#bonus points to anyone who knows the movies these poses reference!

[grxceblqckthxrn]

TDA characters as types of tiktokers

y’all KNOW i’m bored when i’m doing this shit lmao 

i’ll get around to doing the other TSC characters eventually TDA was just the first to come to mind also if you’re not actively on tiktok some of what i say might not make sense ahaha

also i named some tiktokers who yall can use for reference for some of them and from what i’ve seen they’re all fairly unproblematic so you should check them out!!

EMMA CARSTAIRS

okay so she’s DEFINITELY super popular and she uses her platform for good

she’s really funny and a lot of her audios go viral posts videos of her dancing saying that she cant dance but she’s actually really good at it

6M followers and growing fast 

 hypes up her boyfriend’s account ALL the time

calls out misogynistic/racist tiktokers through duets and KEEPS THEIR TAG IN THE CAPTION  

 she is not afraid of starting drama lmao

occasionally hops on POV and transition trends but its usually satire 

emma can’t act for shit lmao 

super active on tiktok and has a spam account

people are always asking her to drop the skin care routine but she doesn’t have one?? 

*pushes Zara down* “and no one’s gonna help her?? WOW some world we live in”

JULIAN BLACKTHORN

there’s no way he doesnt  have an art account lmao

a lot of his paintings go viral but 90% of his comments are 14 year old girls thirsting over him

yall know that pottery guy on tiktok?? the cute one?? (i searched up his account just for this post he’s @/daxnewman769) that’s the best way to describe him

literally all the famous tiktokers commission him

probably has like 4M followers lmao

will occasionally make about how respecting women doesn’t make you a “simp”

doesn’t get into tiktok drama tho

posts candid videos of emma and all his jealous 14 year old fans get so pressed but he shuts down anyone who says anything bad about her

sometimes does painting or drawing tutorials and he’s really good at teaching stuff lmao

CRISTINA ROSALES

omg okay so like yall know those really pretty girls on tiktok who are literal models and are always dropping tips on how to frame your face for pictures and best clothes and poses and whatever  ( @/ameliezilber is the first person that came to mind as an example)

thats her

alot of her content is just for the aesthetic

BLING EFFECT

GRWM’s all the time

10 step skin care routine 

GOOD VIBES

has a pretty decent following?? like at least 2 million

has a spam but it’s exactly the same as her main lol

also calls out problematic tiktokers but not by name

her entire account is full of body positivity and does a bunch of stuff on loving yourself

sometimes does POVs and all the comments are like “@ netflix hire her rn”

sometimes posts crack videos with emma and cute vids with mark and kieran

MARK BLACKTHORN

does a lot of reaction videos and duets

a lot of his videos go viral but he doesn’t have a huge following like maybe 800k

 everyone still knows him

gets at least twenty “are you wearing only one contact” comment about his eyes every post

he’s really funny without even realizing it 

sometimes goes inactive for weeks at a time and just forgets that tiktok exists lmao

shows off kieran and cristina ALL THE MF TIME AND EVERYONE IS SO JEALOUS LIKE HOW ARE ALL OF THEM HOT

KIERAN 

doesnt have a tiktok lmao sorry

but shows up so much on mark’s and cristina’s that a lot of people know who he is

DIANA WRAYBURN

unironically does POVs but is actually good at them??

lots of videos talking about the struggles of minorities like LGBTQ+ and POC and women

posts a lot of those vidoes that are like “what to do if you ever get kidnapped” “red flags in relationships” “most powerful parts of the body” etc

probably has like 500k followers 

at the end of the day she doesn’t really use tiktok that much tho ahaha

LIVVY BLACKTHORN:

does a little bit of everything??

posts dance videos sometimes 

omg her transitions are SO good

everyone is in love with her and she has to remind them that she’s a minor (i’m just a kid plays aggressively in the background)

posts videos that are just vibes?? like her skating at night, dancing in traffic with dru/her friends, walking through the city at night etc

lots of lip syncing videos to whatever sounds are popular and all her comments are like “i wish i looked like this” “guess im not eating today” and she gets so upset :((

she wants everyone to know that they’re perfect the way they are!!

also posts POVs sometimes and she’s not that bad at them ahaha 

probably has like 1 million followers 

doesn’t even need a spam just posts everything on her main 

shouts out her sibilings accounts all the time

overall just great energy

TY BLACKTHORN

never posts his face on his main but he does on his spam

yall know those accounts that post fun facts or psychology facts?? his is like that except he talks to explain them and everyone finds his voice SO calming 

he posts a lot of content of animals and everyone is in AWE with how good he is with them

his username is probably theanimalwhisperer or something djkfskjd

every single time he posts Kit on his account all the comments are like “OOH ICU” and “SHIP” and “ASK HIM OUT ALREADY”

he gives 0 shits about popularity on tiktok he’s just posting for fun because he likes teaching people about his interests

so he has like maybe 500k followers

lots of philosophical questions that has everyone questioning their existence

ugh i love him

KIT HERONDALE

be honest this is what y’all were waiting for 

yall know those unproblematic ppl that everyone refers to as the “king(s) of tiktok”???

yeah thats him

SO FUNNY

LIKE HIS CONTENT IS GENUINELY HILARIOUS

lots of sarcasm and satire

think @/adamkindacool  ?? (one of my favourite tiktokers lmao)

does reaction videos for those “pov: im the annoying hot cheeto girl sitting next to you in math class” videos

dark humor (not like rude humor but actual dark humor)

like “i put the baby in the oven and the pizza in the bed” type of jokes back when those were a thing

has like 4M followers but almost every single one of his posts go viral so he’s gaining fast

lots of pranks

starts a bunch of trends

any video he posts of Mina goes viral

sometimes he posts some really weird stuff that has everyone laughing so hard irl (@/benoftheweek)

he NEVER thirst traps but still gets a lot of those weird sexual fairy comments on his posts (iykyk)

TO BE CLEAR I MEAN THE FAIRY EMOJI ONES NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM BEING FAE 

reacts to the comments with a video of him just staring at the screen with the “oh to see without my eyes” or “im just sixteen” audio going on in the background which only encourages them to make more weird comments

anyways everyone loves him

any of his povs are pure jokes meant to make fun of pov’ers

posts maybe one serious tiktok every 5 months that talks about being respectful and using your platform for good

“i miss old tiktok”

posts a lot of random videos of Ty where, again, all the comments are shipping them except even more so on his account because everyone can see his heart eyes for Ty

collabs with Dru a lot and does a bunch of duets of her videos

everyone loves him bye

DRU BLACKTHORN

SO many memes

she deletes any hate in her comments bc she honestly doesnt care to respond to them and doesn’t need that kind of negativity in her life

but one time she got a “the f in women stands for funny” comment and she WENT OFF

does really dark povs sometimes that are really interesting

CLOWN MAKEUP + SCARY CLOWN TIKTOKS ( think @/avani ‘s clown make up posts

REALLY good at makeup and sometimes gets julian to do scary makeup on her for tiktoks and povs (like those ones with stitches over the mouth or skin peeling off)

huge ally!! posts a lot about minorities struggles and white privilege, and acknowledges hers

does movie reviews and stuff sometimes

“types of” videos

pulls a lot of pranks on her sibilings with livvy and sometimes with Kit

lots of body positivity + self love

calls out back-handed compliments

also has a lot of content like Livvy’s of just vibing in LA

julian and emma and mark go off at anyone who sexualize her in the comments

probably has like 650k followers

posts a couple of times a week

BONUS: 

JAIME ROSALES

lots of skateboarding videos idk he just gives me that vibe

doesn’t post that often but is super popular

like maybe 1.5M followers

really passionate about systematic racism

HATES all those privileged white boys using the “this is america” audio to pretend they’re oppressed ( this is a may 2020 thing so it probably wont make sense to anyone who sees this after lmao)

POSTS A LOT OF THIRST TRAPS LMAO 

also posts lots of videos that’s just him yelling about stuff but they’re really entertaining to watch ( like that guy sebastian @/sauceyogranny)

everyone thinks he’s super hot he always shows up in those “hottest boys on tiktok” videos except sometimes he’s just the token POC boy and it makes him mad :( 

