigner to her once." Emma remarks.

"'Suppose. But we need to do this quickly." Tom says.

"The nannies usually take the children outside soon. What if we abscond ours and have a trip to the Village. What do you say Mr Branson?" Emma smirks at him.

Tom returns her smirk. "Why Mrs Branson, how clever you are."

——

Emma and Tom are walking through the Village, Emma walks next to Tom as he pushes along Patrick's pram with a letter in hand to drop off at the Post Office. Ivy and Michael are running about just ahead when Miss Baxter, who was rushing past, comes to a sudden stop.

The lady's maid is panting heavily with wide panicked eyes. "Mrs Branson, Emma, you need to come quickly."

"What's happened?" Emma questions, worried for the woman. Ivy and Michael have stopped up ahead, watching them curiously.

"It's Thomas."

That's all Emma needs to hear before her stomach drops to the centre of the Earth.

She looks to Tom, who nods. "Go."

Emma flashes him a thankful smile before turning and beginning to run back to the house with Miss Baxter.

"Mama?" She hears Ivy call.

Not wanting her daughter to panic, Emma smiles calmly over her shoulder, slowing slightly. "Mama just forgotten something sweetheart."

Ivy accepts this and begins tugging Michael along with her to carry on playing.

——

(A/N: This is the suicide part.)

Emma and Miss Baxter hurry through the empty downstairs passage, looking for Thomas. They look in the Servants' Hall, the Boot room – empty. Emma ignores all the odd looks they're getting from the other servants as she has only one thing in mind.

They move on to the stairs, barging past a surprised maid, Lucy, and enter the men's corridor. Andy is just exiting his room, pulling on his tailcoat, when they turn the corner.

"Does Mrs Hughes know you're on the men's side?" He says rather sternly to Miss Baxter before startling when seeing Emma. "Er, Mrs Branson—"

"Where is he?" Emma demands.

"Wha—"

"Mr Barrow. Where is he?"

"Er, he was going in for a bath."

Emma sees all colour leave Miss Baxter's face and she knows that her face has done the same thing.

"Oh, my God." Miss Baxter gasps. "Come with us!"

They rush past him, around a corner and to the door of the bathroom. Andy follows, alarmed.

"Hello!" Emma bangs on the door, Miss Baxter joins her. "Thomas! Are you in there?!" She tries the door handle, but the door is locked or bolted. She rattles it desperately. "Will you open this door?!"

"Get back!" Andy instructs.

Emma and Miss Baxter move back, the former has her hands in her hair, pulling in distress while the latter has her hands clapped to her mouth.

Andy aims a kick at the door, then another one. The second kick tears the bolt off the door frame, and the door bursts open. They rush in.

In the red-tiled room, Thomas has filled the bathtub with water and got into it, still wearing his undershirt and trousers. He's lying in it with his eyes closed, pale and lifeless. The water has a reddish tinge, and there's blood spatter on the sides of the tub, on his arms and on his chest.

"Oh, my God!" Andy gasps, horrified.

Emma goes into nursing mode, running towards him and surveying the damage before she starts tearing her underskirt into ribbons for makeshift bandages.

Miss Baxter turns to Andy. "Fetch Mrs Hughes. Send Anna for the doctor, but tell no one else what you've seen."

Andy runs out and Miss Baxter joins Emma by the bath.

——

Emma and Miss Baxter have lifted Thomas' arms out of the bathtub and bandaged his wrists as best they can with the materials they have and are now cleaning him up, softly dabbing his face and arms with wet towels. In the meantime, Thomas had moved his head slightly but very weakly, which is a relief to see.

Both of them look up in alarm when footsteps are heard and the door opens. But relax when they realise it's only Andy and Mrs Hughes.

Mrs Hughes stands in the doorway for a moment, shocked at the sight, but then recovers quickly, closing the door for privacy. "Anna's gone for Doctor Clarkson."

"Good, we've bandaged his arms for now but we need help in getting him out, changing him out of his wet clothes and get him into bed." Emma tells them.

"I hope he won't mind if we undress him." Miss Baxter says.

"He's past minding if we put him in a shy and threw coconuts." Mrs Hughes remarks. "Now, you two take his feet and Andy and I will take an arm each."

They move to do as she said. Mrs Hughes and Andy each take Thomas under one arm while Emma and Miss Baxter move to the end of the tub.

"Has anyone told Lord Grantham?" Emma asks.

"Mr Carson's seeing to that."

"Right. Here goes." Andy says.

They start pulling Thomas out of the tub. He opens his eyes a fraction and groans. Emma winces at that, her nurse façade falling slightly.

They pause before having a go again.

——

Thomas groans awake.

"Thomas? Thomas?" Emma calls worriedly. They'd been able to get Thomas into his room and change him before Dr Clarkson's arrival. The doctor had been able to treat him without needing to take him to Hospital.

Mr Carson had suggested the idea of telling everyone that Thomas is ill with influenza rather than what had happened. He doesn't want any more people than those who already do to know what happened. Emma agrees with it. As far as she is aware, suicide is a crime in England right now and will be until the latter half of the century. There's the worry that, because Thomas did not succeed, he risks being imprisoned or taken to the asylum. Though for Mr Carson, it's the additional huge scandal for the family.

Robert and Mr Carson have also oh so graciously allowed Thomas to stay for the time being, to take needing to find a job off his mind, which they should have done or something similar at least in the first place.

Emma watches from where she sits at the edge of the bed as Thomas slowly blinks his eyes open. He frowns when he sees Emma, looking slowly over Dr Clarkson, Miss Baxter and Mrs Hughes, who stand behind her before it dawns on him. He suddenly pales.

"I—" His mouth is dry so Emma brings water to his lips to which he takes a sip.

"Mr Barrow, I was able to stitch you up, though Mrs Branson provided superb aid prior to my arrival, so you will not need to go to Hospital." Dr Clarkson kindly but professionally tells him.

"Thank you, Dr Clarkson." Thomas mournfully replies, refusing to look up at anyone.

"And now you're awake and there's nothing else, I will leave you in the diligent care of Mrs Branson and your colleagues." Dr Clarkson adds.

"I'll take you to the door, Dr Clarkson." Mrs Hughes says. The two of them leave.

Miss Baxter lingers for a bit longer, flashing a small, pitying smile in Thomas' direction. "I glad to you're looking better." She says softly before leaving.

As soon as she's left, Thomas pulls a face. "I don't want her pity." Normally that would come out as a grumble but instead, he says it faintly almost like a ghost.

"She's cares for you so you're going to get it whether you like it or not." Emma quips softly.

"Why did you stop me?" He suddenly asks. He fiddles with his bandages to which Emma gently slaps his hands away.

"What? Other than the fact you're my friend and I don't want you to die?" Emma retorts, trying to keep it light.

"Well, you haven't been acting like my friend recently." Thomas retorts.

Emma's face drops. "Yeah, I know I haven't and I'm sorry but I'm my defence, you can be a real bastard sometimes."

"Yeah, I know." Thomas mumbles but this time there's a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth which isn't much but it's something.

(A/N: End of the main part of TW)

——

Emma continues to stay with him for the rest of the day before Miss Baxter takes over and Emma goes to join the others for dinner, at which she learns they'd also been informed of what had happened.

Edith isn't there and has actually gone up to London. After Emma had left Tom, Edith had asked him if he could drive with her to the Station so he could take the car back to Downton. Apparently, the kids had a lot of fun in the spontaneous car ride.

The next day is largely the same though Anna and Miss Baxter take turns in relieving Emma and helping to look after Thomas. At one point in the day, Mary brings both Ivy and George up to visit with oranges to make him feel better. He's still weak and pale but a tad better on what he was yesterday, physically anyway.

Come Friday, Emma sits in the Library with Tom on her break from looking after Thomas/just generally keeping him company. They're on their own as Rosamund, Cora and Robert are getting ready for their tea at Mrs Pamtore's B & B. Rosamund had suggested it, to make a little news story out of it to help with Mrs Patmore regaining the bookings she lost due to the place being deemed a 'house if ill repute'. Emma's glad that's being sorted at least.

Emma is startled out of her musings when Andy comes striding into the room.

Tom looks up from his newspaper. "Andy?"

"The Dowager called, Sir. She's returned to the Dowager House and is now making her way to Downton." He hurriedly informs them, a tad out of breath.

Both Emma and Tom's heads snap towards each other at a speed that really should've snapped their heads off.

"That was quick." Emma remarks. "You should go go to the door, Andy. Don't want her in a mood if there's no footman to greet her."

Andy nods and darts out of the room.

Violet's car comes up the drive to the house and halts at the front door. Andy comes out to meet it and opens the rear door for Violet to get out. Tom and Emma come hurrying out of the house to greet her.

"I can't believe you came!" Tom remarks in greeting.

"You made it sound so urgent." Violet retorts.

"Even so, we really appreciate it. Thank you." Emma says. They start moving towards the entrance together. "Was everything all right when you got home?"

"Well no, not really. Spratt has gone away." Violet complains, pulling them to a stop.

Okay, odd.

"Did you tell him you were coming back?" Tom questions.

"A good butler should not need to be told." Emma almost laughs at that but decides not to interrupt Violet as she continues with, "Now, where are they? My broken-hearted granddaughters?"

"It's just Mary. Edith's gone up to London. We didn't know when we wrote." Emma tells her as they continue walking towards the house.

"All the better." Violet says. "Oh, and after that's been sorted, I would rather like to meet Patrick."

Emma smiles at that. "Of course."

——

Thankfully, Mary is not mad at Tom or Emma for summoning Violet though in doing so has appears to have worked as Mary is much happier, ready to make peace with Edith as well as having sent a telegram to Henry to come as soon as he can today. If Mary wants him then Emma's happy for her.

By the time of his arrival, Billy has arrived home from work and stands anxiously with Emma, Tom and Mary in the Library as Henry walks in through the Small Library. The atmosphere is not exactly pleasantly relaxed here. Mary is extremely nervous, Henry looks confused and reserved, Tom is cautiously optimistic but not overly optimistic while Billy is reserved but hopeful. To be honest, Emma just feels exhausted and is just wishing for the sweet release of this being over.

"Well. That's it. We'll leave you to it." Tom announces.

Emma and Billy begin to follow him just as Tom moves to leave, but Henry's voice stops them.

"You don't have to go."

"Believe me, we do." Emma remarks.

"Exactly. We've been part of this courtship for quite long enough. It's for you to manage from here." Billy adds.

And they walk out and close the door behind them. Billy and Tom begin walking towards the stairs, crossing the Great Hall but Emma doesn't, slowing down her steps.

Billy's the one who catches what she's doing first. "Emma?"

"Wouldn't be weird for me to impatiently wait outside the door until I find out whether there'll be a wedding or not?" Emma tries to say it conversationally but instead, it's awkward and she's cringing.

The two men share a grin and Tom turns to her and says, "Weird but we won't stop you." And they both leave, chuckling.

Emma rolls her eyes and plonks herself on the closest chair by the door.

A short time later Mr Carson emerges from the door that leads to the servants' quarters at the corner of the Hall and moves to the door leading to the Library. He startles but recovers quite efficiently when he spots Emma.

"Mrs Branson?"

"Er, don't mind me, Mr Carson. You just get on with your work." Emma says, trying to not act like she's just been caught red-handed spying. Well, not spying but something close to that.

The butler looks at her baffled but does just that. Emma doesn't see what happens but she can tell he's startled at what he sees and then very quietly and discreetly moves back out of the room and closes the door again.

"I take it by you're expression it's good news?" Emma asks, grinning at the almost scandalised look on the man's face. She lets out a few quiet sniggers.

Just then, Mr Molesley arrives with tea on a tray.

Mr Carson outs up a hand to stop the footman when he reaches them. "Uh, give it a moment, Mr Molesley. Better give it a moment."

He gives Mr Molesley a very significant look, which Mr Molesley answers with a soundless "Ooooh!" when the penny drops.

To be honest this sends Emma from quietly sniggering to full-out laughter.

——

"What is it with men Mary is marrying making both you and Billy their best men?" Emma remarks as Tom shrugs on his mourning coat while Emma does his tie.

It's Saturday 22nd of August 1925 and it's the day Lady Mary Crawley and Mr Henry Talbot get married. Apparently, the two aren't hanging about. The last time he was here, Henry had brought a marriage licence nod conveniently, his uncle is a bishop which means they're able to marry at the earliest convenience which is this Saturday.

They're a little late getting ready and are moving at double the speed than they would've done if they hadn't gotten, er um, busy this morning.

Tom laughs. "It is strange that both of us will have been the best man at both if her weddings."

"Funnier things have happened," Emma remarks as she steps away from him and turns to her dresser to slip on her earrings and pull on her gloves. "Did you know Mr Carson had Henry have breakfast in bed so that there would be no chance of either Henry or Mary catching a glimpse of one another?"

"This is Mr Carson we're talking about. He wouldn't take any chances with Mary's happiness." Tom chuckles, as he places the flowers in his lapel and Emma hands him his hat.

Emma steps back to look at him but not before stroking his lapels to make sure there are no creases. "There. You're all set and now you really must go."

Tom flashes her a grin and gives her a quick peck before he leaves the room to meet with Henry and Billy and make their way to the Church.

——

Emma had arrived in time to watch Anna do Mary's hair and put the finishing touches to Mary's wedding dress along with Cora and Rosamund. It's an altogether less romantic, more modern affair than at her wedding with Matthew, but still very elegant, because come on, it's Mary.

The door opens. Edith comes in, still in her travelling clothes. She looks unsure and reserved.

"What? I don't believe it! Why didn't you say to expect you?" Cora exclaims in surprise as she, Rosamund and Emma all rise from their seats.

"Because I wasn't sure until I got on the train." Edith replies.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Can you not ask me that for the rest of the day?"

Mary turns to Emma, Cora and Rosamund. "Could you leave us for a moment?"

"Of course." Her mother says.

Emma, Cora, Rosamund and Anna move towards the door. Anna opens it for the ladies. Cora pauses at Edith's side to stroke her arm encouragingly.

Emma gives her a warm smile. "I'll see to the children."

"We'll wait for you downstairs." Rosamund adds before they all finally leave. Hopefully, there'll be no blood to mop up or a body to hide.

——

Thankfully neither is true and they all arrive at the Church in one piece. The wedding goes swimmingly and they all soon find themselves emerging from the Church after the newly married Mr Henry Talbot and Lady Mary Talbot to applause and people showering the newly married couple with flower petals. They pause to kiss, to more cheering, then move on.

There's a horse-drawn carriage that Mary and Henry take their seat in before it moves off towards the Abbey.

"Better than ours do you think?" Tom asks after they finish waving it off.

"Nah, no wedding will beat ours, I'm certain." She flashes him a warm loving grin to which he kisses her. They pull apart and Emma adds, "Now, only one more Crawley sister to sought out."

Tom sighs. "Hopefully that won't take long."

Emma looks over to see Edith standing in the churchyard, watching Ivy, Marigold, Michael, Sybbie and George with a loving look on her face. The children are running and laughing and playing tag around Sybil's large stone tomb.

Emma rather thinks it'll all turn out fine in the end. With any luck.

——

A/N: Can't believe I started this story just over two years ago and now I'm here with only one more TV episode to go and then it'll be the movies!!! Where does the time go?

Some facts that I thought might be useful:

Tallboy = tall cabinet

'Punch and Judy' is a traditional British puppet show played from a booth, featuring Mr. Punch and his wife Judy as the main characters. Punch is a clownish creature, a jester and a trickster and most of the comedy comes from the other characters falling victim to Punch's slapstick. Punch speaks in a trademark squawky voice, which is traditionally achieved by the performer speaking through a squazzle, but with less discerning audiences like here, any silly voice alteration will do.

Although suicide itself is no longer a criminal act, under section 2 of the Suicide Act 1961 it remains a criminal offence for a third party to assist or encourage another to commit suicide.