DIEGO ROSALES

HIS ACCOUNT IS SO PRACTICAL LMAO

lots of tips 

“what to do if you’re trapped in the desert” “what to do if you’re kidnapped and stuck in the trunk”

doesnt reply to comments EVER unless it’s to clarify a point he made in the video or answer a question

has like 200k

okay thats it lmao im done bye this took me like an hour to make

i’ll get to all the other characters from the other series’ eventually 

also if yall are wondering abt the lack of f*ckbois in this post they’re coming dw

TMI CHARACTERS AS TYPES OF TIKTOKERS

TID CHARACTERS AS TYPES OF TIKTOKERS 

TLH CHARACTERS AS TYPES OF TIKTOKERS

[maid-of-the-golden-deer]

Tell me about why you love kurt wagner.(I love him either💙💙💙, I just like to read other people's reasons bc I feel like I can't articulate a text properly haha)

sorry if you've had to wait awhile on this, just woke up haha. and i can DEFINITELY provide this, but it may get a smidge rambly lol.

let's start with the most superficial reason; he's visually interesting. he's a striking blue, he's almost always in a unique pose which makes him stand out from others in groupshots, and he has his unique eyes, hands, feet, and tail. you're never mistaking him for anyone else, and i love that. can't forget the adorable pointy teeth either lol.

along with just how he looks, his skill set and appearance means a GOOD artist has to get creative with his action scenes and expressions. he has highly mobile, close combat fights which are interesting to look at. and when he's not fighting, because his face is often obscured in shadow + he lacks pupils, he gets exaggerated, fun expressions. he just lights up whatever page he's on tbh.

okay, now to move onto less shallow reasons lol, which are harder to articulate because there are so many small things that come together to make him as great as he is. i think, at his best, he brings a nice level headed balance to a team. like he gets emotional and irrational like anybody, but as seen in his early interactions with Cyclops and Captain Britain, he's generally the one giving out advice and knocking some sense into the heads of a team's more melodramatic members lol. he's even explicitly called the backbone of the tram in excalibur.

this screenshot also brings up another things i love about him, even if it makes me sad- one of the things that "humanizes" him is his tendency to self doubt. he's kind, understanding, forgiving... but whenever he makes a mistake, or feels hurt, he tends to get inside his own head and beat himself up. i obviously want him to be happy but i do think he needs this aspect as a way to keep him from being a little one note.

on that note... i love his self confidence. and no, this is not as contradictory as it sounds. like yeah he has doubts and doesn't always believe in himself, but it has very little to do with appearance. he likes how he looks, revels in the abilities he has, both that he has earned and that come from his mutant powers.

and in X-Men forever, a sort of "what-if the Claremont era X-men kept going" comic, he ends up switching appearances with Rogue, and misses how he used to look.

(I know the plot reasons for it but I hate human looking Kurt, give me my fuzzy blue boy.)

to go along with his confidence, i obviously adore his swashbuckling nature and love for all things dramatic and fun. he likes to triple wield swords which is just downright delightful, has movie posters up in his room, makes movie references... he's just got so much joy and lust for life!! his two best solos are when he gets to go on dashing interdimensional adventures and i hope that gets capitalized on again sometime soon (pic isn't from a solo it's from excalibur lol)

another flipside point, unsurprisingly, like many characters of his type, he uses humor to hide his (and others! he likes to make others feel better with his antics) pain and his fear. he KNOWS he's perceived as confident and balanced and patient, so he'll use that a means to distract from what he's really feeling. it's very :( but another thing necessary to make him as well rounded as he is. kindness and joy aren't endless wells that can be pulled from constantly, there have to be limits.

and speaking of, time to get to the part everyone knows and why he's so beloved, in universe and out; his kindness and friendliness. no matter what you do to him, good writer or bad writer, bleak scenario or silly, he's just kind and understanding down to his bones. you don't become one of wolverine's first friends, and then remain his best friend for the rest of both of your respective lives and even well beyond your deaths unless you're something special. you aren't killed as a plot device to emotionally devastate the x-men unless you're one that they all love. you don't get called the soul of the x-men unless you are.

he has every reason to hate the world, but he refuses to, he makes the much harder choice to love it. he leaves eternal paradise to protect the world and his friends who live in it. beloved, amazing, wonderful-

so yeah, these are the big reasons why i love him. he's a man of logical contradictions, good even when goodness in short supply, and just... man just a delight.

a few bonus things i like: he's a hit with the ladies in universe, how his religion (ignoring that elephant in the room we all ignore) is used as a grounding, humanizing element, and he was originally the team's medic.

to sign off, i will share my fave panel of him

[duscarasheddinnswriting]

Claw Game Team bio

Names: Xeno, Plopper, Taterman, Rexy,  Pingyuwin

Role: Complete set of prizes from the Toy Claw; toys in the Williams house neutral to the battle royale

Age: Manufactured during or after 2005 (I haven’t decided when Action Figure Battle Royale takes place)

Height: Less than a foot each

Species: Living toy (all of them; Xeno and Pingyuwin are squeaky toys of a little green man and a penguin, respectively, Plopper is a piggy bank, Taterman is, well, a Taterman toy, and Rexy is a plastic T. Rex)

Personality: Due to all being won from the same Toy Claw, which was at a Rolly’s that the Williams family frequents, all five of them feel a special kinship towards each other. They did not form this while all in the crane, as they were each won during different visits, and none of them were in the claw machine at the same time. They have quite different personalities from the ones on the big screen.

Abilities: All five of them can become inanimate or animate at will, and they choose the former out of instinct when a human knows they’re there.

Xeno is a squeaky toy, so he can be squeezed without feeling pain. In fact, he likes it.

Plopper is a piggy bank, so he is hollow on the inside and can store coins, though getting them out is hard on purpose. Due to the nature of his toy functions, his head can unscrew, though both his head and body are still alive and can reattach easily.

Taterman can move his plastic potato body by rolling it, and he can choose to either move an individual part of him or coordinate them for normal movement. Each Toy Claw Taterman was manufactured as a potato body and matching accessories, so the single soul that is each Taterman can control each one, the potato body, and even the accessories that aren’t attached to him independently and always knows the location of every part. In the Toy Claw, each Taterman has all of his parts stored inside his Potatush storage compartment. This is so that winning them has less risk of losing parts in the process. The eyes, ears, nose, and mouth can see, hear, smell, and taste, respectively, and they function even if taken off. Taterman’s arms aren’t molded in a pose.

Rexy has a strong bite, though due to natural laws, he physically cannot harm a human with it. His arms, though small, are very powerful to compensate, and unlike a real T. Rex, they have three fingers.

Pingyuwin is another squeaky toy and can be squeezed without feeling pain, and it too feels good to him. Unlike what he is based on, his squeaker works.

Toy Claw Info: A Toy Claw is a claw machine in the shape of a rocket. They are popular enough that every arcade chain in the US has at least one in at least one location. They are not as rigged as most claw machines, but the trouble lies in the weight of several of the prizes. They debuted in arcades in 2005, though they were made as a tie-in to a 1995 movie, the world’s first feature-length film rendered in 100% CGI and the debut of Mixar Animation Studios, which later became a division of Dipney, who helped with Mixar’s films before then. They were made for the tenth anniversary of that movie. Here is the breakdown of what a fully stocked Space Crane has for its prizes:

Little green men (what Xeno is): 50%

Piggy bank (what Plopper is): 12.5%

Taterman (movie design): 12.5%

Green T. Rex toy (What Rexy is): 12.5%

Penguin squeaky toy (What Pingyuwin is): 12.5%

The Williams family has two Tatermen. The one they won from the Toy Claw is single, while the other one, bought in a Bullseye, is married to a Taterwoman also bought in that same Bullseye. That Taterwoman is not designed like the one from the movie.

Out of universe, they are a reference to “The Claw!” game included on Disc 2 of the Toy Story 10th Anniversary Edition 2005 DVD. I have that specific DVD, and I admit that I spent way more time on that game as a kid than I probably should have. Disc 2 is the bonus disc, and in that claw game, you can get an Alien, Hamm, Mr. Potato Head, Rex, and Wheezy. Buzz and Woody are not there because the former is a high-end toy (at least in universe) and the latter is an extremely rare collectible from the 1950s (as revealed in Toy Story 2), neither of which are likely to be found in a claw machine because of those reasons.

Xeno is supposed to be one of the Aliens from Pizza Planet. The ones in the Toy Claw, including him, are based on the Toy Story Signature Collection Aliens. However, the ones in the Toy Claw all have squeakers.

Plopper is supposed to be Hamm, and I based him off of a Disney Store toy that was quite accurate, but was discontinued because it was fragile, being made of porcelain. The toy model in my story has the same mold, but is made out of hard plastic that is far more durable. I got the name Plopper from The Simpsons Movie, where Homer calls the pig he takes home with him “Harry Plopper” at one point after having referred to him as “Spider Pig” earlier on because he helped the pig walk on the ceiling.

The specific Taterman that these Toy Claws keep in stock, including the one the Williams family owns, all use the Toy Story design of Mr. Potato Head. I based him off of a custom one that is quite authentic to the movie, having eyes and shoes that go in separate holes, detailed ear molds, and eyebrows molded into each eye. They look quite good, but as the separate parts could be dangerous to kids under 4 years old, there is a warning molded on the Potatush saying not to give it to anyone that young.

Rexy is supposed to be Rex, mostly resembling the Toy Story Collection real-world toy of him. However, mine has no electronic components nor a voice box, so he does not take batteries. This also makes him less impressive, but cheaper to mass produce. The head, arms, and tail can be moved freely but stay in place when not touched.

Pingyuwin is supposed to be Wheezy. I based mine off of a custom one made by kop378454505. I know there is an official one, but the custom one has a louder squeaker, so I went with that. Their squeakers also all work by default, which I know is less authentic to the one in the movie, but I don’t think kids would understand that, so they would be disappointed when their squeaky penguins didn’t work. I named him after the way Dr. Blowhole from the Dreamworks TV series The Penguins of Madagascar says the word “penguin.”

I decided that the kids of the Williams family named their toys differently from the ones in the movie because they were too young at the time to understand their real names. After years of being referred to by the wrong names, they all accepted it.

Read the only story to have these toys in it, Action Figure Battle Royale, with these links:

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30466935/chapters/75127953

DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/duscara/gallery/74952731/action-figure-battle-royale

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/264799683-action-figure-battle-royale

FictionPress: https://www.fictionpress.com/s/3355621/1/Action-Figure-Battle-Royale

[incorrecteragonquotes]

Eragon Movie Recap Part 3: Eragon McProtagonist and the Sorcerer’s Stone

It’s time for the third installment of the Eragon Movie Recap!

We pick up where Part 2 left off. Roran’s gone. Eragon’s moping. Brom’s comfortable getting in trouble with soldiers. Garrow has life advice. The cool rock is entirely normal and definitely isn’t a weird egg.

After lamenting his cousin’s departure outside in the sunset, Eragon is continuing to mope indoors. Without warning, the cool rock on the floor before him begins to shake violently. It starts to crack. Eragon looks at it like it’s super gross but also a little intriguing.

The cool rock explodes, revealing tiny dragon, which immediately starts making cheerful little noises. Eragon smiles, and starts theorizing about the variety of non-rocks the creature before him could be. To his credit, he does identify the cool rock as an egg, though the impact is somewhat lessened by the fact that he proclaims “you’re an egg!” after the hatching, to a creature that is clearly no longer an egg. Said creature makes an admirable attempt at miming the word “dragon”, to no avail. Eragon decides that whatever the thing in front of him is, he simply must put his hand on its head.

There’s a big flash of light, and a few key characters awaken due to a disturbance in The Force. Brom clearly wasn’t expecting this. Galbatorix looks unhappy, but unsurprised. He appears to have been sleeping in the throne we saw him in earlier. Although, if we close our eyes and pretend those horns and neck-scale-looking things don’t belong to the arm of his oversized chair, we can believe that he may have been taking a nap with his dragon, Shruikan. That would have been a neat little detail. Arya, on the other hand, is looking a little smug.

Arya is lying on a table in some sort of dungeon. She doesn’t appear to be secured to it in any capacity, though I’ll give this a free pass on account of there being a powerful magical shade nearby who knows a thing or two about keeping people captive. Durza, too, has noticed that something’s up, and begins questioning his prisoner. Arya, as part of a perplexing new strategy, decides that this is a fine time to gloat about how the egg has already hatched.

Durza is displeased by this news. He retaliates by doing some weird shade magic that somehow extracts the details of the egg’s whereabouts from Arya’s mind. I’m still a little miffed that she even has those, but it’s also strange that this is how Durza gets his information. Maybe it’s just that Durza is putting extra effort into being mean, leading to a unique experience, but this doesn’t look anything like the telepathy that we see clearly later in the film.

Back in Carvahall, Eragon wakes up from a brief nap that may or may not have lasted the entire night? Time of day is really hard to follow in this movie. Eragon hears some echoes of Arya’s words to Durza, which he promptly ignores in favour of looking at the tiny dragon snuggling with him. He takes a look at his hand and sees a really weird rash. Instead of reacting with concern for his own well-being, he starts scolding his new friend for causing it. How he reached that (admittedly accurate) conclusion so quickly is beyond me. Suddenly, their talk is interrupted by Garrow calling for his nephew, catching their attention.

Before leaving, Eragon decides that he should feed his dragon. He fills a bag with milk, intending for it to slowly leak so that the milk inside can be consumed one drop at a time. The dragon has other plans, however, and decides instead to rip the bag open, spilling everything in the process. All seems lost until a rat scurrying around some corner begins to make a ruckus. The dragon jumps over to it and swallows it whole, making for a somewhat unsettling visual. Instead of being alarmed, Eragon decides that this is the perfect time to quip happily about vermin infestations.

Back at Galbatorix’s weird mountain rectangle, (no, I’m not making this up,) Durza reports back about the hatching of the cool rock. He tries to discount the threat by emphasizing that farm boys are not dangerous to kings, but Galby’s not having any of it. Apparently, it doesn’t matter how useless the new Rider is, only whether or not the rebels see him long enough to gain a little hope. This would, of course, lead to aggressive action, and dealing with that is just too much work. Galby (and his really weird fingernails, goodness gracious) orders Durza to stop Eragon and company from reaching the Varden by any means necessary.

Eragon, meanwhile, is out on the farm in some field or other. His weird rash is looking less angry. He seems to think it’s pretty cool. His new dragon buddy comes to visit him, and he voices some extremely unsubtle complaints, making it clear that he has a lot of abandonment issues in this movie.

Over in some fort or other, Durza is standing precariously above some weird, smokey pit full of bats. He summons the Ra’zac by saying “Ra’zac” a bunch of times and doing some enthusiastic posing. The Ra’zac obligingly explode out of the dirt in what appears to be a nearby forest, and are instructed by Durza to find and kill Eragon.

In the evening, Eragon walks into town to what looks to be the local outdoor cafeteria. A bunch of adults are already eating there, listening to Horst complain about how he has yet to hear from his recently conscripted sons. The cafeteria is apparently being monitored by soldiers so they can arrest anyone who voices too much dissent. Brom joins in on the complaining, as he reminisces about the good old days.

Brom launches into a little monologue about how the world used to be so much better, back in the day. Less cruelty, less suffering, more freedom, and more dragons. Eragon, on a mission to learn anything he can about his former cool rock, pays special attention. Of course, Brom only really gets to slander the king for about two more sentences before soldiers come over to bully him into submission. Eragon takes issue with this.

Eragon asks the soldiers not to hurt Brom. Interestingly, this seems to work, so he presses further to let Brom finish his conspiracy theory. In a baffling turn of events, this happens without question, and Brom says his last few sentences. This does incur further threats from the soldiers, which is an unusual strategy for them to be taking when they’ve already permitted Brom to finish speaking. He and Eragon make meaningful eye contact, assuming that Brom isn’t facing away from the cafeteria and everyone in it. Because Brom and the camera both moved, it took me at least a good five viewings to conclude that the eye contact was probably real. Regardless, it’s nice to see that little twinkle in Brom’s eyes.

Later, Eragon is running through a field with his little dragon, fangirling over Brom’s story. After a collective effort, the dragon manages to take flight, amazing both it and Eragon. It’s a triumphant moment until the dragon flies off into the distance, and Eragon realizes that it’s over. The adventure has passed him by. It’s just like Garrow said, some people are built for adventure, and he just watched his own fly away. I think this makes for a neat little moment, and a nice example of thematic consistency, so the filmmakers have my respect for including it.