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[ye4gerismarchives]

500 follower special!

an: we reached 500 followers! i’m still on hiatus but i wanted to do something special (maybe not so special) for this milestone! since i’m rebranding, i decided i’d do a “catch up” post for the two new characters i’m writing for- jean kirstein and bertholdt hoover. just a reminder that this is targeted towards black!readers and this is in the aot setting- none of that modern stuff lmao. but if y’all want that, let me know!

warning: n/a

jean kirstein

- he’s so amazed by the color of your skin (everyone was lmao) but jean was just in love with you. he thought you’re hair texture was beautiful as well. he’s the type of person that tries to touch it even after you’ve asked him to stop smh

- but overall, jean wants to be around ALL the time! although it’s annoying, it benefits you a lot. if you’re about to be eaten by a titan, jean is always there to save you.

- however, you’re not a big fan of jean’s cockiness and how he’s always fighting with eren. oh and remember the time he yelled at his mama?

- jean was afraid to tell you that he was in love with you but told marco instead. marco, being the good friend he is, advises jean to just be normal.

- “you’re obsession with her is kind of weird-“

- “huh?!”

- “just be you, jean! you’re quite charming when you aren’t stupid.”

- jean followed marco’s advice and decided to confess to you after he died. as both of you watched his body burn with multiple others, jean leans in and whispers, “marco wanted me to tell you that...i love you.”

- you’re shocked by his statement and decide not to respond. why would he use marco’s death to confess to you? jean thinks that you don’t feel the same and understands why- he’s somewhat terrible.

- as time goes on, you start to see that jean has changed and he’s maturing.

- you’re a little embarrassed tho- you used to hate jean. there’s no way you could ask him out. occasionally, the two of you flirty but it just isn’t enough.

- time continues to go on and jean is now a commanding officer within the corps. he looks so handsome when he’s in charge.

- you decide now to confess to jean and he’s really happy. you thought he’d get over his crush on you. he promises you that after all of this is over that he’ll marry you and buy you a house away from all the drama.

bertholdt hoover

- this was all reiner’s fault. after the first few hours as a cadet, you finally got to sit down and eat. you didn’t want to be bothered AT ALL. then this blond fool sits in front of you at the table you once had to yourself.

- “hey, my friend, bertholdt, he likes your squiggly hair.”

- you look up from your food and give the guy a look before looking back down. squiggly hair? what is wrong with these people?

- “reiner! you don’t say things like that! you should already know this! there are tons of black people back home! you know not to say things like that. and her hair isn’t squiggly. it’s (your hair type. ex. 4c).”

- you look up to see this giant standing by this reiner dude. when you lock eyes with him, his face reddens.

- “why don’t you sit down for a bit?” you say.

- bertholdt quickly does so and you start introducing yourselves to each other.

- after this you and bertholdt are inseparable. if he’s not with reiner, he’s with you.

- sometimes you two like to sneak out and look at stars or the moon or whatever y’all be doing.

- he tells you about his hometown and how he’s shocked that there’s not a lot of diversity within the walls. you’re amazed but the fact that there are even people who look like you.

- you call him bertie to see him go red.

- “oh bertie, can you help me with my gear?”

- however, behind his shyness and cuteness, there was just something off about bertie (and reiner). bertie’s cuteness and sweetness seemed forced.

- your suspicions were confirmed when you witnessed him, reiner, and another friend of theirs, annie, lead marco to his death.

- “you guys took his gear and left him there?!”

- you get ready to save marco yourself but bertie holds you back. you struggle against him and he finally lets go when marco has been bitten.

- “you’re all monsters!” you cry. annie is disturbed by her actions and bertie is somewhat ashamed. it’s only reiner who seems to be out of place. “how...how is this our fault?” he asks. you’re ready to kill reiner yourself but bertie stops you again.

- you can’t forgive bertie after this. you began to see him as cold and stupid.

- bertie tries to make it up to you. he brings you flowers and even steals food for you but you just won’t budge.

- there was a time where titans were entering another wall and nobody knew why. while you guys were figuring it out, bertie and reiner reveal themselves as the colossal and armored titan. you’re heartbroken. the man you thought you loved was responsible for everyone’s suffering.

- you’re in too much shock to run or fight him. the scouts can’t seem to stop him. before you know it, he sallows you before anyone can do anything about it.

- you wake up, lost and confused, but the pain in your heart remains. you’re laying on a thick tree with ymir and eren and with reiner and bertie watching you from above. your gear is gone.

- “y/n...when this is over, i’ll explain and i’ll take you home with me! we can start over!”

- you’re not looking forward to this.

[spicedcinnamoncake]

Pins and Needles  pairing: George Weasley x American !Gryffindor Reader Summary: Who knew that the shy new kid had a way with sewing? To George, that’s pretty cool.  TW: fluffy 💕💕 2.4K Words

   You looked around your dorm and began to unpack. You came in a week after term started and you needed to unpack your things. Luckily, it was Saturday and lessons wouldn’t be a problem. Everyone was buzzing about the weekly trip to Hogsmeade in the halls, and it peeked your interest. Sure you didn’t have anyone to go with, but this could be a good way to make some friends. 

  You had just arrived in England from America, and had just started Hogwarts. Everyone was a stranger here, and you were on the lookout for some new people to hang out with. 

  You pulled a hoodie over your T-shirt and tightened the laces on your boots before locking your dorm and running downstairs into the courtyard where everybody was waiting for the sendoff. You showed McGonagall your signed permission slip and joined the group. 

  The walk was rather pleasant. You took in the scenery, all the trees with red yellow and brown leaves falling in the breeze and the sound of branches rusting against each other filled the air as you and the rest of year 5 of Hogwarts walked to Hogsmeade. 

  Hogsmeade was a cute little town, with shops and cafe’s and cobblestone streets. You walked along the cobble and followed the rest of the kids as you didn’t know the area very well. You saw a majority of people go into a place called Honeydukes. 

  From the moment you stepped inside you could tell why that place was so popular. The shelves were loaded with sweets and tricks, excited people grabbing stuff like crazy. You walked along the shelves, half of the treats you haven’t even heard of. Bertie bots and chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties... I guess a chocolate frog sounded good. You had a few coins in your pocket, why not? 

  You picked one off the shelf and began to walk as you read the labelling. You were so distracted that you didn’t even realize the person standing in front of you...

  ‘Oof!’ You fell over on your knees, the small candy falling out of your hand. ‘Oh shoot, I am so sorry-’ 

  ‘Nah, It’s alright. Need help?’ 

  You grabbed the strangers hand and hoisted yourself up. You were met with a pair of hazel eyes and flaming red hair. This mystery guy had a spattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose. He gave you a small smile and handed you back your frog. ‘Think you dropped this.’ 

  ‘Oh, thanks.’ You took back the frog and stuffed it into your pocket. ‘Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you before. I’m George, you?’

  ‘Oh, I’m Y/N, I’m new here.’ 

  George’s eyes widened at your accent. He grinned and fiddled with the end of his sleeve. ‘Would you want to come with me and my brother to the Three Broomsticks? It’s got the most amazing butterbeer in England.’ 

  You smiled at the offer. ‘Sure, why not?’ 

  You payed the five nuts for the frog. (You ended up getting Dumbledore) And followed George to the place he was talking about. He was ever so funny, cracking you up in no time with jokes. He told you all about Hogwarts and how you would love it there. 

  ‘So, which house are you in?’ 

  ‘Oh, I’m in Gryffindor. ‘ 

  George looked at you and beamed. ‘That’s my house as well!’ 

  You two laughed at the coincidence, finally drawing up to the Three broomsticks and going inside. You were met with the strong smell of cinnamon and coffee, and the warm air hit your skin as you went further inside. George led you to a table were a few others were sitting. Another boy who looked identical to George who turned out to be his twin Fred, another boy with red hair who was his brother Ron, a girl named Hermione and a smaller boy named Harry. 

  ‘Guys, this is Y/N, their new here. Their from America, AND their in Gryffindor.’ 

  Everyone said hello, they all seemed so friendly. You sat in between George and Hermione, who asked you tons of questions about America, which you expected might happen at your new school. 

  You all ordered Butterbeer, and Fred and George laughed as you chugged the entire mug after the first sip. George elbowed you and smirked. ‘Told you it’s good.’  You rolled you eyes and giggled. 

  From that day on, the five of you became inseparable. You always hung out, and before you knew it it was already nearing summer break. 

  ‘Ah, summer!’ You sighed as you slumped against a tree in the field you guys were hanging out in, stretching your legs out as you looked up though the green leaves. ‘I’m gonna miss you guys. Welp, at least I’ll see you guys next year.’ 

  Hermione elbowed Ron, who cleared his throat. “speaking of which, Y/N would you liked to come to the burrow this summer? Everyone does, even if it’s only for a week. Mum takes us to Diagon alley before school so we can get our stuff. It’s always fun, you should come.’ 

  You thought about it, and it did sound like fun. “sure, i’ll ask my parents, I’m sure they’d like me out of their hair for a bit.’ 

  George and Fred whooped and you smiled. This should be fun. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  You clutched the backpack on your shoulder and gulped. You had been so excited but now you were so nervous. What if they got sick of you? What if you became a burden?’ 

  You took a deep breath and stepped into the fireplace after hugging your parents goodbye. You erupted into green flames and in moment you found yourself in a slightly smaller fireplace. You stepped out and immediately recognized the voices of your friends. ‘Oi Fred! Y/N’s here!’ 

  George called up the stairs to his brother before rushing over to you and wrapping his arms around you. You giggled as he lifted you slightly. ‘Don’t suffocate me Georgie.’ You joked. George put you down and grinned. ‘Missed you.’ 

  You noticed a faint shade of red start to spread across his face. You didn’t get to think much of it though because of all the people that entered the living room moments later. You hugged Fred, Harry, Ron and Hermione before shaking hands with Mr. Weasley and received an even tighter hug from Mrs. Weasley. You met Percy and Ginny, who both seemed really nice. Percy a bit uptight, but you thought nothing of it. 

  ‘You’ll be sharing with Hermione and Ginny, just upstairs dear.’ Mrs. Weasley said, before rushing to the kitchen.     ‘Ok, Thanks Mrs. Weasley!’

  ‘Just call me Molly dear!’ 

  You smiled and turned to George. ‘Your mum’s really nice.’ 

  George grinned. ‘Need help with your bag?’ 

  ‘Nah, I’m good.’ 

  You followed Hermione and Ginny to Ginny’s room. It was small, but cozy. You put your bag down on your place on the floor. 

  ‘Nice room Gin! I really like it.’ 

  ‘Thanks Y/N’ 

  The three of you talked until Molly called you down to dinner. You made it official in your head that Molly Weasley had the absolute best cooking ever. The food practically melted in tour mouth, and you stared in awe as the dishes got cleaned by magic, washing themselves. The burrow is honestly the most magical place you have ever seen aside from Hogwarts. 

  The summer was amazing, You, George, Fred, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny all going on walks and playing card games and having mini games of quidditch. Soon, it was already time to go to Diagon Alley. 

  ‘Hurry up Y/N, we’re just about leaving!’ Hermione said as you grabbed the big cloth bag out of your backpack. You and her hurried downstairs were everyone else was gathered. One by one, everyone erupted into green flames and arrived into the large are known as diagon alley. Shops lined the streets and there were people and children running everywhere. ‘Now children, we meet here in exactly an hour ok?’ Molly said, and everyone nodded. George grabbed hold of your arm and tugged you with him. ‘Seeing as this is your first time here, i volunteer to be your guide.’ You giggled and went with him. 

  You two walked and chatted, going in and out of stores. George goggled at how cute you looked when your face lit up at the box of kittens in one of the animal shops. You tugged George inside. Owls were on perches, rats in brass cages running on top of landings and down again, and the faint mewing of cats in the distance. 

  ‘Oh George they are so cute, don’t you think so!?” You cooed as you picked up a calico kitten who purred as you stroked it. ‘Your cute.’ George mumbled. ‘You snapped your head around, and he turned a dangerously visible shade of red. You smirked. ‘Your not so bad yourself Weasley.’ 

  You beamed as be blushed harder. You put down the cat and took his hand, leading him out of the store. You two were about to go back to the meeting place when one store caught your eye. ‘George, I need to go in there. I’ll be right out I promise.’ 

  ‘Slow down darling I’ll come with you.’ 

  You entered the store and you gawked in awe at the amount of fabric, thread, and buttons inside. You were practically in heaven. 

  You ran your hand down the different fabrics, checking the prices. ‘I didn’t know you were into sewing.’ George said, examining a cotton sheet. ‘Like sewing? Georgie my dear, sewing is my LIFE’. You tugged at the shirt you were wearing, made out of black cotton. ‘I made this last winter.’ 

  George’s eyes widened. ‘YOU made that? It’s so good!’

  You blushed at his appreciation. You picked a few pieces of fabric and paid, putting them in the bag and you and George exited the shop, meeting with everyone else. ‘Mum! Y/N’s into that sewing thing as well you know?’ 

  ‘Oh that’s interesting! What sort of stuff do you make?’ 

  You looked at your shirt and the bag in your bag. ‘I make most of my own clothes, like this shirt I’m wearing.’ 

  Molly looked amazed and you two gambled off about sewing and knitting and whatnot. George and Fred just laughed, George thought of it as cute though. He already had this itching crush for you from the moment he met you and the fact that you got on so well with his mum just made his heart flutter. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  It was the beginning of term, and you were now sharing a room with Hermione. Your desk was littered with scrap pieces of fabric, and scattered needles. Hermione’s was depressingly neat. 

  You were wearing a pin cushion on your arm, trying to fix the hem of your robe because it ripped when somebody knocked on the door. ‘Come in!’   

  George entered the room, his hair messed up. He must’ve just got out of quidditch you assumed. When Hermione saw who was at the door, she shut the book she was reading and stood up from her bed. ‘I’m going to go see what Harry and Ron are doing.’ 

  Once she left, you two were alone. ‘Come in, what’s up?’ You gestured towards the space next to you on your bed. George came over, propping himself up with his arm before pulling his hand away, yelping. ‘What? What’s wrong?”

  Your eyes filled with worry as George examined his hand. He picked up a small pin from the cover and handed it to you. ‘Think this belongs to you.’ 

  ‘Oh dear sorry, I’m working on my robe you see, it ripped and i was fixing it.’ You put the pin back in the pin cushion and took George’s hand into your own, gently massaging the area of impact. 

  George turned a bright shade of pink as your delicate fingers ran over his palm. ‘It’s alright Y/N.’ 

  ‘So, how was quidditch?’ You asked, resuming your work. George cleared his throat, looking shyer then usual. ‘Uh, practice was good. Speaking of which, I, uh, managed to rip my jersey on the goal post. I was wondering if you could fix it for me?’ 

  ‘Uh-huh, sure just hand it to me.’ 

  You were so engrossed in your work you didn’t even realize that George was shirtless in  front of you. You looked up when he handed you his ripped jersey. You examined the area where the rip was. ‘Oh sweetie this can be fixed in two stitches, you-’ 

  Your eyes gawked at him. When did this boy get to be so fine? You felt yourself go red, before you decided to turn it into a joke so he wouldn’t notice you being embarrassed. ‘Did you find a small hole just you could see me? Hmmm?’ You smirked, thinking you could tease him, until he said his reply:

  ‘Yes that’s exactly what I did.’ 

 You paused, needle halfway though the fabric. You looked up at him, he tried to cover himself up with his arms, his face bright red. ‘Well, I enjoy your company.’ 

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Also when did you get to be so dang hot?’ 

  You smirked as you saw him get even redder. ‘T-thanks.’ 

  ‘Your welcome... there you are, all fixed.’ You handed him the jersey, the hole all patched up. George slid it on, you watched the shirt over his abs. ‘Look in the right sleeve.’ 