Eragon stews in his disappointment for a bit. He breaks the silence by proclaiming that “she’s gone”, despite the fact that he knows nothing about his dragon’s gender. This detail bothers me because of how much emphasis was placed on it in the book. It’s far from important, but it stands out quite a bit.

Suddenly, moping hour is cut short - Eragon’s weird scab has begun to glow! In the sky, we see the dragon fly through some clouds, growing rapidly and explosively. In the space of five seconds, (yes, I timed it) the dragon has reached adulthood! It lands before Eragon and takes a moment to appreciate its own transformation.

Instead of voicing his questions aloud, like he has done up to this point, Eragon thinks them loudly to himself. The dragon joins the telepathic exchange, and joins Brom’s story’s fanclub. Eragon clarifies aloud that this is, in fact, telepathy. With that out of the way, the dragon introduces herself as Saphira, and proclaims that Eragon is her Rider. After recovering from his surprise at this revelation, Eragon begins scheming for the future.

That’s it for Part 3! Thanks for your patience with this one, and thank you all for reading! The feedback on the recaps so far has been wonderful. This part covered about 9 minutes of screentime. We saw a dragon hatch! We saw that same dragon come of age! They grow up so fast. I am sad to see our weird egg go, and I will miss having so many opportunities to use the phrase “cool rock” in the forthcoming recaps. Oh, the sacrifices we must make.

Remember to tune in next week when we visit such questions as “will Arya be reprimanded for her carelessness in the field?”, “does Brom possess any desire for self-preservation?”, and “is this the only time we will reference Garrow’s discussion of theme?”. See you then!

Bonus:

[toasttz]

How to Make Games: Gacha Games

Hey, do you wanna make more money than several member nations of the EU?! I know I sure did, so when I was 12 my sister and I set up a lemonade stand that made several times the value of Greece's GDP when you consider that negatives cancel each other out. Hey, do you want to make MEANINGFUL amounts of money and have zero moral compunctions that might inhibit your success even though the road to the top is steep and lined with unethical business practices? Well, just insert $29.99 (397.48 Canadian dollars) and I'll teach you how to make some fuckin' gacha games! Gacha games, games inspired by a terrifying Japanese tradition known as "Seppuku" where you shoot pinballs in order to undress a girl carrying a bowl of ramen - before I go any further I feel that my understanding of Japanese culture may be a little out of date, so apologies where necessary - and something else happens, blah, blah, blah, and you get some toys or some shit. When it was discovered that Android and iOS can be programmed in such a simple and fast way that typewriters and some house plants with high RAM amounts can run the code, the market soon became flooded, but not saturated, with gacha games. Why hasn't the market hit saturation point despite the fact I can't scroll further than a gnat's dick in winter's length on the Google Play Store without hitting one? Because, as the wise Chinese philanderer, Aristotle, posited, "The difference in hardcore pr0n and gacha is a string bikini and $39.99 USD, but the amount of shame is equal in both," So, the games are retardedly easy to code and the only decision you'll spend one afternoon making is if you want to spend 2 hours making it a fully-automated RPG, 5 hours to make it a complex battler with some meaningful gimmicks, or 15 minutes copying Puzzles & Dragons. These options have totally not been done to death, so feel no worry if you can't be arsed to innovate. Once you have done the easy part, the next part is to locate someone with artistic talent and ask them to draw girls. Lots and lots of girls. Unlike H-games, the theme here can be as broad or narrow or as obtuse as you want. In fact, you can use multiple themes or just do what most of these games do and just steal from history and myth and make them all girls! It literally doesn't matter how deep or nuanced your story or gameplay are if the 2D waifus are cute enough. Lots of girls are necessary - tall girls, short girls, thicc girls, lean girls, brown girls, bunny girls... just don't stop making girls. Ever. You'll be expected to actually update about every two weeks or so, but that's getting ahead of ourselves. Lastly, for each summoning banner, place four characters on them in varied, dynamic poses and outfits in the ratio of 3 girls and 1 guy. "Guys?" I hear you ask incredulously. Yes, I recently read a very scientific study that said girls sometimes use the internet now and, so, to compensate for this possible oversight, each banner needs one shirtless guy, but unlike girls, never vary their body types. Just watch a few Marvel movies for their shirtless stud scenes and copy that - that's all you'll have to do! And sometimes give them different hats, so they know they're different guys. What? Sound design? Pffft. Don't be ridiculous. Everyone's going to be playing this game at their jobs when they can't play their real game libraries, so they're just going to mute them. Those that don't will be the creepy weirdos just listening to their waifu of choice's voice actress anyway. Besides, Wendee Lee is gonna do 85% of the voices anyway. You can just skip this part. The core of any gacha game, as it was foretold in the Japanese romcom, The Art of War & Peace, by Leo Toystore, is their summoning mechanic. You need some kind of in-game currency to exchange in order to summon heroes to make up your party. Sure, you'll give the players some generic filler heroes, but they'll all be bottom-tier and Worst Waifus(TM) with no real potential for growth, but that way no one can call foul on your game design. The real draw will be summoning, so make your orbs or your gems or whatever, just be sure that they're artificially inflated like nations that no longer rely on the gold and silver standards, because just like those nations that no longer rely on the gold and silver standards your imaginary currency is backed by fucking nothing other than your insistence that, yes, 300 platinum gems totally costs $49.99, stop asking so many questions! The second-most pivotal point is that your exchange between currencies and summons is completely irrational. Anything from 5 to 150 is acceptable, just so long as it's never, ever 1:1. That would make it easy for your fans to deduce the true value of your currencies and that's literally the last thing you want. You can set aside special vouchers for people who acquire enough "Good Boy Points" by making the game a habit rather than a game in the requisite "Daily Login Bonus" category. But those are entirely secondary and should still have the same low, low rates of drawing heroes anyone gives a shit about. About once a year you can hand them 5-Star Summon Vouchers, if they have enough Good Boy Points and throw them a bone to keep them in the dopamine loop. So, once the game is on market, just rotate your banners every two weeks, usually in the pattern of "Useless, Fanservicey" Banner twice, then "Mechanically Powerful Characters" Banner once, then repeat. That way players are inclined to waste their currencies on bathing suit beauties or Valentine's Day honeys instead of the St. Patrick's Day themed Hero who has S Ranks in Strength and Defense. This will incentivize players to routinely pay up like the good little whales they're meant to be. Err, I mean... it will encourage players to contribute to your work economy, so your studio can keep the lights on... like the good little whales they're meant to be! There we go, much better. Now just slap on a campaign mode and a crap-ton of side missions - preferably one or more for each hero you make in order to pad out the game length - and then slap a Stamina Bar on top of that! Make sure they can't do more than 10 missions in a day's time at the highest possible levels, so they don't blast through your paper-thin experience and keep ponying up properly. This will also tie back into the "make the game a habit" goal we talked about earlier. Once you have enough starving artists ball-n-chained to their writer desks churning out waifus, that's pretty much it! You have a sustainable game in the same way a drug cartel overlord does! Now make another following the above and enjoy double the money, ad infinitum! Also, one last bit of writing advice: never actually finish the story. Just keep adding new 'twists' and 'complications' no matter how hackneyed they may be! If they're getting bi-weekly banners, they aren't complaining that the story only updates every financial quarter when the investors start asking questions! Bonus points for making your characters aware of the events as they come and go and reference past banners - this will add the illusion of depth to your writing and characters. Congrats! You're contributing to the blight on the Earth's surface known as cell phone games. When the aliens find us and we try to rationalize all the good we've done, yours will be one among many sins that cause us to get vaporized to make way for a cosmic-scale McDonalds. But, hey, you can't take all that shit-ton of money you'll make with you when you go anyway. You're welcome.

[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 4

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 5,361 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Also on ff.net and AO3.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Thanks for your patience, here's part 4~

See me here in the air Not holding on to anywhere But holding on so beware I have secrets I won't share

-t.A.T.u., "Clowns (Can You See Me Now?)"

Then.

“Psst.  Hey look over there, it’s that Brown girl.”

“The one hanging out with the freak in computer class?  You think they’re dating?”

“Ew, gross.”

“You know I heard she got knocked up by some loser in high school.  I bet she has like, no standards.”