  George turned his right sleeve inside out, only to see a tiny embroidered heart in light pink stitches. ‘Aw, that’s so cute!’  George gushed. You felt pleased. 

  ‘Well, I better get going.’ George said, standing up. ‘Awe man, leaving me already?’ You pulled a pouty-face, and you saw the nervousness in his eyes. ‘Of course I’ll stay.’

  You two talked for what seemed like hours, that is until the dinner bell rang. You helped George up, but not before he pressed a small kiss to your cheek. He left without a word after that. You stood there speechless, tracing the area where his lips had been seconds before. 

  You turned to your bed and screamed into a pillow. Oh merlin he kissed you! 

  The next day you caught him in the hall. Without saying a word, you managed to drag him into a quiet hallway, were nobody else was wandering. 

  You pressed him to a wall and kissed him. You were craving the taste of his lips for a while, and now you finally got his. George melted into you, he hitched you up by your legs, you wrapped them around his waist and you tangled your hands into his hair. You two had waited long enough for this, and this was complete and utter euphoria. 

  Once he pulled away, he smirked. ‘What is is?’ You asked. 

  ‘Oh, let’s just say that I’ve been on pins and needles waiting for this.’  

[cdc1345711]

I ❤ Arlo Story : I Heart Arlo? PT 1

(It was another day in the happy beach town of Seaside by the Seashore a home for outcasts and miscreants including a very special Alligator Boy)

Arlo:(Sing Song):Good Morning Seaside, it's such a beautiful day, in fact it's too perfect to be on my own I should spend it with my Friends"

(On the Rooftop of his Apartment shows Arlo's best friend and roommate Bertie relaxing and taking care of her plants)

Bertie:(Sigh)This is very nice"

"BERTIIIIE"(a noise so loud it shocks her)

Arlo:Howdy Bertie I was wondering since it's such a good day you and the Others would like to spend the day together?"

Bertie:Gee Arlo I normally would but..... I kinda wanted to just spend some time alone.... If that's okay?"

(Arlo feeling a bit bummed)

Arlo:Oh well that's fine Bertie"

Bertie:Are you sure?"

Arlo:Yeah you do you Girl I won't get in the way of your thing"

Bertie:Well okay than cool"

Arlo:Cool cool cool cool cool cool(leaves his apartment) well Bertie might be busy but least my Other Friends might enjoy the day with me"

(Cuts to the Dept of Hair run by the Queen Fuzzball herself Furlicia)

Arlo:(Barges in)Hello Furlicia would you like to spend this glorious day with me?"

Furlicia:Oh sweetie I wish I could but I'm too booked"

Arlo:But I thought you decided to take breaks once in a while"

Furlicia:Don't worry Arlo I am taking breaks I just gotta deal with my Customers(sees like 20 or so people) maybe around closing time we can hangout"

Arlo:Oh okay then(knowing it'll be around dark)just take care of yourself and these fine people"

Furlicia:(Cutting a Women's Hair fabulously)Will do Arlo"

Arlo:Okay Furlicia is also busy who else who else hmmmm"

(At Teeny Tiny Tony's Pizzeria Tony is busy selling his delicious home made pizzas to the people of Seaside)

Tony:Arlo I'm too busy selling these pizzas to the starving masses of Seaside to just close up shop and goof off now either buy a pizza or take a hike"

Arlo:Well what about Alia?"

Tony:She's delivering my Pizza Pies"

Arlo:Oh......"

(Arlo walks around eating some pizza)

Arlo:No Bertie No Furlicia Not even Tony.... Who else can I ask"

(At the fountain of the Man Fish Marcellus)

Arlo:Hey Marcellus you wanna...."

Marcellus:No....."

Arlo:But...."

Marcellus:I don't care leave my Fountain"

Arlo:okay....."

Marcellus:WAIT!"

Arlo:(Happy Gasp)"

Marcellus:(Eats the rest of his Pizza) okay now you can go"

Arlo:oh....."

(Arlo is just sitting down feeling completely bummed out until he sees a Van drive up to him)

Alia:Hey Arlo(sees the look on his face)Hey what's wrong?"

Arlo:I wanted to spend this Beautiful day at Seaside with everyone but Bertie is taking care of her plants, Tony and Furlicia are busy with the Pizza Place and Hair Salon and Marcellus..... Well he just wants to be alone"

Alia:Well why didn't you try to ask me?"

Arlo:Tony told me you were busy with delivering pizzas so I didn't want to bother you"

Alia:Pfft Come on I can hangout with you"

Arlo:Really? You're not busy?"

Alia:Nooo in fact Tony gave me the day Off and he even gave me these Pizzas"

(Back at the Pizzeria)

Tony:(On the Phone)Yes I'm sorry your delivery is late, what? No no refunds!WHERE IS ALIA!!!!!???"

(Back with Alia and Arlo)

Arlo:Let's start this Perfect day"

Alia:Heck Yeah!!!"

(The Alligator Boy and The Tiger Girl spend the whole day just goofing off and being silly starting off with going on a Joyride in Alia's Van making donuts which makes Alia laugh with excitement but freaks out Arlo,and rolling around on the beach as the 2 roll and laugh on the sand as Alia gets a call)

Alia:(Answers)Hello?"

Tony:WHY AREN'T YOU DELIVERING THOSE PIZZAS!!!!!!????"

Alia:(Realizes she's still on the job)AWE FARTS I forgot about the deliveries I thought you gave them to me"

Tony:YES so you can deliver them to the Customers"

Alia:But you said I could leave"

Tony:Again to deliver Pizzas your literal job"

Alia:What am I gonna do?"

Arlo:Don't worry Alia I can help you"

Alia:Really you would?"

Arlo:Sure that's what friends do"

(The 2 then start to hand out the deliveries to all the customers and after hitting most of the houses each one has a special delivery in the form of songs dances and jokes causing Alia to laugh so hard as Arlo looks back at her with his thumb up seeing him in a New Light making her smile then blush at him as they made the final delivery)

Tony:Mama Mia that was a close one"

(The 2 Walk home)

Alia:Thanks you so much Arlo this is the most fun I had at work EVER it didn't even feel like work"

Arlo:Well I'm glad I could help you, you know I got your back because that's what friends are for"

Alia:Well I never had a friend like you"

Arlo:I aim to please heh heh"

Alia:(Smiles and Blushes)"

(They then arrive at Arlo's Apartment and Alia's Van)

Alia:I had a really fun day with you Arlo"

Arlo:I had fun too. You're a really fun person to be around Alia"

Alia:Awe stop it"

Arlo:No really when everyone was busy you took the time to hangout with me and even though it made your deliveries late like really really late,it was still fun to help you deliver them(the Tiger Girl smiles and blushes)"

Alia:Thank you Arlo"

(Alia walks to her Van but stops midway and turns around running to Arlo as she puts her paws on his cheek and in mere seconds......... Lands a kiss on the Gator Boy for a solid minute until she breaks off and both Alligator Boy and Tiger Girls stare at each other both eyes wide and blushing like crazy)

Arlo:(Stares at Alia with no words to say)Uuuuuuh"

Alia:Well look at that it's time for my shift"

Arlo:But.... It's nighttime"

Alia:LATE SHIFT! Okay gotta go bye(runs to her van and shuts the door)"

(Arlo enters the door to his home)

Bertie:Hey Arlo how was your day?"

Arlo:It was good..... Maybe.....not sure...I might need to write a song about it"

Bertie:Okay?(Confused)"

Arlo:(Walks up to his room but peeks out says)Alia kissed me...on the lips"

Bertie:Okay.....(realized what he said)WAIT ALIA WHAT!!!!!?"

(At Alia's Van the Lil Tiger is freaking out)

Alia:Awe man what did I do what did I do? I can't believe I kissed Arlo why did I do that? I mean he is nice and sweet and cute but he's like my Best Friend.... UUUGH what is wrong with me...... Not to mention what this does to our Friendship ooooh WHAT IF I RUINED EVERYTHING???!!"

Arlo:I mean it was strange but..... It was nice"

Bertie:Oh Arlo you had your first kiss... How was it"

Arlo:(Thinking of the perfect word).....Magical.... Oh but it must've messed Alia up I mean are we a couple now is that what she wants or was a stir of the Moment thing? Will this mess with our Friendship? BERTIE WHAT SHOULD I DO!!!!?"

Arlo/Alia:WHAT SHOULD I DOOOOOOO!!!!!???"

(What will happen between Arlo and Alia? Is this the start of something New or the End of a Great Friendship?)

To Be Continued......

.......In Part 2

[sarahrcubitt13]

The Secret Garden - Modern TV show pilot.

Okay let me explain - idea isnt finished but i gotta explain what im up too. I am a HUGGGGGE secret garden fan - top favourite novel ever since i was little, adore the bbc mini series, the animated film, the 1993 film was just beautiful... but the new film had a few things that just didnt work for me (real magic being the main one.... the magic being real just ruined what the theme of the book was.) so in talking about it with a pal we got chatting about how we'd adapt the book and i thought what about a moderniseation - like the Misselthwaite Archives but more!

So i sat down and tried just that; this is the opening main scenes but yeah thoughts?

Into The Garden

EPISODE 101 - Welcome to Misselthwaite

Written by; Sarah R Cubitt

ACT ONE

FADE IN:

EXT. LONDON - night

A downpour of rain. Rumble of thunder.

A High-End hotel. Lit up. Bustling with business.

Bell-boys with umbrella’s usher people hurriedly into the building from their car’s. Everyone is in high spirits.

UPBEAT music is softly playing from an upper Suite.

LAUGHTER and the CLINK of glasses. A celebratory party in full swing.

INT. high-end hotel - mary’s room - Night

Darkened hotel bedroom.

Unmade bed. An antique vase of SINGULAR RED ROSES - the only personal touch.

From the light of the cracked open door, the sounds of music and laughter increase.

INT. high-end hotel - upper suite floor - Night

A young girl, dressing gown and slippers on, sat in shadow at the top of the grand stairs.

MARY LENNOX (then 16), a stubborn, rebellious girl, is watching in interest as well-dressed adults glide into a large party. Her gaze on two figures in particular.

MRS ROSALIND LENNOX, who is meeting and greeting guests. In her element. Dressed to the nines, the bell of the ball. The most beautiful woman there - and she knows it.

Stiffly stood next to her is OFFICER ALBERT LENNOX, in military uniform. Clearly uncomfortable.

Albert glances up and spots Mary watching from the bannister. A genuine smile creeps onto his face. He winks to her - having caught her watching.

Mary smiles at this attention.

Rosalind follows his gaze up. She sees straight through Mary.

Mary’s smile drops.

Rosalind puts a hand on Albert’s arm.

Albert’s face falls as he turns his attention back to the guests.

Mary gets to her feet, scowling down at her mother, before moving off.

INT. high-end hotel - master bedroom SUITE - Night

A door CREAKS open. A sliver of light.

Mary tiptoes in, she looks around curiously.

An extravagant room.

Unlike Mary’s room, this one feels lived in. Clothes scattered about, a cluttered vanity, bed unmade. Personal touches everywhere.

Mary passes a table overflowing with photos in shiny frames. Mainly photos of Rosalind and Albert at events, or Rosalind on modelling shoots. The only photos of Mary are in older frames pushed to the back, hidden, and only her father is present in them with her.

Mary wanders over to the cluttered vanity.

Mary investigates her mother's things - greedily taking in the small glimpse into her mother's glamorous life.

Mary opens a music box. Waltz of the Flowers plays. An empty space where a dancer would be - forcefully snapped.

Among the bits and bobs inside is a FOLDED PICTURE.

Mary glances at the door. Just in case. No one is coming.

Tentatively Mary picks up the picture and unfolds it.

The picture shows FOUR PEOPLE stood in a garden, an ENGLISH MANOR house in the background. Young Rosalind and Albert are smiling happily with two others. A female, hair windswept, wide grin, arm looped with Albert’s, LILY LENNOX, and a male, smartly dressed, sickly pale, walking cane in hand, ARCHIBALD CRAVEN, looking adoringly at Lily.

Mary turns the photo, written on the back; “Lily and Archie’s engagement”.

MARY (whisper) So you’re my Aunt Lily

Mary drinks the photo hypnotized, her focus entirely on her Aunt - the family link between the two clear. Mary could be her double if she wasn’t so sour.

Mary is broken from her trance as someone approaches the room angrily.

ROSALIND (off-screen) Honestly, the things I do for that bloody vulture of a woman.

Mary dives under the bed to hide.

From under the bed; a pair of Louboutin heels and the bottom of a silk gown enter the room, expertly navigating their way to the vanity.

Mary peers out to watch her mother.

Rosalind throws back her head. Downing her drink. Clattered down the empty champagne flute on the vanity.

Studying the vanity, noting the music box is open.

A dark look crosses her face.

Rosalind bangs shut the music box. Music cuts off.

Rosalind lets out a sigh, forcing herself to relax before she glances at her reflection - taking in her perfect appearance.

KNOCK KNOCK.

UNKNOWN MALE Everything alright Mrs Lennox? Your husband sent me to find you.

Rosalind looks around flustered. A shadowy figure is seen by the room’s door.

Rosalind picks up an EXPENSIVE looking bracelet.

ROSALIND Oh, here it is! Sonja said she wanted to see what Berty bought me for our anniversary.

Rosalind lets out fake laugh before elegantly leaving the room.

The door CLICKS shut.

Mary lets out a breath.

Mary scrambles out from under the bed.

Mary CREAKS open the room door. She checks the hallway. Empty.

INT. high-end hotel - upper suite floor - Night

Swiftly Mary creeps back into her room.

INT. high-end hotel - mary’s room - Night

The room door is left ajar.

Mary’s eyes flutter shut to the sounds of the music and laughter, clutching the photo she found to her chest.

INT. high end hotel - mary’s room - Night

FLASH of lighting. THUNDEROUS rain.

SCREAMS are heard from downstairs.

Mary scrambles from her bed in a sleepy daze.

From the crack of the door she sees…

People frantically running from room to room. 
BANGING. SCREAMING. CHAOS.

Backing up in fear she runs to her bed. Hiding in the duvet, her hands to her ears willing the noise to stop.

Images blur and distort as if Mary has purposefully forgotten what happened exactly…

Screams are heard from all sides. Things clattering to the ground in people’s rush to escape.

Siren’s blaring. Camera’s flashing. Utter chaotic panic.

An echo of a voice is heard above the rest, frantic, but weakening.

ALBERT (echoing/worried) Mary! My Mary! Mary!!

The echoing of the voice gets louder and starts to change…

AGATHA CRAWFORD (annoyed) Mary. Mary Lennox.

INT. train carriage - late Afternoon

AGATHA CRAWFORD Mary Lennox! Wake up girl!

Mary (now 17) bolts awake with a start.

Mary glances around. She is in a train carriage. There are no screams of terror, just screams of young children.

Mary’s uneven breathing calms. She is safe.

Agatha’s attention is now on her squabbling children.

Mary’s shoulders slump as she falls back against her seat.

She glances at Agatha’s LOUD children with a look of disgust.

Mary rubs at her eyes before glancing at the window.

EXT. ENGLISH countryside - late Afternoon

A train is seen racing through the frost-covered countryside. Miles and miles of brown farmland on one side and a cliff with the sea crashing angrily on the other.

INT. train carriage - late Afternoon

AGATHA CRAWFORD For goodness sake girl, our station is next. Get your things together.

Mary whips her head around and scowls at the older woman.

Agatha misses the look due to another fight breaking out between her boys.

YOUNG GIRL Do you like it?

Mary looks around for the voice.

Sat opposite her is a small girl - adorably cute with pigtails.

Mary shoots her a confused look.

The little girl points out the window to the countryside.

YOUNG GIRL Out there. Mama says it's different from where you come from.

MARY (bluntly) No. I hate it.

Mary’s American accent is clearly heard.