“Wow, what a skank. So she’ll sleep with anyone, huh?”

Look who’s talking, Queen Jezebel.

Stephanie tried her best to ignore the snobby gathering of rich sorority girls as they gossiped and giggled loudly behind her back in the gymnasium locker room, mingling and clinging onto the clear alpha’s authority.  Hiding and huddling under a protective umbra, umbrella safety in numbers.  …So much for college being better than high school when it came to cliques and bullying.

As they passed by her change station – all the adulating acolytes swarming around their leader like an amoeba – one appendage broke away from the buzzing cluster just far enough to bump blatantly into her bare shoulder.

“Whoops.  Sorry.”

The drone drawled in an excessively sarcastic tone that didn’t sound sincere at all, to the observant master’s smug approval.

Really, just like high school.

As tempted as she was to make a snide remark on the obvious imbalanced power dynamics, Stephanie managed to swallow her pride and suppress retort.  Biting her tongue until they were out of sight, upon which she stuck it out in an equally mature gesture in their wake.

“So like anyway, I hear this new gym opened up on the outskirts downtown.  It’s kinda out of the way – like, by the boonies almost – but apparently the instructor there is really hot.”

Stephanie couldn’t catch the statement that ensued, as the distance between them had already advanced to the point their fading words were muffled by rows of metal.  There was a shrill burst of shrieking laughter before they exited though, harpy peals mixed with a round of half-appalled gasps, rebounding and resounding raucously off steel.  Odd, she could’ve sworn she heard something about pirates…?

She sighed and shrugged as she got dressed, wiping the workout sweat from her face with a towel and pulling her sweatshirt over her sports bra.  She didn’t much mind being lumped in with the outcast crowd; frankly she was used to being looked down upon by others by now, but the derisive comments still stung her self-esteem – especially when she was already having a bad day, due in part to being so bluntly turned down by the public pariah she was supposedly “associated” with.

Face it, girl, not even the “freak” is interested in you. What were you even thinking, blurting out something stupid like that.  It must’ve come off as totally desperate; someone as smart as him probably doesn’t want to bother spending time with some dumb blonde chick who can’t even find her way around campus anyway.

She had come here to blow off some steam after being grilled on her grades in addition to the above gaffe, but now thanks to those sickening sycophants she was sorely reminded of her own poor social – and subsequently intellectual – standing.  Missing culture and class (in all senses) often made her an easy scapegoat, much as she endeavored to rise above those who stooped to such low level of insult in order to make themselves appear somehow more “sophisticated”.  She couldn’t help being a bit ruffled though, bile riling spitefully in her stomach as self-doubt simultaneously rolled about her conscience.

I mean come on, who are you even kidding?  All you’re really good at is PE and pretending to be from a decent background instead of another broken dysfunctional family.  Doesn’t matter what his type is, he’s way out of your league.

While she normally tried to cover up lack of conviction with clever wit, this was just the newest in a long series of successive failures (though it certainly didn’t top the ultimate blunder she’d made once).  Chalk another one up to the slew of screw-ups and setbacks that plagued throughout her past, piling up to the point she may as well be called the Leaning Tower of “Please Kick Me”.   Despite exertions to deny at least one side of her upbringing, the dominoes were stacked against her since birth.  Any psychoanalyst worth his salt (assuming she could even afford one) would point to a mess of complications stemming from childhood, starting with “daddy dearest”. Freud would likely have a field day with her “father figure” fixation – in the more negative than positive association. While both parental “role models” had problems with neglect in the past, it was the paternal ones that particularly persisted.  Thanks to her poor excuse for a pop, she’d suffered her share of blows (both emotional and physical) that defeated and deflated a daughter’s dignity, culminating in a personal vendetta against crime and clueless adults who can’t even properly take care of their kids.  (Which in itself was one of the reasons she sadly but firmly determined in the end to give her own offspring up for adoption.)

Objectively, it was no wonder she had terrible luck – if not taste – with men, chasing endlessly after a string of doomed relationships (and consequently consecutive rejections), sought as a self-diagnosed surrogate to replace the male attention and affection she never received growing up.  …So she idly acknowledged the full irony of the situation when, in order to distract from her dejection, she considered the inadvertent advertisement mentioned earlier as a potential solace.

Maybe I’ll go ogle some eyecandy for peace of mind.

She had promised her mom she’d come home for the weekend after all.  She could stop by on her way, scope the – ahem – place out a bit.  From the sound of the discussion, it was located fairly close to the suburbs, and establishing affiliation with an exercise facility near her neighborhood would be pretty convenient during vacations, compared to commuting back and forth like she did in high school.  (Having a certified hunk for a fitness instructor as well would just be a nice bonus, icing on the cake.  Given her strict regimen, surely she deserved to treat herself to some confectionary “consolation” on the side.)

…When she stepped off the bus in the middle of Gotham’s busiest shopping district though, she realized she probably should’ve done more research into its exact whereabouts first.

Dear Diary, remind me to print out directions next time.  Or at least a map.

As she wandered hopelessly through the streets, now without the benefit of a guide or even a destination address to go by, eventually probing enough passersby bore fruit.  By the time she arrived there though (out of breath as if she had already run a marathon), the sun was starting to set.  Craning her neck to gaze up at the building sign towering above her, she snorted slightly at the lofty title.

“Out of the Nest Aerial” – what a weird name.

A bell chimed as she entered, alerting a man who was bent over some boxes in the back of the lobby (which smelled of fresh paint and renovation), apparently busy packing away some materials.  He must’ve been surprised by a customer at this late hour, as she caught a cursory lift of his (lean yet muscular) arm to glance at a wristwatch.  Still, he called pleasantly over his shoulder:

“Be right with you in a moment.”

Eyeing the robust frame of his behind, she assured:

“Ah, take your time.”

donotstareathisbuttdonotstareathisbuttdonotstareathisbutt

Damn, those gals seriously weren’t kidding about the view.  …As the ass-umed target of their talk turned around though, she realized what they must have been chatting about that set off such a funny fit, following screeches with shushes.  Steph felt her own face flush as she admonished herself for inappropriately zoning in from one conspicuous feature to another.

donotstareathiseyedonotstareathiseyedonotstareathiseye

Despite the discernible… “deficiency” in the other’s visual department, the defect didn’t detract from his overall attractiveness, magnetic movie star looks unmarred by partial eclipse. One shining moon’s force of gravity was sufficient enough to draw her into its depths.  …If anything the shadow blocking the opposite sun’s reflection only enhanced his handsome appeal by augmenting an alluring air of mystique and intrigue – a Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious if she ever saw one.  Hell, the rest of his heavenly body’s figure was practically flawless, revealing the results of what must’ve amounted to years of intense physical training.  Aside from deducing self-discipline as part of his personality, he carried himself with the convivial charisma of a cheerful showman presenting some grand performance (which she vaguely recollected from her father’s former game show hosting days). A voguish comportment vaguely cobbled from the kinds of classy male caricatures generally seen strutting on red carpet catwalks, peacocks fanning their feathers for their – in this case – drabber female counterparts (fans who would squeal and fall over themselves with glee if given a chance to even get within vicinity, let alone dare to lay claim of victory).  Suave and stylish – if slightly synthetic.  All preened plumage and perfect poses, placid and practiced.  Like plastic roses, permanently planted for all to adore – parading proud and prominent down a promenade.  Whose upbeat character’s charm was hardly diminished as he grinned gregariously in greeting, the gorgeousness of such a stunning smile more than making up for any handicap.  …Although she noted the guy’s gait seemed somewhat rigid for somebody of his stature, walking with a minor limp towards her.  Her blush deepened as he approached, exuding a masculine musk as his powerful paw extended to shake.

“Welcome.  How can I help you, miss…?”

“Brown.  Stephanie Brown.”  She babbled rapidly, tongue tying again as she tripped over her response. “Nice booty- I mean, nice butt- I mean, nice to meet you.  …You know what, I’m so sorry, I’m just gonna go.”

Fortunately, he seemed to take the semi-suggestive (if perhaps politically incorrect) comment in stride, simply chuckling aloud with unalloyed aplomb.