The little girl looks shocked - not the expected answer. Thankfully she is saved a response as -

AGATHA CRAWFORD (calling) Jessica dear, come here.

Agatha ushers the girl over. Agatha and the boy’s next to her now in jackets.

Jessica glances to Mary before scarpering over to her mother - who proceeds to put on her jacket.

Mary lets out a sigh. Glancing out the window once again before getting to her feet.

EXT. COASTAL train station PLATFORM - late Afternoon

The train pulls into a station. Waves can be heard crashing in the distance.

Train doors open. A small crowd leave the train.

Wind whipping them all, causing people to pull jackets closer to them as they hurry off the platform.

Agatha and her children climb off. Agatha fussing them.

Mary climbs off behind the family.

Mary carries a single suitcase and hosting a backpack onto her shoulder. She glances around the bare-bones station. Unimpressed.

Agatha marches her children to the exit of the platform.

Agatha turns to see Mary isn’t following them.

AGATHA CRAWFORD For goodness sake girl, come on!

Agatha looks to her watch as she continues to off the platform.

Mary scowls but follows the woman and her children.

EXT. COASTAL train station - late Afternoon

Agatha and her children are stood at one end of the empty station entrance, and Mary is stood at the other - as far away as she could get from the family.

Agatha keeps looking at her watch then at the car park entrance - clearly expecting someone.

The two young boys next to her point to Mary before whispering to each other giggling.

The two start singing teasingly.

TWO YOUNG BOYS: (singing) Mary, Mary quite contrary, How does your garden grow? With silver bells, and cockle shells, And pretty maids all in a row.

Little Jessica can’t help but giggle at her brother’s teasing.

Mary glares at them all.

The two boys seem happy at getting a reaction. Laughing and continuing louder.

Little Jessica joins in. Quietly, heart not in it.

CHILDREN; (singing, louder) Mary, Mary quite contrary, How does your garden grow? With silver bells, and cockle shells, And pretty maids all in a row.

Mary scowls, rummaging through her bag. Pulling out headphones putting them in to drown out their singing.

Suddenly, a LAND ROVER rumbles into the car park.

The children’s singing trails off.

Mary pulls out one of the headphones. Eyes on the car.

The Land Rover SCREECHES to a stop. The engine switches off.

SARAH MEDLOCK, late early 40s, A formidable woman.

[janushawkins]

American Wand Cores: The Big Four (Canon)

While in Britain the “big three” are nearly the only wand cores seen, the american “big four” are more accurately the most powerful and often held in highest regard, but they are not even remotely the only cores used.

Horned Serpent Horn

An exceptionally powerful core, horned serpent wands are quite rare, and unheard of outside the american continents. Horned Serpents themselves are quite diverse, but may usually be grouped into either saltwater or freshwater serpents.

Horned serpent wands of any variety are very powerful in all areas of magic, they have a knack for magics to do with water and perform especially well in transfiguration and divination. 

Horned serpent wands are capable of warning their owners of danger by emitting a low musical tone. They are also unique in the behavior between twin cores, if two wands of horned serpent horns from the same serpent work together for a singular goal (often in combat) their power is increased exponentially.

Rather like the Ilvermorny house named after the creature, horned serpent wands prefer owners who are intelligent and quick-witted. However, their preferred owners are not bookish scholars who stay shut in a library all day, but rather creative and innovative individuals who enjoy exercising their mind and putting things they learn into practice. Absorbing information like a sponge, these wixes brilliant in subjects they find interesting and above average in those they don’t. They are constantly thinking. Wixes chosen by these wands are absolutely brilliant and fiercely independent.

The type of horned serpent has some bearing over what they look for in an owner as well. Horned Serpent horn wands from a salt-water horned serpent are playful in nature, and look for owners who share that lighthearted playfulness, these are extremely imaginative, spirited and outspoken wixes.

Fresh-water horns, on the other hand, seek owners who are pragmatic, secretive and a bit slow to trust. These wixes are often very cunning and patient.

Horned serpent wands are sensitive to Parseltongue and vibrate when it is being spoken. It is possible they favor owners capable of speaking in parseltongue.

“I like to keep a special eye on students who are chosen by these wands. I keep track, in a notepad in my desk drawer--right next to my paints and emergency bertie botts--of what individuals have wands from the same horned serpent, and watch patiently for the day when they discover the peculiar connection of their twin wands. Interestingly, if they do not already know each other, it seems they always naturally gravitate towards one another, becoming incredibly close and often becoming the best of friends or incredibly close partners.” - January Hawkins, Resident Wandmaker, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Thunderbird Tail Feather

One of the most powerful cores available, Thunderbird feather’s are somewhat rare, and make for mighty wands with power and range rivaling that of the british Phoenix feather wands.

Thunderbird feather core wands are incredibly powerful in most if not all areas of magic, and are especially good for transfiguration magics and any magic to do with weather, air and travel. Owners may have an exceptional talent for flying.

As powerful as these wands can be, Thunderbird feather wands are uniquely difficult to master, perhaps retaining the original creatures independent nature. However, once mastered they bond with their owner for life, and their allegiance is almost certain to never change.

Like  Thunderbirds themselves, these wands can sense danger and may preemptively cast curses to protect themselves and their owner, acting independently.

It is very rare to be chosen by a thunderbird wand, even most of those that match up to the cores preferences aren’t chosen, these wands wait for someone truly extraordinary, with the potential for greatness. Thunderbird feather wands seek owners with an adventurous spirit, as extraordinarily free and independent as the creature they came from. These wixes are natural travelers and loath having to stay put, always aching to explore the next horizon. Daring, adventurous and curious, they refuse to hold still or conform to any stifling rulesets. With the soul of a wanderer and the skills to seek the unknown, these individuals were born to run.

“When I say they’re picky, I mean it. I’ve gone 3 years in a row without a single thunderbird feather wand choosing a student, I’ve still got over half my original stalk! But when a student is chosen by one of these wands, I know they are destined for truly great things, those kids will see the world over and make a huge impact on it. I also know their restlessness is going to give the teachers hell.” - January Hawkins, Resident Wandmaker, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Wampus Cat Hair

Though a very powerful core, wampus hair wands are rather uncommon due to the incredible difficulty and danger of procuring the hairs. 

Wampus wands are quite powerful. They are renowned for their flexibility, becoming very strong in any forms of magic their owner favors. This core is also very good with magics to do with the mind, especially legilimency, and it can produce mind altering effects both dazzling and horrifying. 

Enchantments and charms created by wands with this core are known to be very long-lasting.

Wixese chosen by this core are often bold and always enigmatic. Possessing a somewhat nebulous view of good and evil, these individuals reject simple dichotomies of light and dark. However, this does not mean that they are evil or without conscience. Rather, they prefer a more complex morality that bases right and wrong on cause and effect rather than convention and idealism. Because of this they are more willing than others to use dark magic. They are also often fiercely protective of those they have accepted on their own, using any means necessary to defend what they hold dear.

Dripping charisma, these wixes have an intense presence, able to grip the attention of any room they enter. They have an air of unpredictability, as they fluctuate between decisions and emotions based on feedback from their environment. Constantly adapting to the current situation.

Wixes chosen by Wampus hair wands also tend to be incredibly resilient, able to survive more than most.  There is a trend of some level of magic-resistance in these wixes, It is unknown whether this is a pre-existing trait or one gained by bonding with a wand with this core.

“Just how a student chosen by a wampus hair wand will turn out is, ironically, black or white. While it is true that their complex and adaptable morality does not necessarily lead them down a dark path, I have seen many wixes chosen by a wampus hair wand become truly evil individuals. There are, however, a great many who have become heroes and healers, genuinely good people. One thing is absolutely certain, Owners of wands with a wampus hair core will always, ALWAYS go on to do great things, whether good or bad they will always be extraordinarily powerful, very likely passing into legend.” - January Hawkins, Resident Wandmaker, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Snallygaster Heartstring

A somewhat fickle wand core whose tendency towards change can make it difficult to master, Snallygaster Heartstrings are nonetheless the most powerful of the four major wand cores in North America, and have been highly prized in the american wizarding community. 

However, Snallygasters are not as plentiful a species as dragons, and the fact that taking this wand core requires killing one is causing a decline in their numbers, and as consequence a decline in snallygaster wands. There have been petitions to have this core banned in order to protect the species and many young wixes have taken a disliking to it.

Similar to Europe's dragon heartstring wands, wands with this core create some of the most dazzling and powerful spells. They can be considered a jack of all trades, as they perform admirably in every area of magic. It also excels at combat magics, and offensive spells often pack quite a punch. This wand does seem to be easier to turn to the dark arts.

For some reason, the visuals of spells cast with wands with this core are heightened. Light’s are brighter, colors are more intense and flashes are more erratic. These wands are also often incredibly sturdy for the wood they use, and almost impossible to break, no matter their flexibility.

Owners of wands with this core should have a firm hand to temper the wands fickle nature. This wand’s preferred owners are driven, ambitious and often focused on uncovering hidden truths. With unbreakable resolve and a deep curiosity, these wixes are natural born investigators, almost unstoppable in their pursuit of truth. 

This core suffers no fools, and refuses to work for individuals it sees as dim, lazy or lacking in sufficient drive. Wixes it chooses are often wise and animated, but if something doesn’t effectively capture their attention they will grow bored quickly and become restless, wishing to be anywhere else but where they are. 

These wixes are superb spellcasters who take very little time to master new magics, but this gift is more often attributed to being a natural with magic than an excellent study. It can seem that they were born with a wand in their hands.

“Even I’m growing uncomfortable with this core, I’ve been considering refusing shipments of it, or even snallygaster wands donated by other wandmakers… maybe the feather? It wouldn’t be as power-... but… we wouldn’t need to kill any… Um… So this is the last one we’re talking about today? I can just go now? Great, I’m gonna go find some… uh… I’m gonna try something-- bye!” - January Hawkins (he just started rambling about feathers and disaperated, wtf is with this guy?)

[raging-violets]

Harry Potter OC Ask Game: Verity Calvert

No one asked me to do this, but HP has been on my mind lately (when I really should be finishing another chapter I’ve procrastinated on for ages), and I figured this was a chance to think through and organize ideas for my OC. So, here we go!

-Rhuben

PS: This is the OC, btw I’ve given myself too many faceclaim choices for. Kathryn Prescott I chose first, specifically because she’s underused, but I’ve also more recently been looking at Natalia Dyer (but feel like a LOT of people use her), Alexis Bledel, or Emily Rudd. Any opinions would be great.

What is their blood status (pureblood, muggleborn, etc)? What are their thoughts on the concept of blood status?

She would tell you her blood status is Pure-Blood. Blood status was never something she really thought about so much as she’s aware of how her parents keep telling her that it’s important for her to align herself with Pure-Blood families. Being Ministry workers (and overall a well known family - they have a lot of money), they have, just like Madeline’s teacher at Beauxbatons, always informed her about the importance of a good wizarding image and/or being a respectable member of Wizard Society. Funny thing is; she doesn’t realize she’s actually half-blood.

What is their wand wood and core?

Her wand is Beech Wood with a Dragon Heartstring core

Do they bring a pet to Hogwarts with them?

Yes, she brings her Great Hearned Owl, Nyx

What Hogwarts house were they sorted into? Why did the hat put them in that house over the others? Was it a quick sorting or a hatstall? Are they happy with their sorting? What Hogwarts house would they least fit into?

After transferring from Beauxbatons in her third year (despite the fact that most people have no idea where Beauxbatons is exactly, Madeline’s parents feel she’d be safer at Hogwarts under Dumbledore), she’s sorted into Gryffindor.

The decision was quick, but it confuses her as she’s always made top marks, and she believes she should be in Ravenclaw.

She’s not entirely happy with her sorting, and feels like that’s the one she least fits into, as she feels that she doesn’t show brave or courageous qualities as she’s always gone along with whatever her parents and teachers have told her to do. This also contributed to her success with her education as her act of rebellion at her home, whenever her parents would have Ministry co-workers over, was to hide out in the library and read.

What subject is their favorite at Hogwarts? Which is their least favorite? Is their favorite the same as their best subject?

Her favorite subject is Charms, least favorite is Astronomy. Her best subject is Potions. The theory behind magic is something Madeline excels at, but the wandwork behind spells and such, she has a harder time with.

What electives do they chose in third year?

Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy (she chooses to study Alchemy when she gets to her sixth year). She also has been known to spend her free time in the Hospital Wing with Madame Pomfrey, learning all about about the world of magical medicine.

Do they earn more house points or do they lose more?

Both. She earns them through her answering corrections correctly in class and following he rules, but also, as she finds her voice, loses them as she learns to speak up for herself

How do they do on their OWLs? On their NEWTs?

Verity does very well on her OWLS and NEWTs. She always viewed getting good marks as a sign of being well-taught and ready to enter the magical world as a respected member of magical society.

Thoughts on Quidditch? Do they play? And if so what position do they play?

Verity enjoys Quidditch. She’s a reserve member of the Gryffindor team playing Chaser.

What Wizarding treat (bertie botts, chocolate frogs, etc.) is their favorite?

By far, it’s a tie between Sugar Quills and Butterbeer

What is their Patronus? What happy memory do the use to conjure it?

Her patronus is a Dove. Her happy memory when she first successfully conjures it was the day he wand chose her.

What is their Boggart? What happens to it when they cast Riddikulus?

One of Verity’s biggest fears is drowning. Whether that’s actually in the literal sense or metaphorical; for example if she feels like she’s fallen too far behind with her homework and more and more keeps being piled on top of it.

At first, her boggart would be an image of herself drowning, but in air. Essentially she’d watch herself choke to death.

When she casts riddikulus, it turns into a mime. (Which I understand is scary for some people)

What does Amortentia smell like to them?

Lavender, Fresh Bread/Crepes/Pastries, Mountain Air

What spell is their favorite? Which do they use the most?

Her favorite spell is Stupefy. She uses Protego and Impedimenta often. Bombarda is possibly considered her signature spell.

If they needed it, what form would the Room of Requirement take for them?

A place to escape is the shortest answer: over the years, she just wanted to get away from her home and her parents. In her house, that area was the library. Hogwarts has one of those. The Room of Requirement would fill that sort of need for her when everything got to be too much. If at all possible, the room would take on the look of the mountains, much like how one of the first floor classrooms was transformed into a forest for Firenze.

If they trained as an Animagus what form would they take?

Probably some sort of stealthy animal; and her special marking would be a patch in the shape of a bow (because Madeline wears a lot of bows).

What do they do/want to do after Hogwarts?

Growing up, she wanted to be a Healer or a MediWizard; she likes animals and enjoys taking care of not only them, but people. Partly to overcome her feeling that she wasn’t really taken care of growing up, more groomed to look a certain way. It helped during the growing threat of Voldemort’s return, and when searching for Horcruxes with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Later in life, she also gained some notoriety for creating a “field guide” of sorts to help people learn how to create antidotes and the like when away from supplies such as cauldrons.

She would probably go into Magical Law, or, if it’s a thing, Archiving. She’s gone so long in her life with the world forgetting about her, (later on being dubbed, The Girl Who Disappeared), she doesn’t want anyone else to go through it.

Which Unforgivable Curse would they be most likely to use? What would be the reason for it?

Crucio; she has a lot of deep-seated anger in herself. She would never want anyone to die, but to feel even a tiny bit of the pain she’s felt, is something that’s crossed her mind a time or two. Prolonged torture as a whole, however, isn’t something she can wrap her head around.

Which Unforgivable Curse would they hate to have used on them the most?

Impero; because she’s already lived a long life of everyone else telling her what to do, or how to look. She no longer wishes to be under anyone’s control but herself.

Which Deathly Hallow (wand, stone, or cloak) would they want? Why?

The Resurrection Stone; it’d be nice for her to get advice from some of her friends/family that passed on. Or just to get general reassurance.

[vicandsade]

1941-12-12 - Mr. Buller’s Christmas Gifts: (alternate titles: 34 Christmas Gifts for $20, Christmas Shopping for Mr. Buller)

[See additional commentary at The Crazy World of Vic and Sade]

[hear the episode here or here]

We have three familiar Vic & Sade tropes here: 1) an episode whose structure seems to be an excuse for Paul Rhymer to make up a list of hilarious names and addresses; 2) one of Vic’s bosses making an egregious violation of boundaries; and 3) Christmas as a source of social strain. We also have a theme that is less commented, but is something I remember talking about with my grandma when I interviewed her about Vic & Sade: it’s a show from the 1940s, a time when women were relegated to a few traditional roles, but were slowly beginning to challenge them. It’s a show written primarily for an audience of women, who were the ones at home during the day listening. And, while it was written by a man, he seemed to understand so much about what women were experiencing.

If your news feed is even a little feministy, like mine, you may have heard that “Society is finally beginning to notice the issue of mental load, and the very gendered nature of it”. Well, here, all the way back in 1941, we have an episode that is all about the unacknowledged mental load -- or "women’s work,” as it might’ve been called back then. Also known as “lady stuff.”

SADE: Nuisance? It’s a lot more than just a nuisance. It’s a big mean job of work.

VIC: Well, I didn’t know, kiddo.

SADE: No, you never know. That’s the “man” of it.

VIC: Most trivial thing in the world. Handed me a wad of bills and said, “Gook, here’s twenty dollars. Next time the missus goes shoppin’, ask her to pick me up a few Christmas presents and mail them.”

SADE: Oh!

VIC: Well, that’s not much of a chore, is it?

SADE: I hafta pick out a buncha presents, wrap ‘em, address ‘em, mail ‘em, huh?

VIC: Well, I never thought anything about it, Sade. I imagined it was something you could maybe do in five minutes.

Mr. Buller is being really gross, Vic is being dense, and Sade is right to be wrathful. He shows a complete lack of awareness of a) what kinds of things his close relatives might like, b) how much stuff costs, c) how much time and effort and thought and personal knowledge Christmas shopping for this many people takes, d) and WRAPPING, e) and MAILING, f) and how much postage costs... This stuff isn’t trivial. And because Buller is unaware of what the work actually involves, he has not given Sade anywhere near enough information to complete the task well. Sade is supposed to know what to buy everyone based purely on their names and addresses, using her magical female brain, and be able to stretch $20 between 34 people (okay, so that’s about $350 in 2020 dollars, which sounds like a lot, but subtract a chunk for postage and you’re left with about ten bucks a person -- not nothing, but not much). 

But Vic is a good guy. As soon as he sees how mad Sade is, he admits he’s wrong (“Okay. I’m a fathead.”), even though he still doesn’t quite understand why. As Sade asks him pointed questions and he realizes how little he’s thought this through, he begins to see what he’s gotten her into. At the end, they are a perfect team again: Vic volunteers to do the mailing and wrapping, and Sade, her mood improved by the pure ridiculousness of some of the names on Buller’s list, accepts Vic’s suggestion to just buy everyone handkerchiefs. Problem solved.

Also of note: this is apparently the first use of the name Ishigan (Hishigan?) Fishigan from Sishigan Michigan, who will come up frequently later on as a personal friend of Uncle Fletcher’s. 

Transcript

ANNOUNCER: Well sir, it’s early evening as we enter the small house halfway up in the next block now, and here in the living room we find Mr. and Mrs. Victor Gook. Vic has apparently said something to upset his wife, because she’s regarding him wrathfully. Listen.

SADE: Nuisance? It’s a lot more than just a nuisance. It’s a big mean job of work. 

VIC: Well, I didn’t know, kiddo.

SADE: No, you never know. That’s the “man” of it.

VIC: Most trivial thing in the world. Handed me a wad of bills and said, “Gook, here’s twenty dollars. Next time the missus goes shoppin’, ask her to pick me up a few Christmas presents and mail them.”

SADE: Oh!

VIC: Well, that’s not much of a chore, is it?

SADE: I hafta pick out a buncha presents, wrap ‘em, address ‘em, mail ‘em, huh?

VIC: Well, I never thought anything about it, Sade. I imagined it was something you could maybe do in five minutes. 

SADE: Uh, that’s the “man” of it. I bet if somebody give you a bucket of paint and a brush and said “Next time the missus is down on Center Street, ask her to put a coupla coats of green paint on the People’s Bank Buildin’,” you’d take it.

VIC: Oh, hey! A ray of sunshine! Buller wants you to buy yourself a Christmas present. He’ll pay ya for your trouble.

SADE: What kind of a Christmas present?

VIC: Any kind you want, I guess. Take it out of the twenty dollars.

SADE: [disgusted] Oh, Vic.

VIC: Okay. I’m a fathead.

SADE: How many Christmas presents am I supposed to pick out?

VIC: I got a list here in my pocket.

SADE: Well, let’s see it.

VIC: Buller says, “I’m a bachelor, Gook. I don’t know what to buy for people. Think your missus’d help me out?”

SADE: Is that the list?

VIC: Yeah. Uh, “Mr. and Mis’ R.K. Lieferts, 1109 West Kilgore Avenue, Pittsburgh, Ohio.”

SADE: Well, who are Mr. and Mis’ R.K. Lieferts 1109 West Kilgore Avenue Pittsburgh Ohio?

VIC: I dunno.

SADE: Are they Mr. Buller’s cousins or uncles or in-laws or something?

VIC: [sheepish chuckle] I dunno.

SADE: What shall I buy for them?

VIC: Oh, heck.

SADE: How much shall I spend on them?

VIC: Well, have a heart, kiddo.

SADE: Read the next name.

VIC: If I’m to be tortured and made miserable over this, I’m almost tempted to take the job on myself.

SADE: [laughs] You go right ahead.

VIC: It don’t strike me as such a task, walkin’ in a department store and pickin’ up a few odds and ends.

SADE: Don’t it?

VIC: No.

SADE: Read the next name on the list.

VIC: Uh, “Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry, and Edna Gooding, Rural Route 8, Minneapolis, Minnesota.”

SADE: Is that all one family? 

VIC: I s’pose. All got the same last name, Gooding.

SADE: Are they children?

VIC: I dunno.

SADE: Does Mr. Buller want 'em each to have a separate present, or does he want just a single present for the whole outfit?

VIC: I expect you can use your own judgment on that. ‘Cause he says, “Tell the missus she’s a free agent, Gook. Won’t make the slightest difference to me what she picks out.”

SADE: Read off them names again.

VIC:  “Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry, and Edna Gooding.”

SADE: Six cigars, or shall I buy baby rattles?

VIC: Well, I imagine they’re children.

SADE: Do ya? What makes you imagine that?

VIC: They sound like children.

SADE: “Sound like”?

VIC: Oh, seven, maybe?

SADE: Brothers and sisters, you s’pose? 

VIC: Yeah. 

SADE: Six brothers and sisters, all age seven. Boy, there’s an outfit that’s got that Canadian family with their quintuplets backed off the map.

VIC: Send ‘em handkerchiefs. You can’t go wrong on handkerchiefs no matter what their age is.

SADE: Any others on your list?

VIC: Uh, quite a few more.

SADE: Uh.

VIC: “Mr. and Mis’ Margaret Gack, 218 South Union Boulevard, [Humphrey Sidin’], Michigan.”

SADE: Mr. and Mrs. Margaret Gack?

VIC: That’s what Buller’s got jotted down here.

SADE: Is the man’s name Margaret?

VIC: I presume.

SADE: What kind of a Christmas present would you pick out for a Mr. Margaret Gack?

VIC: Handkerchief.

SADE: Handkerchief for Mrs. Margaret Gack too?

VIC: Sure.

SADE: Oh.

VIC: “Miss Olive Soppers, 213,529 North Oak Street, Seattle, Iowa.” [quietly] That can’t be right...

SADE: Miss Olive Soppers lives at 213,529 North Oak Street.

VIC: [chuckles] That can’t be right.

SADE: Her home must be right near the edge of town.

VIC: Buller musta made a mistake.

SADE: When are you gonna see Buller again?

VIC: Sometime in January.

SADE: Oh.

VIC: “Cora, Mildred, Arnold, Alan, and Bertie Feech. Anderson, Wyoming.”

SADE: Brothers and sisters?

VIC: I imagine.

SADE: What age do they sound like?

VIC: Oh, heck, kiddo...

SADE: Twenty-two?

VIC: My handkerchief idea is a solution to this whole business. Everybody uses handkerchiefs.

SADE: Read me some more nice names.

VIC: Uhh, “Reverend Griswold J. Fix...Fix...” Holy smoke. 

SADE: What’s the matter?

VIC: This name. I can’t pronounce it. F, I, X, O, L, M, H, T, H, R, Y. “Fixolmhthry,” I guess.  “Reverend Griswold J. Fixolmhthry.”

SADE: Where does he live? Nineteen million six hundred and eight thousand four hundred and two West Grove Street? 

VIC: Lives at 716 Creeper Boulevard, Yatchman, Texas.

SADE: Suppose he’d like a nice handkerchief?

VIC: Probably be charmed with a nice handkerchief.

SADE: Is that all the people?

VIC: No, uh... “Emmett Chindle, Jr. and Moses.”

SADE: Moses?

VIC: Yeah.

SADE: Who’s Moses?

VIC: Maybe his little boy.

SADE: Or his horse, or his dog, or his butler, or his uncle.

VIC: Well, it was awful sloppy, the way he jotted down these names. 

SADE: Uh.

VIC: “Emmett Chindle, Jr. and Moses, Room 619, Indianapolis, Wisconsin.”

SADE: Room...619, Indianapolis, Wisconsin?

VIC: Yeah.

SADE: That’s some dandy address. 

VIC: Emmett Chindle, Jr. and Moses probably live in some hotel and Buller carelessly forgot to put it down.

SADE: Uh-huh.

VIC: “Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry, and Edna Jackson, Rural Route Ten, Funnel Orchard, Montana.”

SADE: Well, that’s the same outfit you read before.

VIC: Uh-uh.

SADE: Well, sure it is! Look up at the top of your list there.

VIC: Oh, uh...

SADE: Well, I remember those names.

VIC: Oh, no, by George! 

SADE: Sure. Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry...

VIC: Whoa, wait a minute. The people up at the top of the list are named Gooding. And they live in Minnesota. This other gang’s name is Jackson, and they live in Montana.

SADE: Both outfits got the same bunch of first names? 

VIC: Yeah. “Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry, and Edna Gooding. Rural Route 8, Minneapolis, Minnesota.” And down here, “Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry, and Edna Jackson. Rural Route 10, Funnel Orchard, Montana.”

SADE: Quite a coincidence.

VIC: Yeah. 

SADE: Any more nice people?

VIC: Uh, “Culvert C. Culvert, Culvert Culvert Company, Culvert Buildin’, 2126 Culvert Street, Culvert, Kentucky.”

SADE: Oh, come now!

VIC: No, that’s down here!

SADE: Let’s see once.

VIC: Hm.  “Culvert C. Culvert, Culvert Culvert Company, Culvert Buildin’, 2126 Culvert Street, Culvert, Kentucky.”

SADE: [gasp] Hey, look at all those names!

VIC: Is quite a few.

SADE: How much money did Mr. Buller give ya?

VIC: Twenty dollars.

SADE: And outta that twenty dollars’ll hafta come postage and everything.

VIC: Well, twenty dollars oughta stretch out okay if you buy handkerchiefs. I should think twenty dollars would last--

[telephone rings]

SADE: Telephone’s ringin’, telephone’s ringin’. I’ll get it.

VIC: Fred and Ruthie.

SADE: Wouldn’t be surprised. Feel like five hundred?

VIC: Sure. “Mr. and Mrs. Joel Eggwalk, Wilkers, South Dakota.”

SADE: Suppose those people are all Mr. Buller’s relations?

VIC: I imagine a good many are.

SADE: [answers phone] Yes? Oh, yes, Fred! Just had an idea it was you. [pause]  No, not a thing in the world. [pause] Why, I bet we’d jump at the chance. [pause] Sure. [pause] All right, Fred, we’ll be lookin’ for ya. [pause] You bet, Fred. You bet. [pause] Goodbye, Fred. [hangs up] He has to pump up a tire. They’ll be here in half an hour or so.

VIC: Uh-huh. Here’s some relations.

SADE: Uh?

VIC: “Glenn, Stover, Helen, Willis, and Farstaw Buller, 560 West Wilk Street, Mexico City, Connecticut.”

SADE: Hm.

VIC: Here’s the last name on the list.

SADE: Hm.

VIC: “Ishigan Fishigan, Sishigan, Michigan.”

SADE: [bursts out laughing] What?

VIC: [laughing] The fella’s name is Fishigan. First name is Ishigan. Lives in a town called Sishigan. It’s in Michigan.

SADE: [laughing] Oh, no!

VIC: [laughing] Yeah! Ishigan Fishigan, Sishigan, Michigan! 

SADE: [laughing] Oh, my stars!

VIC: I’m glad to see your good humor’s restored, Sadie.

SADE: [laughing] Uh-huh. How many names on that list?

VIC: Uh, thirty-four. Can ya...get thirty-four good handkerchiefs for twenty bucks?

SADE: [still laughing] Oh, sure. 

VIC: How much you estimate the postage’ll cost?

SADE: Oh, say five dollars.

VIC: Leaves fifteen dollars for handkerchiefs.

SADE: Uh-huh.

VIC: Well, that’s in the neighborhood of, uh...forty-five cents per handkerchief. Can ya get a pretty good grade handkerchief for forty-five cents?

SADE: Oh, get wonderful handkerchiefs for forty-five cents. 

VIC: I’ll...handle the mailin’ and stuff.

SADE: All right.

VIC: I’ll help ya wrap the packages, too, if you’ll handle the addressin’.

SADE: [chuckles] All right.

VIC: I like to do favors for Buller, because after all, he’s a big shot in the company, and he can--

[telephone rings]

SADE: Telephone’s ringin’, telephone’s ringin’.

VIC: Eh. Good old “Kindly Keep Off The Grass,” “Never Look a Gift Horse In the Mouth,” trustworthy Bluetooth Johnson. 

SADE: Bluetooth is with Rush down at the YMCA. 

VIC: Hm.

SADE: [answers phone] Yes?  [pause] Oh, yes, Fred. [pause] Oh, now, hey! [pause] No, but you’re always treating! [pause] Well, all right. [chuckles] If you wanna throw your lovely spondulix to the four winds. [to VIC] What flavor ice cream ya want?

VIC: Maple.

SADE: Why do you constantly say maple? You appreciate Fred despises maple.

VIC: Tutti frutti.

SADE: He despises tutti frutti also. 

VIC: What don’t he despise?

SADE: Chocolate.

VIC: Okay. Chocolate. 

SADE: [on phone] Fred? [pause] Vic is shoutin’ and screamin’ his head off clamorin’ for chocolate flavor. [pause] Yes. [pause] Yes. [pause] Fine. [pause] All righty, Fred. [pause] Goodbye. [hangs up] “Maple!”

VIC: Well, heck!

SADE: [giggles] How’s that young lady’s address there on Mr. Buller’s list that lives so far out?

VIC: Uh, “Miss Olive Soppers, 213,529 North Oak Street, Seattle, Iowa.”

SADE: [chuckles] And who are the people who live in the room? 

VIC: “Emmett Chindle, Jr. and Moses, Room 619, Indianapolis, Wisconsin.”

SADE: [laughing] And the culvert fella?

VIC: “Culvert C. Culvert, Culvert Culvert Company, Culvert Building, 2126 Culvert Street, Culvert, Kentucky.”

SADE: [laughing] And the man that’s name and address and everything all rhyme?

VIC: “Mr. Ishigan Fishigan of Sishigan, Michigan.”