“Trust me, I’ve heard it all.  Richard Grayson, at your service.”  The dreamboat flourished a forgiving bow, adding with a flirtatious smirk:  “You can call me Dick though, all the ladies do.”

ohmygod please stop

“Um, I was wondering if I could check you out-” She hastily checked herself again.  “Er, check out your equipment?”  God, why did that still sound so embarrassing to say.  “I was thinking of signing up to join if you’ve got memberships available.”

“Sure, although we usually close around this time.  Was just about to lock up soon actually.  I’ll make an exception for such a lovely little lady though.”

Red crept further onto her cheeks.  “Thanks, I’ll just take a quick peek.”

He nodded.  “Feel free to look around, most of our stuff’s upstairs. Would you like me to give you a special tour?”

“N-no, that’s okay.”

She squeaked, subduing an internal squee.

“All right.  Let me know if you need anything.”

She skipped swiftly up the steps, heart skipping beats.  Today was turning out to be a pretty good day after all.

When she reached the upper floor though, she stopped short to see someone was unexpectedly there before her: the very person she had intentionally come to forget about.

What’s he doing here?

He didn’t seem to notice her presence, focused intently on a pair of uneven horizontal bars before him. Muttering something to himself under his breath, clenching his fists and flexing a few times.  After the limbering stretch, he inhaled deeply before charging at his opponent, clearing the first hurdle with ease by using it as a springboard. He appeared to have some trouble latching onto the second, but managed to rectify his grip in time, righting himself as he swung up and over in a circle.  Adjusting his center of weight, he settled into a handstand, still facing away from her.  Gradually, he removed one palm from the pipe, impressively relying on a single limb’s strength to maintain balance.

A memory pricked in the back of her mind.  Gotham High. After dusk.  An empty gymnasium.  She had forgotten her homework at school after practice, so she hopped on her scooter and raced back.  As she neared the gym though, she heard a groaning crash within, followed by an angry curse. Poking her head cautiously through the door crack, she spotted someone lying prostrate on the floormat beneath the parallel beams (which were presumably set up again by said individual after having already been put away prior), alarmingly appearing unconscious.   At first she panicked, and was about to run and call for an ambulance when the comatose corpse stirred, sluggishly staggering to its feet.  Despite dragging them a little, he wobbled over to take previous position at the end of the pad.  Stabilizing himself, he waited a minute for dizziness to dwindle before tumbling and backflipping across the entire expanse, vaulting high into the air to land – almost, but not quite – on the mark.

While she winced in his place, he merely picked himself up and gave it another go, repeating the routine over and over, for what felt like hours.  She stood there and watched with silent marvel, gaping in spellbound, slackjawed awe at each graceful arc and twist, utterly mesmerized by this bizarre boy’s sheer determination to get it all precisely right – nearly bordering on desperate, if not suicidal.  No matter how many times he tried though (nevermind shocking disregard for the quantity of bruises gained in the process), each attempt produced little improvement.  Even if he managed to successfully pull off the whole maneuver, his hands shook so much upon descent that he still slipped off the perch – almost as if some part of his subconscious were involuntarily compelling himself to hold back.  Finally, he kicked the dual poles over in frustration, storming off towards the outlet.  She hurriedly ducked around a corner, but was able to get a good glimpse at his visage before he vanished.

She knew his name straightaway from face alone; everyone did.  She’d seen him around in the halls, heard the whispered rumors, but had never spoken to him before.  Most people strove to avoid interacting with the “world class weirdo” if they could help it, and his raging outburst at the end was admittedly a bit disturbing.  …But the bitter expression of disappointment he wore as he glumly gave up became burned into her brain, ingraining irritation on his behalf.  He evidently possessed extraordinary talent, yet still wasn’t satisfied with himself. (Her own signature moves paled in comparison, and not even the most senior members on the team could come close to the caliber of coordination and dexterity – let alone stamina – required to execute the intricacy of the initial sequence.)  No one else seemed to recognize his raw skills either; or rather, he didn’t allow anyone to witness them for whatever reason.  When he showed up to class the next day sporting so many injuries, everyone speculated how the infamous “delinquent” must have gotten into some kind of brawl outside of school, and steered clear even further.  He didn’t say anything in his defense, but she found herself privately lamenting the misunderstood look of loneliness in his eyes – that in a way felt so achingly familiar from when she’d spend her mornings carefully concealing her “loving” dad’s last night beatings with makeup in the mirror.

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to openly express sympathetic sentiment.  She had her own pressing business to attend to, as shortly after that she discovered she was pregnant.  Her louse of a boyfriend had already long broken up with her, dumped and ditched to fend for herself as soon as the quake of ’09 hit, fleeing like a coward while she stayed to try and help other survivors.  Not only that, he completely skipped town in the aftermath – coincidentally for the entire duration of her gestation period – only coming back when chaos died down and the coast was clear, in all contexts.  After she gave birth, he actually had the gall to try and get back together with her, but she kicked him hard in a certain place and then punched him in the face – twice – when he wouldn’t stay down.  (Okay, so admittedly she was taking out more aggravation at herself; maybe he didn’t thoroughly deserve the brunt of such brutal treatment, but she hadn’t had the best experience with guys who refused to take “no” for an answer either.)

While the calamity exposed some awful realities about human nature, she wasn’t the only one who chose to remain behind to aid relief efforts.  Among the scattered, smattering handful of Samaritan citizens left, she had observed another teen around her age (maybe a little younger, if his size was anything to go by).  Although for an excruciating amount of time, he seemed frozen absolute, suspended animation amidst the burning wreckage.  Glazed pupils in a trance, as if unable to process surroundings – before snapping out of stunned stupor into action.  Festinating, fighting frantically through the frightened crowd, urgently racing to rescue as many as he could from the rubble.  At one point he even recklessly risked his own life to dive under a crumbling, unstable column, reacting on impulse in order to save a small child from the structure as it collapsed.  He almost looked more terrified than the toddler afterwards, whole mass trembling (and not just from the aftershock tremors), but he held the crying kid close and soothingly promised it would be okay, that they’d find his parents, that they were okay.  He was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

She didn’t learn who he was until later, when she and the majority of the refugee student body were relocated to Gotham Heights High nearby, since their own cheap institution was devastated beyond immediate repair.  (Eventually it would be rebuilt and renamed, dedicated in honor of the late Mayor Hamilton Hill, who perished during the upheaval.)  The noble sacrifice that stranger demonstrated on that day seemed a stark contrast to his cold reputation, and she admired wonderingly from afar, confused as to how someone could portray two totally different impressions in such a short span.  Deep down, she was sure the brave hero she saw emerge back then was but a flicker of the real self buried underneath frigid fortress’s exterior, convinced that a closed off heart was far kinder and more courageous than the owner let on.

At any rate, she had enough concerns on her own plate for the time being, dealing with the “reminder” her ex had left her of their time spent together.  While she tried to keep the matter discreet, there was no way she could hide such a (literally) huge secret forever – from her mom or from faculty. When the truth came out, some of her (idiot) friends thought it was cool she was having a baby, envying the attention and constant excused absences.  Others displayed their disdainful opinions on the affair, albeit in a more “indirect” manner.  Maybe they were also jealous, or more likely her teammates were mad at her for having missed so many meetings under the pretense of “not feeling well” – only to announce she was officially taking an extended leave right before the big tournament, forcing them to scramble to redo the group floor routine.  (They were already reluctant to let a transfer “rival” join, even though she had easily wowed their coach during tryouts.)  Either way, she arrived one day to find her temp hallway locker coated in graffiti, resentful remarks ranging from “slacker” to “slut”. There were worse labels as the list went on, effectively exhausting the devil’s dictionary:

Bitch.

Bimbo.

Tramp.

Trollop.

Hussy.

Harlot.

Whore.

Dreg.

Some of the comments were so harsh and hurtful she couldn’t – didn’t want to believe they came from anybody she knew.  Given the setting’s free access and availability, anyone could’ve written (and read) those things.  So rather than instantly alert authority, she resolved to stake out between breaks to see if any vandals returned to the scene of the crime.  …By the end of the day though, no one had come forward to gloat or claim responsibility.  She was about to resign herself to letting the culprit(s) go when he of all people suddenly turned up in the vacant corridor – carrying a spraycan.  Crushed by the thought he could’ve been involved – that he was really no better than his hoodlum image – she nearly called him out then and there to give a piece of her mind… when she noticed he was also holding a rag in his other hand.