ANNOUNCER: Which concludes another brief interlude at that small house halfway up in the next block. But be sure to come along when we visit Vic and Sade the next time.

[neonbluewaves]

Can I request 17-19 with Neon?

Thank u so much anon, specially for asking only three because otherwise these will get sooo long :v

-And then dad told me that I was not allowed to get a piercing. Ever. But it’s my body and I do what I want, you know? Quite literally, too

Neon and Tonks sat on a bench in an empty corridor, the holidays were coming and students were busy packing. Like other years Tonks will cram everything in her trunk last minute and lose a couple of socks on her way to the Express, and like other years, Neon will stay with Nuria in the castle and let the days pass by until classes start again.

-Well you can always ask Jae, he’s known how to do them since year four. But if he tells you he’s giving you a discount don’t trust him, he’ll just give you a high price first and then the actual one so you think he’s being generous.

-Wait, how do you know this? Do you have any piercings?

Neon stares at Tonks for a solid minute before picking all her hair, moving it out of the way so Tonks could see her right ear, showing an industial one at the top, a black ring and a small diamond on the upper lobe and her usual black thick ring at her lobe, then turned her head showing the left ear, an orbital piercing with a small cross and lower on her lobe, again, her characteristic long earring with the three beads and spike.

-I don’t know, Tonks.- she says letting her mane fall down once again. She sticks out her tounge letting her see her last piercing before asking.- do I?

Tonks scratches behind her head embarassed before letting out a small “kinda forgot all that for a moment”. They stay in silence for a while before Tonks opens her mouth again

-So how did your parents react when they saw all those?

She wonders for a moment what to say. The truth obviously not, now’s not the time to open up about dear ol’ mama and papa in a hospital with no notion of the passing time. But saying the haven’t noticed yet won’t do, because they aren’t that hard to see, so instead she just says

-They kinda flipped out but they’re getting used to them.

And Tonks is satisfied with that answer because she just nods. It’s come to a place where Neon feels like Tonks is actually her friend, but she doesn’t share, it’s not her thing, and she doesn’t want her pity, or anyone’s, so she keeps her life as much of a mystery as possible. Then she remembers that year she got Tonks that silly present she found thanks to Peeves. But the thought of her giving Tonks a present that was laying around instead of buying her something now seemed cruel and lazy. Then again back at that year she didn’t really care much about them all. She really had changed huh. Letting out a breath she gets up and holds out her hand for Tonks to take.

-C’mon, let’s go get you that piercing you want, Jae hasn’t packed yet for sure, I’ll pay, it’s my christmas present this year

Tonks gladly takes her hand, a radiant smile on her face, but instead of letting go she uses this to drag Neon towards the common room

-So, do you wanna get any more piercings?- she asks as they practically run through the corridor

-Maybe on the clavicle, who knows, just to be that original

If there’s one thing Tulip learnt quickly, upon meeting Neon Welkin, is that both her and her brother were very hard to guess what they would do or say next. They were a Bertie Bott’s every flavour beans box, obviously full of beans, but you’d never guess what flavors are in there unless you open that box and start tasting every bean. 

Both her and Merula had looked everything they had found in Jacob’s room, studied every paper and knew that place like the palm of their hand. But they only saw that. The palm of a hand. Neon got inside that room and took a good look at everything before turning to Tulip and asking “did you find any notebooks? pictures? puzzles?” no, they had not. Just hints that apparently had led them nowhere, since Neon had been the one to enter the othe first Vault before them. She went to a corner, oposite to the entrance while muttering a sad sounding “dissapointing”. She had known Neon for a couple of days and she had managed to irk her with one single word. She picked up a pretty big wooden box and turned it around, broke a small piece from the bottom and a small notebook appeared. “Tadaa” she waved the notebook in front of her face “it was a cute attempt, what you and Merula did, really, very cute.” she scrunched her face in a mocking way, and now Tulip really wished Merula were here to wipe it off, but then she opened the book and showed Tulip a page, talking about some signs he had written and what it could mean, and her tone went from teasing to teaching, and they found some new information by re-arranging some hints. Truly and unexpected surprise.

This time, after two years in this room, they found something that wasn’t related to the Vaults. It quite schocked Neon so she didn’t know what to make of it. It was a picture of a beach. The waves slowly moving towards the sand, and a very pretty woman standing there, holding her staw hat so the breeze doesn’t take it away from her head.

-That’s my mom.- Tulip feels a similar feeling to whiplash. She didn’t imagine her mother to look like that. She didn’t really know how she imagined Mrs.Welkin to look like, honestly. It would have been like Neon, but she had heard before that she looked just like her that, so honestly, there wasn’t anything set in her mind. Still seeing the beautiful young woman looking effortlesly stunning would be shocking for anyone.

-I know this beach, it’s ‘Sainte-Marie’, we went there a couple of times when I was little.

Neon was looking at the photograph with certain sadness and nostalgia. Tulip could picture the woman holding a little Neon near the water so she could splash around a bit.

-What’s your favourite thing to do at the beach? - she asks before she can stop herself. As if Neon would say just like that. It took her a lot to tell her about her parents, she wouldn’t--My brother and I used to make sandcastles, they were terrible, but with some imagination they looked like real life castles. We’d go swimming, looking for seashells or any kind of treasure really, and after that we’d stay under the beach umbrella to play cards with dad and mom, I’d team up with dad and I din’t know what was going on, but we pretended I was the one calling the shots and winning. He told me if I won against him once I had learnt he’d build me a house there.

Tulip had listened to all that in awe, as Neon had been talking the corners of her mouth slightly went up, and her expression softened and her eyes seemed a little wet, shinning like a precious ruby. 

-A house there seems lovely.

And Neon bites her lip, because she almost says “then I’ll take you there sometime”.

+ + + + +

-Do you think the average person has the potential to be a hero?

She had read those words somewhere, she didn’t remember where exactly, or when. The question seemed to suddenly pop into her head as she walks up the stairs leaving towards the cursed door guarding the Vault.

The ice had spread throughout the castle, professors, and some students alike, doing their best to help those trapped. Suddenly she realized why that came to mind. Now their safety was in Neon’s hands. Risking oneself to protect others, wasn’t that what heroes did? They thought of what was best for everyone. Was she doing this for that reason, or just the selfish thought of finally finding Jacob, of finally seeing her parents wake from their slumber? She didn’t know. She was too stupid to have answers. 

Bill and Penny were right next to her. Were they heroes? they certainly seemed to have the cualities they did. They had agreed to help out of the goodness in their heart, they were kind, good people. She wasn’t that. She was mean and rude, and she got them to help because they had certain abilities she didn’t.

When they had finally managed to open the door, a knight with a sword came out of it, a gust of wind coming from behind him, and in two sweeps with his sword the walking armor does, Bill and Penny find themselves trapped in a chunk of ice.

Neon’s nose and lungs hurt from breathing in the freezing air around the room. She has some frost on her sweater, pants and face. She’s starting to get tired, and the armor is not. It’s not human after all. She’s been holding her ground pretty well if she says so herself, specially for a second year, but she has to stop it soon, or God knows what will be of her companions’ limbs if they stay frozen for long. 

Can an average person be a hero? Maybe so. To Neon they looked like average people, living average lives. Maybe Bill and Penny were heroes.

She wasn’t average, and she wasn’t a hero. And right now, as she pointed her wand towards the enemy she decided she was fine with this, because the “heroes” were in need of saving, and Neon was their hope. So screw being a hero, she though, she was extraordinary, a force of nature, unstoppable. And a silly medieval costume could stop two heroes, but it wouldn’t stop Neon Welkin.

[sweetsmalldog]

Welcome To Hogwarts pt 1

Description: Curt goes to Hogwarts

Warnings: This has stuff on my opinions about how the environment around Hogwarts especially with Gryffindor and Slytherin

Author’s note: I was going to post this on like Wednesday but then I realized it was September First and audibly went “I gotta get back to Hogwarts”

Curt has convinced his mom not to come with him to Platform 9 3/4, it had taken a lot of pleading, a promise to write immediately after getting sorted, and agreeing not to take anything from his uncle’s office (which he did anyways). He had saved himself the embarrassment of his mother would inevitably bring and the immediate whispers about past things that didn’t concern the people talking about them.

He had gotten on the train as soon as possible, having easily outmaneuvered the guy who was supposed to “watch him” he didn’t need a babysitter he was twelve now. Now alone in a train car he could take out the enchanted parchment...

“Can I sit in here everywhere else is full?” A voice questions.

Curt looks up to see a girl with bright red hair and a cat on her shoulder looking back at him. On one hand he really didn’t want to sit with anyone but Owen. On the other hand he wanted more then one friend.

“Of course.” He smiles suddenly grateful for the years of edict training his mother had forced on to him.

“Thanks.” She replies as she slips into the cart quickly stowing her bag before sitting across from him and sticking her hand out “I’m Tatiana and this is Bran.” She nods to her cat.

“Curt.” He shakes her hand feeling almost giddy, he was talking to someone without his mother doing a twenty minute interrogation first.

They sit in comfortable silence. Neither feeling the need to speak, it feels nice. Soon the trolley came.

“Anything from the trolley?” The trolley lady asks.

Tatiana looks at all the sweets slightly confusedly. Curt makes a decision.

“We’ll take a few of everything.” Curt hands the trolley lady a small bag of gallons.

Tatiana looks at him in surprise “We’ll?”

“I can’t eat all of this by myself.” Curt smiles “What do you want to start with?”

“I- well I don’t really know what any of it is.” Tatiana stutters.

“Oh!” Curt realizes, she’s new to the whole being a wizard thing, “Well Chocolate frogs are enchanted chocolate, they’ve got some nice cards in them, some people collect them. Cauldron cakes aren’t really my favorite but they aren’t bad. The trolley doesn’t sell Peppermint Imps but I’m sure I can convince someone to give us some. I don’t suggest starting with Bertie Bott’s every flavour beans those are better in groups anyways. I suggest starting with Pumpkin Pasties.”

“O-Ok.” Tatiana smiles back as she grabs some Pumpkin Pasties “Why doesn’t the trolley sell Peppermint Imps?”

“They make you breathe fire.” Curt replies casually.

“What!” Tatiana looks at him with surprise in her eyes.

“It doesn’t hurt” Curt assures her “They sell them down in Hogsmead though it’s not like we’ll be able to go there this year.”

“Hogsmead?” Tatiana questions in between bites.

“It’s the only completely Wizard only town in the UK. We can’t go because we’re not third years yet.” Curt explains before grabbing a chocolate frog.

They spent the entire ride talking. Curt is ecstatic. He can’t wait to introduce Tatiana to Owen! Thinking of Owen fills him with guilt though. They were supposed to ride the train together. He hoped Owen wasn’t going to be to mad about it. Soon the train comes to a halt.

“We’re here!” Curt smiles as he stands.

They walk off the train and hear a man calling “First years this way!”

They rush over to the small crowd of other first years around the man. Curt can’t see Owen though. Tatiana sticks close to him. They walk down a dirt path. The moon shines threw the trees. Curt starts to feel jumpy as he strains his eyes to look threw the crowds, where’s Owen? Soon they reach the lake and a small fleet of docked row boats.

“Four to a boat, except the two with me.” The large man explains as he starts helping the students into the boats.

Tatiana quickly half-drags Curt to the last boat the large man walks towards. Curt doesn’t question it after all their are no other boats left. Soon their rowing towards the castle, their almost to Hogwarts. Curt takes a moment to enjoy just how amazing the castle looks, figuring he’ll never see it at night again. The moon reflects on the crystal clear water. Hogwarts looks other worldly with all the windows glowing.

A person stands waiting for them as they get to the dock. They help everyone get out and the large man directs their attention to them before leaving.

“I’m Professor Susan.” They say before gesturing at the students to follow them.

Tatiana marvels at the castle as they walk threw the marble corridors and past the grand stair cases “This is amazing”

“It really is” Curt agrees though he isn’t really looking at the castle, he’s looking for Owen. They stop before a set of huge grand doors, the doors to the Great Hall.

“Wait here” Professor Susan instructs before walking away.

Curt glances around for his best friend again, where was Owen?

“What’s going to happen next?” Tatiana whispers to him nervously “How does the sorting work?”

“I don’t know.” Curt admits “My mom says it wasn’t scary though.”

“Do you think we’re going to be sorted in front of the entire school?” Tatiana asks nervously.

“I hope not.” Curt murmurs.

Professor Susan renters “Please follow me.”

Curt feels awkward entering the Great Hall. He feels like everyone is staring at him, like everyone already knows who he was. And he hates it.

They’re about to find out anyways his inner monologue points out you can’t stop that they’re all going to be whispering about it once your name is called.

Curt tries not to think about that as the reach the front. Sitting in front of them is a stool and an old brown hat. The hat starts talking but Curt doesn’t pay attention, he’s to busy panicking.

How is everyone going to react? Will Tatiana ditch him when she found out, He’s sure someone would tell her. Will his house boo him when he sits down? Will the other houses boo him when he sits? Then he’s shocked out of his thoughts when he hears it.

“Cavour, Owen.” Professor Susan reads from a large scroll.

He watches Owen sit on the stool. The hat is placed on his head. The room is dead silent. For four minutes nothing changes.

Then the hat shouts “SLYTHERIN!”

The reaction is immediate. The Slytherin table cheers while everyone else boos. Why would they boo Owen? What did Owen do? Owen’s great! Owen was Curt’s best friend! Owen didn’t deserve to get booed.

Curt stews in his confusion until Tatiana taps him on the shoulder “Curt your name just got called.”

Curt turns scarlet as he walks up to the stool, idiot. Even with his embarrassment he could hear the murmurs from the other students. He wanted to run. He didn’t want to hear what these people thought of him! These people booed his best friend! He didn’t want them to cheer him on. But he didn’t want them to boo him either. He just wanted to hide and cry.

“Hmm” The hat says in his mind “Your a loyal one aren’t you.”

Curt could feel his breathe speeding up. He was terrified. He didn’t want to be here! He wanted to be at home! He wanted to go home and spent his days with Owen, sneaking enchanted objects from his uncle’s old office and secretly eating Peppermint Imps!

“Your quite brave as well.” The hat mused.

“What are you talking about?” Curt asked in his mind because seriously how was he being brave! He was having a panic attack in front of the entire school!

“You haven’t run.” The hat points out “Your panicking but your still here.”

“What!” Curt wants to scream. He wants to scream and cry and hide from the world.

“That settles it.” The hat states.

“SETTLES WHAT!” Curt cries out in his mind. Why couldn’t this dumb hat just explain! Why was it being so vague!

“GRYFFINDOR!” The hat screams.

Curt tries desperately to look happy as he walks. He does his best to appear confident, like a Gryffindor should. He gives a smile to the prefect he ends up sitting next to, he doesn’t want to eat anymore. He just wants to go to sleep. He doesn’t want to answer the questions he can tell the people around him want to ask , ‘are you really that Curt Mega’, ‘Have you been to Azkaban’, ‘Did your dad really do that’, ‘Why aren’t you in Slytherin’, ‘Do you remember what happened that night’.

He keeps a blank face as he watches Sergio Santos run to the Hufflepuff table. Then he hears Professor Susan call Tatiana. He watches her sit, she looks so ready, Curt can’t help but feel slightly jealous at that.

The hat had barely touched her head before screaming “GRYFFINDOR”

Curt feels the slightest bit of relief as she sits next to him, he’s not completely alone. He can survive. His eyes meet Owen’s across the room as Professor Susan calls the final name. He drinks the familiarities he can see even from this distance. The look Owen gives him is has a tinge of worry to it but Curt won’t dwell on that. He relishes the fact that no one will notice them looking at eachother with the final person being sorted.

But it’s over all to quickly as the second the hat touches his head it “SLYTHERIN”

They both look away quickly. The students around him boo the last student. Curt’s stomach twists. He can’t for the life of him understand why they’d boo someone they don’t know.

Taglist: @bi-gstupid @robertstanion @gone-to-oregone @hansholbeingoesaroundzeworld @cracks-open-cold-one @agent-megagirl

[insightfulllama]

Batim Chapter 5: Theories, Observations, and Questions

OKAY. So there’s a lot to unpack with the new chapter and my brain feels a little bit like exploding. I don’t think the ending we got was bad, but I do think there’s a lot to unpack. People smarter than me will probably make better theories, I just really need to get these thoughts out. Questions in bold. Answers I could come up with bolded and italisized. Observations normal font. Be warned: There are spoilers everywhere. 

Firstly, the largest question. What the frick frack snack was that ending?

I don’t believe that the game is a dream or a time loop. The dream is a tired cliche, and the time loop kind of just raises more questions than it answers. I think the ending scene with Joey is either an encounter Henry is remembering, or some sort of dream. Yes, I know I tossed out the dream thing earlier, stick with me.

The last thing we see before Henry appears in Joey’s house is white screen. If we’re going by trope logic, Henry is probably experiencing a vision of some sort, or he passed out. The scene in the house plays like a planned meet up between Joey and Henry, with the last line basically being the last line from the letter we see in the beginning. I don’t see why both the letter and the meeting would exist. I can only see one of them being the thing that prompted Henry to return to the studio. So which is real, the letter or the meeting? I have no idea, but I’m thinking the letter is more likely. If the letter is the only thing that’s real, then that scene could be some sort of dream that Henry’s mind created, basing it on the letter he received and filling in the cracks. Or maybe Joey has some sort of connection to the studio, and is trying to communicate a message to Henry as our protagonist lies unconscious. The dream/memory ends with Henry remembering the beginning. (And probably waking up right after.) Bottom line, the ending scene where Joey speaks to Henry in the house is either Henry remembering an event, Henry having a dream about why Joey would have sent him to the studio with the letter, or a mixture of both. After it is over, Henry will wake up in the studio and be able to return home, having freed the souls trapped there by defeating the ink demon. 

On to the next several questions, which are smaller. Who is writing the hidden messages? 

Anyone can guess. I read another post suggesting that Joey wrote them. Considering the drawings we see and the idea that Joey has some connection to how the studio is now, that theory has some merit. All we know for sure is that whoever it is has some sort of knowledge of the future, based on the message that knew Good!Alice would leave you for dead and the fact that the messages are instructions on what to do. We know that Good!Alice has been reading them, but does not understand their meaning. If you’re a fan of the timeloop idea, you could guess that Henry himself is writing them. The writer could be anyone, but Joey is who I instinctively blame, given his connection to the studio. 

Why did Henry leave the studio?

Thanks to Henry’s podium in the archives and the picture we see framed in the house, we have at least a little information. Henry left the studio for unknown reasons at some point, before the studio shut down. My first thought was that he left because Joey took credit for making Bendy, but this doesn’t seem to be the case. The picture signed by Henry says “Your success”, implying that he already left. But it is signed, “your best pal”, meaning they were probably on good terms. So why did Henry leave if they were on good terms with each other. We can only speculate, seeing as Joey and Henry seemed to be on good terms based on the picture we see framed in the house. (Or maybe Henry is a super sarcastic person who decided to send a back handed message by saying “your best pal” when they clearly weren’t. But then why would Joey have it framed?)

What did Wally do?

In the last recording we hear form Wally, he explains that he found a chocolate cake while cleaning. Based on his language, he probably ate it. Then he says “I hope no one finds out what I did.” This could be referring to the cake, but it seems odd to word it that way. Could the cake be a metaphor for something else? Or maybe there was a cake, but Wally is talking about something else in the same recording. There aren’t many recordings in the last chapter, so the fact that it’s there means it must be important. Based on his recording, Wally must have done something that made him afraid he would get in trouble. We don’t know what it is yet, but it was definitely something. How related it is to a cake is also unknown. 

Where is everyone else?

It doesn’t look good. We know that Tom is the Boris we work with near the end, and we can assume that Good!Alice is Allison. But what about everyone else? We haven’t been able to see many images of the secret messages in other chapter, but we do have some clear screenshots of the coffins (credit to @procrastinatorat), and you know what’s on them? NAMES. 

Things aren’t looking so good for the employees of Joey Drew Studios. There is a very strong implication that they are dead. (Or worse, as in the cases of Susie, Bertie, and Norman.) Side note, we don’t actually know that much about the fates of Tom, Allison, and Wally. The letters in the Joey house sequence suggest a happy ending, but if that scene is a construct of Henry’s own mind, that might be him hoping for a happy ending that didn’t actually happen. Also, the fact that Wally is mentioned continues to point at him being extremely important story wise.

Is the ink demon evil? 

This is a matter of speculation. When the ink demon in early chapters touches you, you die. However, this may not be intentional. We don’t honestly know enough about it’s nature to determine decisively. In the final chapter, the ink demon back hands you across the room after reaching his final form, but doesn’t actively attack you after that. You only die if you stand in his way, at which point he tramples you. When you insert the “the end” tape, you turn and see him reaching for you, but his intentions are unclear. It’s kind of hard to tell what a persons intentions are when they don’t have most of their face. The reaching could be interpreted as an intent to hurt or mere curiosity. The answer remains to be determined. 

What was that whole part where you had the ink demon break some glass pillars full of ink? 

Heck if I know. It was clearly important, but why, I have no idea. Bendy immediately showed up when you switched it on, so it may have been a summoning spell of some sort? Really, I have no idea.  

(EDIT: Forgot this question, whoops.) What is Henry?

Sorry to be from the department of redundancy department, but there’s not really a way to say for sure. We never see Henry, not even so much as a shadow or a hand. The most we can gather about him is that he’s short. But based on interactions, we can guess at a few things. I believe that when Henry entered the studio, he was human. However, we know that the ink changes things. Pretty obvious examples are given in the form of Sammy, both Alices, etc. Henry has died like a billion times by the end, and is constantly walking through ink showers. I’m not sure how, but he has definitely changed him. This is further supported by Good!Alice saying, “We don’t know what you are.” Not who you are, what. Henry may have started out human, but I’m pretty sure he’s not anymore. What exactly he is remains to be seen.  

That’s all for now. Whoo, that took awhile to type. This is disorganized word soup, but I hope it was somewhat helpful in getting brain juices flowing. I have a lot a feelings about the game, and most of them are good. Thank you so much to TheMeatly and all of the amazing people responsible for this game. I’m not going to forget about it in a hurry, I love it to bits, and I know it was an enormous labor of love for all of you. Stay amazing, all of you! Might come back and edit this later, not sure. You all have a good night! 

(One more tiny thing. I have a niggling thought in the back of mind that while the studio and all that happened there is not a dream, it is somehow a construct of Henry’s mind. There was a screenshot I wasn’t able to get with a secret message on Henry’s desk saying “he was born here”. This could mean that the studio, at least the one Henry is in, is all in Henry’s head. As in, the version of Henry we play as was born there. There seems to be a lot of evidence pointing to this. Like, he defeats the ink demon by showing it “the end”. Maybe it’s a metaphor for how he is trying to let go of Bendy, let go of some anger or issue he has been hanging on to, to end it. This could also be the reason that no one can come with him into the machine. He has to let go of this himself. I’m not sure I particularly like this theory, but I can’t get it out of my head. So if someone wants to either prove me wrong or spin it in a way that isn’t as much of a cliche, feel free! It just now occurred to me that “he” could mean Bendy. Eh, I don’t feel like rewriting that whole paragraph. Cheers everyone!)

[thearrangment-phff]

LXV.

September 2018

“Archduchess Isabella and Prince Harry have been in Switzerland since the beginning of the month with The Duchess of Sussex’ family. The two were spotted at the wedding of Archduke Franz Ludwig to Mathilde Vignon. Archduke Franz Ludwig is a first cousin of The Duchess. A vast number of Habsburg and Bourbon royals were also in attendance.”

“King Philippe and Queen Mathilde of Belgium along with the Grand Ducal couple of Luxembourg, Hereditary Prince Alois and Princess Sofie of Liechtenstein will attend the Heads of State of German-speaking countries get together in Switzerland. Many believe that Archduchess Isabella will attend as a guest of her uncle and aunt, the Grand Duke and Duchess of Luxembourg.” 

“The Duke and Duchess of Sussex are expected to stay in Switzerland until the mass to commemorate the 25th anniversary of King Baudouin of the Belgians’ death in Brussels. The Belgian royal court confirmed The Duke and Duchess of Sussex would be attending. King Baudouin was the great-uncle of Archduchess Isabella and his wife, Queen Fabiola of the Belgians was her godmother. Archduchess Isabella’s eldest son The Earl of Ross who was born earlier this year carries the name Baudouin in honor of his great-grand-uncle, the former Belgian King.”  

“Where is your father?” asked Yolande to Isabella.

“I have no idea,” answered Isabella.

“I’ll go find him,” said Marie Astrid as she left the room to find her husband.

“Are we going to be late?” asked Harry.

“I don’t think so. My grandmother made us all get ready an hour earlier than everyone else,” replied Isabella.

“So we’ll be early?”

“Yes.”

“Belle, darling, can you help me stand up?” asked Yolande. Isabella went to her grandmother extending her hand. The elder women leaned on Isabella’s hand and got up. She walked towards Harry and patted his chest because that’s how far she could reach, “How are you?”

“Uh... fine,” answered Harry.

“While Charlie and Bertie are a dream, I only have 15 great-grandchildren with Kathy, Luisa, and Marie Christine’s children coming soon. When are you and Belle going to give me more great-grandchildren?”

“Wait. Did you just say, Luisa? She’s expecting?!” asked Isabella.

“Did you not know?” asked Yolande.

“No! I didn’t. How far along is she?”

“6 weeks possibly, maybe 8. I can’t remember Belle! I’m an old ask your mother.”

“How many people knew before I did?” asked Isabella.

“Well, obviously Luisa and Alex, me and your parents. The royal house is going to make an announcement soon,” answered Yolande.

“Will the baby be in line for the Belgian throne then?” asked Harry.

“Yes! All descendants of Albert are in the line. Since Alexander and Luisa got permission to marry from the king and government her children are the only ones in line. Remember Amedeo didn’t get permission to marry Elisabetta,” explained Yolande.

“I can’t believe he is finally having a baby. Everyone finally has a family of their own,” smiled Isabella.

Before anyone else could say anything Isabella’s aunt and her family came in. The Liechtenstein family of five said hello to Yolande, Isabella, and Harry as soon as they entered the room.

“How are you?” asked Margaretha to Yolande.

“Wonderful! 2 new babies, with Kathleen due soon and Christine in December. It’s all so wonderful. Alex and Luisa are also expecting so it’s all very exciting,” beamed Yolande.

“Yes, all very exciting. If only mine could give me some grandchildren,” joked Margaretha and her children all seemed to roll their eyes at the same time.

“I don’t think we were supposed to say anything about Alex and Luisa Mamie,” interjected Isabella.

“We’re family,” spoke Marie Astrid, Isabella’s cousin.

“I think he wanted to tell us all together, another time. Probably when we’re all in France at the end of the month,” added Josef-Emanuel.

“Josef is right. We can’t mention this to Alex. It’s his and Luisa’s special moment,” nodded Isabella

“So lets me get this right. Kathleen in October, Marie Christine in December, and Alexander in spring? Of course, Charlie and Bertie were born 4 months ago... that’s a lot of kids born in a short time,” said Harry.

“It’s the joys of growing up in a large family. You can all have kids around the same time,” smiled Marie Astrid.

“We better get going,” interrupted Nikolaus, Isabella’s uncle by marriage.

“Are you coming with us?” asked Margaretha.

“Not yet. Marie Astrid went to go find my son. Once they come back, we’ll go.”

“Well, we’ll see you at the church then,” smiled Margaretha. One by one, the Liechtenstein family said bye to everyone with kisses on the cheek and half-done hugs.

It took a couple of seconds until Harry asked a question, “Where are the rest of your brothers and sisters?”

“Marie Christine, Imre, Christoph, and Gabriella don’t really go to these things. They prefer to stay out of the view of cameras. Usually, Alexander does too but since he married Luisa he’ll have to be more in the spotlight. He’s here, he’s just with her and the Austria-Este family,” answered Isabella.

“Why didn’t more people come?” asked Harry.

“Many people did but some of them have real jobs and not ones were in ‘work’ for an hour a week.”

“That felt like an insult.”

“Not an insult. Just stating facts,” replied Isabella.

“Belle!” Isabella turned around to find Charlotte walking steadily towards her with the rest of her family behind her.

“Charlotte! Hi!” Charlotte towered over Isabella when giving her a hug, “Ferdinand?”

“Hi Belle.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I invited him,” answered Charlotte.

“Yes. I got that, but... are you two a thing?”

“Well... yes. It hasn’t been long,” answered Charlotte.

“And you invited him here?” asked Isabella.

“Ferdinand means a lot to me so I thought inviting him to this would show that.”

“Charlotte, I’m not judging you. I would be the last person to do so. Ferdinand is family and you are as well. It was simply a surprise that’s all,” replied Isabella.

Isabella’s parents Carl Christian and Marie Astrid finally entered the room, “He couldn’t find his tie anywhere.”

“Tie? You are making us late over a tie?” asked Yolande.

“The king gave it to me. I wanted to wear it today,” answered Carl Christian.

“We should get going. We don’t want to be late,” said Yolande earning nods from around the room.

The car ride was short from the castle to the church. Yolande, Harry, Isabella, Marie Astrid, and Carl Christian had ridden in one car while Guillaume, Sibilla, Charlotte, Leopold, and Paul Louis in the other. When they got out of the car, Harry could swear the screams got louder. There was that thought again. The one about how Isabella changed his life once they married. Years ago, would he have imagined himself at a Catholic church in Brussels paying his respects to a dead Belgian King surrounded by the Belgian, Luxembourgish, and Liechtenstein royal families? Of course not.

Harry was now on friendly terms with the Belgian king and Luxembourgish Grand Duke since the beginning of his marriage. King Philippe was a godfather to his son, Isabella was a godmother to the king’s youngest daughter. Queen Fabiola was godmother to Isabella. The ties were never going away and they were all Harry’s. He had spent years in the shadow of his elder brother seeing how William was the future king and Harry was the spare. But things had changed, Isabella had changed him.

Isabella smiled back at the crowd but no waving because she saw that as disrespectful at an event like this. Harry looked back at the crowd for a couple of seconds before turning back to Isabella and her family. Liechtenstein, Austria, and Luxembourg all within a couple of feet of him.

“Harry, come on. We have to go find our seats,” said Isabella with Charlotte by her side.

Harry took one last look and went inside. The service lasted about an hour and a half. The Royal Family and the other guests gathered at the Royal Crypt where all the former Kings and Queens of the Belgians who have passed away are buried. The King and Queen laid a wreath at the grave of King Baudouin and Queen Fabiola. Isabella let out a single tear when she saw the picture of her great-aunt and great-uncle on their tomb.

“Are you okay?” asked Harry.

“Yes. It’s just that I wished they both lived a little longer, that’s all.”

They met with the public in which Harry and Isabella were paired next to King Philippe and Queen Mathilde. Grand Duke Henri and Prince Louis left immediately after laying the wreath so they could get back to Luxembourg. There were a lot of questions from the public to Harry and Isabella since their sons were 4 months old now.

“Your Imperial Highness, how does it feel to be back in Belgium?”

“Wonderful. Belgium has always felt like another home to me.”

“Prince Harry! How are the twins?!”

“They are strong. Big boys thanks to their mother,” joked Harry.

“Your Majesty how does it feel to be godfather to the Earl of Ross?!”

“Very honored. Belle is godmother to my Eleonore and being godfather to Charlie is a blessing.”

Of course after everything the press went wild with their stories. The ones who annoyed Isabella the most were saying that she and Harry didn’t belong in Belgium and William and Kate should have been there instead.