He had brought cleaning supplies.

Quickly and quietly, he set to work, applying solvent and scrubbing away all the abusive slurs, leaving the cubby sparkling new.  He promptly departed without a word, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. She didn’t know quite what to make of this random act; lending assistance in a crisis was one thing, but for someone to go out of his way to do her a favor when they weren’t even acquaintances went well above and beyond altruism in its own merit.  (It was possible he was erasing evidence out of remorse, but somehow she doubted that.)

She never did get a chance to ask him about it – or to thank him – as her mother marched straight into the administration office upon hearing of the incident and pulled her out for the remainder of the semester, insisting on homeschooling – at least until the fetus finished its own term.  Steph had never seen her looking so strong as in that moment.  The scathing, scolding speech and matronly outline she sharply cut were striking, if somewhat startling.  Their relationship had always been rather rocky, what with the pill addiction and alcoholism and all-around abandonment, but almost losing one’s daughter in a nigh-apocalyptic event tends to put things in perspective.  Maybe she felt guilty for not fully being there for her up through adolescence, blaming herself for any shortcomings.  She took the catastrophe itself as a sign of self-punishment, almost as if it were own fault rather than Mother Nature’s.

Whatever the motive, she really tried after that to make up for lost contact, God bless her.  She got clean – for good this time – started working double shifts at the hospital to pay for damages to the house, all the while singly supporting Stephanie through the labor and adoption proceedings.  Even went on a diet and lost some weight, though they still made sure to set aside time to eat waffles together every morning. Steph wasn’t sure why the woman specifically chose something that only offered empty carbs as their “healthy” bonding agent (she supposed since it was a warm, go-to comfort food; personally she was partial to mashed potatoes herself), but it became tradition, and it stuck – as did their adherence to each other, nonartificial sweetness strengthened with syrup.

When she returned to school, she was mildly more anxious to face friends than foes; to that end, she wasn’t even sure where on the spectrum “that person” lay.  (Incidentally, she gathered he’d also spent some time “away” in the interim, which didn’t do much to dispel his shameful status.)  At this forgone stage, she was uncertain how to broach topics long past to someone she’d still never even had a conversation with.  Plus he always seemed so… difficult to approach, exuding an overwhelmingly daunting lone wolf aura. Finding courage or commonality to confront him was a bold challenge, and she always awkwardly lost her nerve whenever she came close.

Despite his history of misconduct, he was perceptibly bright – brilliant even – when it came to academics. His high exam scores earned him enrollment in accelerated classes in their senior year (although even then it seemed like he was still withholding some superior source of knowledge, moderating only enough surface energy to scrape by), and the advanced placement ahead of her only broadened the unattainable distance between them, no matter how hard she struggled to catch up…  Which made it all the more astonishing that, in the end, he’d willingly accepted a spot in the same local state college rather than a private university.  One might then cynically accuse her of seizing opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, but it was purely by chance she happened to secure a practical arrangement that put them in rough proximity.  Ostensibly though, the only other times their paths managed to fleetingly cross outside of lecture hall took place behind separate, if adjacent bookshelves – until today’s accidental encounter, that is.

As she retrospectively looked on, it seemed he couldn’t sustain the stance for long, dropping posture to hang upside-down for a moment before dismounting.  Again, some kind of subliminal instinct seemed to kick in before he hit the ground, and he stumbled with a heated swear.  She clapped politely in appreciation though, and he jolted at the noise.  Swerving, he snapped without warning:

“Damnit, will you quit bugging me?!”

Her hands halted, shocked by the sudden shout.  He blinked as he registered the spectator, growing more mortified as he became aware of his error.

“Shit.  Sorry, I- thought you were someone else.”

“It’s okay.  I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He gulped and shuffled uneasily, steadying respiration before attempting to start over.

“So.  It’s you again, huh.”

Hello to you too.

“Hey.  Fancy meeting you here.  We just keep running into each other today, don’t we?”  She ventured what she hoped came off as a friendly jibe to defuse tension, though there was some genuine suspicion behind it.  “You wouldn’t be secretly stalking me, would you?”

He didn’t fall for it. Rather than take the bait, he instead reached casually for a water bottle on the bench beside his bookbag, relatively unfazed by the half-serious allegation.

“That’s my line.”  His tone was almost eerily calm compared to before, as he unscrewed the cap and nonchalantly took a swig.  “I could inquire the same of you, I’ve got a legitimate reason to be here.”

“Oh really.  And what would that be?”

He jerked his head towards the staircase, jabbing a thumb for emphasis.  “The guy downstairs?  He’s my older brother.”

She squinted, distinguishing some physical resemblance now that he brought it up.   “You two are related?”

That… explains a lot actually.

“Not by blood,” he clarified.  “He was also adopted by Mr. Wayne at one point, so technically that makes us step-siblings.”

There was a pronounced privation of fondness in the terse, formal way he delicately articulated their former guardian’s designation, tongue tart and taut as a tightrope.  She hazily recalled reading about the second sensation in the tabloids at the time (alongside an exposé detailing the new ward’s scandalous criminal record).

“Oh right, I saw a, um, documentary on T.V. about that.  …Wait, you mean he’s Grayson as in ‘The Flying Graysons’?  The famous circus act?”

“You didn’t see all the posters in the lobby?”

He pointed over her shoulder at a giant flyer pasted over partition, the enormous wall scroll unambiguously inflating the centerpiece’s ego.

“…Ah.  Guess I must’ve been, er, distracted.”

Irises rolled in exasperation, as if expecting such a reply.  “He tends to have that effect on people.”

Curious concentration transferred from the glossy print back to him as he begrudgingly murmured this. Hard to think the two were connected to each other, if tangentially.  Like day and night, they were.  Tentatively, she tried to gear the dialogue in a different direction, nudging towards an encouraging compliment.

“So that’s how you picked up all the acrobatic stuff?”

“Uh- yeah.  Something like that.”  He winced and rubbed the back of his neck, still seeming uncomfortable with the subject.

“You’re really good at it. That was pretty amazing, what you did just now.  You should consider joining the gymnastics team, the males’ division could probably use some support.  I hear it’s in danger of being cut to provide more funding for contact sports.”  She scoffed inwardly.  Like those jocks need any more budget.

He simply shrugged. “I’m not that great.  My brother’s better.”  …It was pretty plain to see he had a heavily severe inferiority complex. Remarkably though, sourness seemed to subside as a reminiscent, reverent mist remotely shrouded his vision, looking longingly at the faded ruby and gold costume.  “You know he’s the only person in the world who can perform a quadruple somersault?”  There was a touch of envious excitement in his tenor as he placed a hand on the worn placard, smoothing over wrinkles in the parchment.  “…Or he used to be anyway, before the- accident.”

“…Is that also how he lost his eye?”

The clouded veil instantaneously evaporated.

“Sorry.  Was just wondering.”

A voice emanated from the stairwell:

“It’s all right.  I don’t mind you asking.”

The two turned to see the proprietor poised at the top of stairs, leaning over the railing as he took in the picture with an inscrutable countenance.

“It happened during the quake.   Was trying to help some victims trapped in a bus underneath the highway.  Got hit by falling debris in an aftershock.  …Pretty dumb, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that. That was really heroic of you.”

Meanwhile, her other company said nothing, but shot a peculiar look at his brother, who merely beamed benignly back.  There was a blank, stony sort of quality to both their semblances though. Impenetrable.  Stephanie had the inexplicable feeling she was intruding on some mute, confidential exchange between the two, and decided now would probably be a good time to excuse herself.

“…Anyway, would you look at the time.  Guess I should get going.  It’s getting late, and my mom’s expecting me.”

“Of course.  Thank you for stopping by, we hope to see you back again.”

“I’m sure you will.  …Oh, one more question before I go: How do I get to Widowstone Creek from here?”

A brief description of bearings later, Stephanie strolled out the door, now confidently armed with coordinates.  The manager waved with a sunny smile as she left – though it might’ve been her imagination, but the salutation seemed a tad subdued as opposed to earlier reception.

“Bye now!  Take care.”

He subtly elbowed his younger sibling, who sullenly put up a lethargic hand as well.

“Bye.”

Really, could those two be any more different.