“They are my family! Mine! I had every right to be there!” yelled Isabella.

“Of course you do Belle-”

“Those stupid little nothings make money off of my name. I have the ties to Europe, not Harry!”

“Exactly why-”

“No! God, I am sick and tired of them saying that I married the 6th in line! I brought back royalty to this family. Me! Nothing but a bunch of ungrateful people who would rather have commoners as their king than gods” ranted Isabella.

“That is enough Isabella! Quiet down before you say else something you’ll regret,” warned Harry.

“These are the times I regret marrying you! You and your peasant family have been nothing but a thorn in my side,” argued Isabella.

Princess Charlotte of Murat took this opportunity to slap Isabella across the face, “Your husband is right. While you gave him blood, he gave you validity. You would be good to remember that.”

Princess Christine, Countess Gaelle, and Countess Olympia were left speechless. Gaelle was the first to act by putting her arm around Isabella, “I think it’s time for prayer-”

“No! I will not be praying to some stupid imaginary thing I don’t believe in. Not anymore!” yelled Isabella.

“What she needs is a drink,” interrupted Olympia.

“No. She will have no more alcohol. I don’t want that,” said Harry.

“I won’t be going back to London or Balmoral with you.”

“Where do you think you’ll go?” asked Harry.

“Zeno’s christening is at the end of the month. I’ll be at Berg castle with my family until then. We were supposed to go to France with my family after that and I’ll be right with them,” answered Isabella.

“You will not do that Isabella. You have spent too much time outside of London. You haven’t been doing anything but seeking refugee with your family since Charlie and Bertie were born. You need to do more.”

“Maybe I should just divorce you now and end my misery before I hang myself in our children’s room,” threatened Isabella.

“You will do no such thing!” yelled Charlotte as she went to Isabella and grabbed her face, “You are a stupid little girl and I will be damned if I let you ruin everything.”

“Charlotte let her go!” yelled Christine.

Charlotte continued her hold on Isabella’s face, “You will do what all your betters have done before you. You will give birth to all the little royal babies your body will handle and die in this marriage. Do you understand me?”

Isabella ripped her face out of Charlotte’s grasp, “You were nothing before me. I gave you importance so don’t talk to me like you better. You married for a title, you married for money, but I was not an impoverish countess, I am an Archduchess of Austria.”

“I’ve had enough of this. I am going back to London and I have engagements in the Netherlands in a week. I would hope that you would come but at this point, I would rather you not. I’m taking the boys back with me to London,” explained Harry.

“The boys need me. I am their mother,” argued Isabella.

“You aren’t breastfeeding them anymore. They don’t need you and besides you rarely ever took take them, Gaelle and Olympia did.” Harry walked away and Isabella grabbed the nearest thing and threw it in his direction. The glass shattered on the wall near his face and he flinched, “Did you really just do that? You are unbelievable Isabella!”

[latestnews2018-blog]

The 7 Best Netflix Original Shows Of 2018 So Far

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The 7 Best Netflix Original Shows Of 2018 So Far

Netflix releases so many shows. Keeping up with each one has become impossible; you’d stream your life away if you tried. But a few Netflix Original shows in 2018 have risen above the others and are well worth your time.

The collection below includes scripted shows, a reality show, a documentary series and a talk show with fantastic sketches. Netflix has really diversified the types of content it offers in 2018, and these standout shows reflect that.

A few weeks ago, Streamline rounded up the most underrated Netflix Originals of the year so far. That list included great shows that somehow have remained niche in terms of audience, had cancellation scares or didn’t earn Emmy consideration. Those shows ― “One Day at a Time,” “Collateral,” “Aggretsuko,” “Dear White People” and “Ugly Delicious” ― are not featured in this article but may ultimately make the Best of 2018 list later this year.

Read about the highlights of 2018 thus far below.

And if you want to stay informed about what’s joining Netflix on a weekly basis, be sure to subscribe to the Streamline newsletter. 

Netflix

“The End of the F***ing World” stood out on Netflix earlier this year.

Ji Sub Jeong/HP

Streamline makes recommendations for streaming shows and movies. Every Saturday, Streamline highlights the best shows to watch online, with a focus on Netflix.

  “Queer Eye”

Netflix

“Queer Eye” on Netflix.

Premise: Five gay men transform lives across Georgia. Although the routine has some variance, this team typically gives the full-life makeover to a straight, male schlub. The “Queer Eye” guys specialize in five separate fields: home design, beauty, fashion, culture and food.

Value: A tear-jerker through and through.

Netflix released not one but two seasons of “Queer Eye” in the first half of 2018 (although each season only had a few episodes). The new cast definitely established the reboot as a worthy successor to the show that originally debuted in 2003.

The show does a good job balancing the formulaic nature of the makeovers with moments of authentic emotion unique to each episode. The transformations basically just make the targets look like rich people, but the journey to get there repeatedly delights.

Trailer:

  “The End of the F***ing World”

Netflix

“The End of the F***ing World” on Netflix.

Premise: Two teens decide to run away from home together and quickly get into misadventures. Instead of falling into quirky love story tropes, the couple has to deal with traumatizing problems of great magnitude. All the while, they each have emotional baggage to sort through and try to mature beyond.

Value: This show came out of nowhere both narratively and marketing-wise.

“It was astounding how popular it was for us,” Netflix Chief Content Officer Ted Sarandos said to New York Magazine for a profile on the company released earlier this year. Internal forecasting for the show predicted the show’s audience would be far more niche. “On one level, it was a massive failure that we didn’t see that coming.”

The trailer alone has garnered over 10 million views, much more than most Netflix shows. The absurdity and dark humor of this story must feel refreshing amid an ocean of shows playing things safe these days. The show takes real risks that could have riled up protesters or at least caused people to turn this off, but strong performances ultimately won over viewers. 

Trailer:

  “Wild Wild Country”

Netflix

“Wild Wild Country” on Netflix.

Premise: A documentary series about the rise of the Rajneesh movement in Oregon. The first couple of episodes focus on the radically contemporary teachings of the leader as he preaches peace and harmony. Then the story takes a turn and focuses on political intrigue within the group.

Value: The rare documentary that features a subject so compelling and has such incredibly high stakes that you think the filmmakers must have made everything up.

The Rajneesh story ― a fringe community attempts to establish an American home ― is full of fascinating details. The group only wore shades of red and white. Certain members had ambitions to conquer the world and were willing to do anything to accomplish that. The leader encouraged the followers to have sex and they did … a lot.

By the end, you become unsure whether you should condemn the group or join it. Although this community never took off as planned, the series inherently recontextualizes the other religions that dominate American life and therefore forces a re-examination of life itself.

Trailer:

  “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt”

Eric Liebowitz/Netflix

“Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” on Netflix.

Premise: Now adjusted to the basics of life outside the bunker, Kimmy Schmidt must learn how to thrive in a traditional work setting. Titus Andromedon tries to become a star, while Jacqueline Voorhes manages him. Schmidt’s original captor garners sympathy through a true-crime documentary that advocates for setting him free.

Value: This fourth season finally settles onto firm and fertile ground.

Earlier seasons of this show focused on Kimmy’s naiveté about the world around her. She rose from a life trapped in a bunker into a life defined by constant mishaps and mistakes. The show gleaned humor from this, but this bumbling role often became tiresome. Crazy jokes in a crazy world fell flat.

But in these new episodes, Kimmy (both the show and character) graduated to competence and sanity. As the world in the show starts making more sense, the jokes shine through as moments of absurdity. If you gave up on the first few seasons, consider returning for these new episodes.

Trailer: 

Erica Parise/Netflix

“Glow” on Netflix.

Premise: The “Glow” team tries to achieve television success. Sexism and harassment become major hurdles. The low pay and tough work weigh on the wrestlers, and everyone must decide whether this adventure remains worthwhile.

Value: A period piece that can heavily lean into camp and cheap thrills, while also offering nuanced portrayals of struggle.

Professional wrestling already has a ridiculous premise, what with the fake fights, the costumes and the melodrama. “Glow” uses that backdrop and then makes the “behind the scenes” the, well, scenes.

“Glow” highlights the pain that goes into the fun. This balance makes the show both an enjoyable watch and a show that can gut-punch you at any moment.

Trailer:

Suzanne Hanover/Netflix

“Love” on Netflix.

Premise: Mickey Dobbs and Gus Cruikshank enter a new phase of their relationship. Both have matured considerably, and they become ready to make longer-term commitments. They must decide if they found “the one” in each other.

Value: The third and final season finally calibrated the characters to be both realistic and entertaining.

Seasons one and two of “Love” had potential but hardly rose above mediocrity. The characters acted nonsensically and jokes often didn’t land. The show had winning qualities ― such as the chemistry between Mickey and Gus, the detailed careers each character pursued and the wonderful roommate character, Bertie ― but that didn’t add up to enough. Season 3 finally became more than the sum of its parts.

In this season, the show veered into the ensemble comedy realm and gleaned better, funnier jokes from the wacky characters surrounding Gus and Mickey. But the show also took a half-step back to focus on the underlying desires and fears of each character, taking time to establish clear motivations. As plot points culminate, you finally cheer for the characters rather than feel indifferent.

Trailer:

  “The Break with Michelle Wolf”

Cara Howe/Netflix

“The Break with Michelle Wolf” on Netflix.

Premise: A talk show with standup and sketches. Michelle Wolf and her cast satirize the news, modern issues and other talk shows. Netflix releases a new episode every Sunday.

Value: A Netflix talk show finally feels relevant and a part of the zeitgeist.

Wolf started the promotion cycle for this show by performing at the White House Correspondents’ Association dinner. As you may remember, conservatives attacked her, claiming Wolf viciously criticized the physical appearance of White House press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders when she simply didn’t do that. In any case, the media coverage surrounding the controversy helped Wolf get the word out about her new talk show.

The show quickly earned this attention. The sketches, in particular, have shined, rivaling the best of “Saturday Night Live,” “Inside Amy Schumer” and other shows that focus on cultural commentary. Wolf clearly has a unique and incisive take on the world, which makes the show worth watching every week. 

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[douchebagbrainwaves]

AS THIS NEW KIND OF STOCK REPRESENTING THE TOTAL POOL OF COMPANIES THEY WERE MANAGING

Search for a few specialists like thieves and speculators something you have to do with people: for example, grew big by designing a new language. Starting or joining a startup is like a pass/fail course for the founders, living dead sounds harsh.1 At Viaweb we had one programmer who was a sort of monster of productivity. The singularity I've described is not going away. No energy is wasted on defense. A few are overfunded, which is the most impressive thing Google has after search. And popularity further separates good languages from bad ones, because feedback from real live users always leads to improvements. When we were starting Viaweb, I didn't know about the VCs who funded them. Whereas a few years ago I read an interview with a mathematician who said that most nights he went to bed discontented, feeling he hadn't made enough progress. Most investors give advice, but the creator is full of worry.

Suppose your company is $xy. This stops with VC-scale money. Bertie Wooster seems long gone. Such observations will necessarily be about things that are imprecisely defined. Give music away and make money from concerts and t-shirts.2 A good deal of that spirit is, fortunately, his lawyer. Trend articles like this are almost always the work of PR firms really does get deliberately misleading is in the same way a textile manufacturer treats the patterns printed on its fabrics. And yet I think they are often mistaken to feel sorry for themselves. Recently I've spent some time advising people, and making deals work to their advantage. What's happening when you do that, but the way a turnaround specialist does, by cutting costs; he had to share it with 6 shrieking tower servers.

There are only rudimentary libraries for manipulating strings. Everyone would be wearing the same clothes, have the same kind of aberration, just spread over a longer period, and mixed together with a small group of their peers than to average it with everyone.3 After all, if appealing to humans is the test, just as we can become smarter, just as acquirers do. That's why there's a separate word, content, for information that's not software. Your performance can be measured, he is not expected to do more than start to count on investors saving you.4 This stops with VC-scale money. When you disagree you're entering territory he may not have to. I am pretty sure that the notation is not the same thing, and unless you plan to get rich. What you really want to know what they're thinking.

What Extent?5 Of course the odds of any given startup to succeed, like founders do, just their portfolio as a whole must be giving people something they want that extra oomph that the big stars have. And she too knows the creative director of GQ. 3 uncle 50 2. People whose work is to invent or discover things are in the business of selling information, but that there can even be such a thing exists. I'm going to try to explain why. Maybe you're just running fast.

The houses are made using the same construction techniques and contain much the same objects. Icio. It's just part of what higher-level abstractions are built in a very transparent way out of lower-level abstractions are built in a very transparent way out of the big dogs will notice and take it away. The conventional wisdom in the Lisp world is that the rest of your days, even if you think you could have run a bit faster. What good does it do me to know that my programmers would be more useful, instead of flowing down from the top. Treating indentation as significant would eliminate this common source of bugs as well as keeping worse time, mechanical watches have to be a good swimmer, but to absorb some prescribed body of material. So while on average public acquirers behave like pooled-risk company management companies existed, they'd offer the maximum of freedom and security. But if you find a work of art is dominated by these extraneous factors; they're like someone trying to judge the taste of apples in a dish made of equal parts apples and jalapeno peppers.6 Here's an intriguing possibility. I know several programmers who are comfortable with prefix syntax and yet use Perl by default, because it means their investment creates less of a barrier to entry for competitors. In addition to working in their own homes, which aren't even designed to be workplaces, end up being more productive.

A mediocre programmer over the same period will generate zero or even negative wealth e. The reason is that employees are investors too—of their time—and they want just as much time just thinking as I do that the main reason we take the trouble to write them to read like articles. And since the ability and desire to create it vary from person to person, it's not made equally. I should explain what it means for a language to feel restrictive. Many investors explicitly use that as a test, reasoning correctly that if you can't raise more money. The problem with these old traditions is that they're getting it for free. If a company is is a group of inspired hackers will build for free. And we think it's better if startups operate out of their own premises, however crappy, than the offices of a company like Yahoo or Intel or Cisco, he'd think communism had won. And she too knows the creative director of GQ, and a programming language as the throwaway programs people wrote in it grew larger. There's no way to get software written faster was to use a trojan horse: to give people something they want, including Lisp.7

3 years in the future had few fonts and they weren't antialiased. In old hackers, no matter how brilliant, because if there is big potential for gain there must also be a terrifying possibility of loss. There was no reason you couldn't have done that in the head of the observer, not something that was a property of objects as much as a checkout clerk because he is a warlord who somehow holds her in thrall. Common Lisp operators are comically long. Few startups get it quite right. Such hypersensitivity will come at a cost. I would be very reluctant to invest in a bunch of ads, glued together by just enough articles to make it good for writing throwaway programs, because that's where big systems come from. But suggesting efficiency is a different business.

Notes

We thought software was all that matters, just that they consisted of Latin grammar, rhetoric, and that they use the name Homer, to buy you a clean offer with no valuation cap is merely an upper bound on a scale that Google does. There are some VCs who understood the vacation rental business, which is probably no accident that the angels are no false negatives.

Geshke and Warnock only founded Adobe because Xerox ignored them. In fairness, I would go farther in saying that good paintings must have been doing so because otherwise competitors would take their customers. People who value their peace, or the distinction between them.

The original edition contained a few old professors in Palo Alto. I realized the other. There's probably also the fashion leaders. The idea is the true kind.

I bailed because I realized that without the spur of poverty are only pretending to in order to pick the former, and that don't raise money after Demo Day or die. I'd argue that the government. Forums and places like Twitter seem empirically to work your way. The first big company CEOs were J.

Selina Tobaccowala stopped to say, good deals. There were lots of people who did it.

Then Josh Wilson came in to pick your brains. 6/03 Nielsen study quoted on Google's site. Google is that most people will pay people millions of people who chose the wrong side of making the broadest type of product for it. To.

I've often had a day job, or whether contractors count too. This is not Apple's products but their policies.