The sky had grown grim, but she was still able to navigate her way around well enough as she approached an area she was accustomed to.  She had been right about the place being close to her house, it shouldn’t take her long to get there.  …Although now that she knew where she was headed, she opted at the last minute to cut through a back alley to get to her block without further delay – which turned out to be a colossal, costly mistake.

“Well well, what have we here?”

Stephanie stiffened as she heard the thrum of throaty sniggers and motorbikes, headlights peering through the gloom as they illuminated a score of whitewashed faces, arrayed in garish garb; bright polka dot and patchwork patterns that were even more blinding (like looking through a psychedelic kaleidoscope, or experiencing a bad trip on some of her mom’s pills).  She would’ve been amused by their gaudy guises, if not for the gleaming assortment of weapons they wielded: knives, chains, clubs, hammers, pipes, bats, and of all things – a spiked rubber chicken, which was the only thing that didn’t seem ridiculously out of place in this scenario.  (Scratch that, they still looked ridiculous.)  Brazenly brandishing rusted iron and brass to match their brash appearance, lurid and leering.  She’d seen reports of their mischievous miscreant behavior on the news, but had never directly run into them before.  Outlying residential regions weren’t typically their turf.  …But of course today had to be the day they chose to terrorize her territory instead.

Dear Diary, remind me never to try taking a shortcut again. …Assuming I even make it out of this mess alive, that is.

She thought as she backed up slowly, finding herself fenced in by whooping hyenas, sneering and snickering as they encircled their prey.  A gang of hellion hooligans, rebel riffraff risen up out of the ashes and anarchy following the cataclysm – even more enormous fashion disasters taking after their borrowed namesake:

Jokerz.

Clowns are here to let you know Where you let your senses go Clowns all around you It's a cross I need to bear

[annashipper]

Showsie Submission

Hey Anna! Just thought I'd submit on recent events. Although I have not been vocal lately, I have still been paying attention to the land of shamwow. So...Ben goes to a concert in NYC? We get some pics of him solo, and a delightful lack of fuckery to accompany them. We also get some nice, high quality pics of IW filming...accompanied by some Fail articles that focus on his work, sans any fetch attempts from she who shall remain fetchless. I have to say, I find these recent events encouraging...not from any shamwow point of view...but from a good PR point of view. I'm with Ballsy...cookies where they are deserved, really. Granted...I've become so inured to the previous poor efforts of team BC in this respect that the bar of my expectations in this matter has been set quite low as a result...but kudos are given for this week's efforts regardless. I think I'm finally seeing the result of some sensible and grown-up PR strategy here, and I really hope it continues. I also wanted to address JT Anon's comments on the nan factor as pertains to PR strategy. I do think that you find groups like the nans in any fandom...they just happen to be more vehement and vocal in this one. I do believe that pandering to such a group is not a particularly good idea when it comes to a risk/benefit analysis, and that no effective or capable PR would do so, if they could possibly avoid it. But, I don't think that a capable PR is what we have here, given previous form. I think they use the nans for clicks, but without any thought as to the consequences. I've also seen people mentioning the Beatlemania type promo that was used in that Hollywood Reporter article in 2014. In my opinion...that was poor form. I'm sure the nans saw it as validation for their behaviour, but I just saw it as mocking, disrespectful and not good at all. Which brings me to my main point...I've often said that Ben's team have failed to understand his fandom. Let me clarify this point for you now (just in case the intern that is tasked with reading these blogs is paying attention). If I were in charge of Ben's image from the start...I would have aggressively marketed him as the 'thinking women's crumpet' from the start. Because I think my job as PR would have been to determine what demographic my client was most likely to appeal to, and to build a business plan in that direction. I think they had made some good steps in that direction...up until mid 2014...and then the wheels came off that particular train, for whatever reason (which I'm sure we'll never know the truth of), and we ended up with the mish-mash of contradictory messages we have now. Team BC have failed to appreciate the demographic they should have been aiming for. Ben was never going to be the classical Hollywood heartthrob material. He doesn't have the right look for that. Don't get me wrong...I still think he is pretty, in a striking and unusual way, but he's not got the archetypal good looks for such a thing. Instead of the Internet's Boyfriend with a bunch of squealing fans designed to appeal to the barely post-pubescent, they should have been aiming for slightly more mature woman as their target audience for this man. This is the audience I think a man like Ben would appeal to. Someone who isn't about the hype, and is looking for substance over style. And it would have had the added bonus of being directly aimed at where the money is. Because people forget...free thinking and more mature women are more likely to be professionals, established in their careers, with a considerable amount of disposable income to spend on movie tickets and the like. And such women don't require hearing awkward shoehorning and stuttering (and, quite frankly, unconvincing) affirmations about a personal life that should have been kept private, to spend money on their fave. They would have been more impressed by someone showing enough respect for their wife and children to not put it up for sale to the highest bidder in an attempt at generating cheap publicity. This is a vast and untapped market that they have failed to capitalise on, had they recognised it earlier. But...I do feel they have finally cottoned on to this, because we are now seeing a strategy from Team BC that accommodates this view of celebrity. Let's hope they continue their current good form and that they won't disappoint us in the future. Fingers crossed! Hugs to you, Anna

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ben is definitely standing his ground, I’ll give him that.  And yes, I’m quite optimistic about where this seems to be going.  Cookies for PR though?  I’m withholding those until after Wimbledon (and I think everyone reading this blog knows the reasons why)

As far as Ben’s image is concerned, that’s something I’ve found fascinating since before I even became a fan of his.

I still remember reading through Empire and seeing he’d gotten their Sexiest Man Alive title for 2013 which, I have to be honest, baffled me at the time (but in my defence I hadn’t watched a single episode of Sherlock yet).  

I remember reading article upon article about him back then, all of them talking about legions of Cumberbitches, about him being the thinking woman’s crumpet and definitely seeing the potential for him to make it big in the industry.

When I finally watched Sherlock and couldn’t shut up about this magnificent actor everyone around me had to see in action, one of my colleagues even had a mug made for me that read “Proud Cumberbitch” with a screenshot of Sherlock in the sheet at Buckingham Palace, which I thought was hilarious and kept using at the office (because apparently I have no shame).

So yeah, as long as Ben was being adorable on red carpets, verbose and funny in interviews and wasn’t playing the same game everyone in Hollywood seems to be playing, I had no problem with the Cumberbitch title.  It was just a silly thing that I could find humour in.

Fast forward to the fall of 2014: There was certainly a shift in the way he was portrayed in the press during TIG promo, and they seemed to want to hold on to both aspects of his image at that point.  Having him give long winded interviews about Alan Turing and the way he was slighted by the system, while also having him do that cringe worthy photoshoot for Hollywood Reporter.  

To make matters worse, they kept jabbing at his fans with not only Beatlemania references, but also building him up like this bigger than life movie star who couldn’t run fast enough away from his screaming fans, as well as the paparazzi.

That would have been all fine and dandy, had Ben accustomed the world at large to such behaviour.  BUT, although anyone paying attention knew that lots of his fans were overly enthusiastic (a great number of them willing to go to great lengths to breathe the same air as he does for 5 seconds) and ready to throw themselves into battle to defend him against his critics, they also knew that he was a man who’d been in the industry for close to 20 years already and had managed to always guard his private life.

Therefore, when he kept talking about how fiercely private he was while obviously doing staged pap walks ... globally, he started looking disingenuous.  Something that was amplified by the fact that he kept talking about being happy to find love with Sophie Hunter, a woman who 9 out of 10 people think trapped him into marriage with a pregnancy, while he started looking more and more frustrated around her, the more we saw them together.

Let’s get one thing straight:  No one likes a liar.  No one thinks a liar is the thinking woman’s crumpet.  No one thinks a liar is adorable.

In order for Ben to turn his image around and go back to presenting himself the way that he has worked so long and hard to be regarded, I believe he has to stop lying.  Because let’s face it, he may be a gifted actor, but the poor guy can’t lie his way out of a paper bag.  Not about anything that matters at least...

When he stops lying, I’m prepared to bake heaps of cookies for everyone.  His PR, the poor intern who has to keep reading our ramblings to report back to Karon who then reports back to Ben, the people in Ben’s life who’ve stood by him through all of this adversity, the Skeptics, the Nans, even random people in the streets.  The only people not getting cookies will be the trolls who are posing as skeptics, as well as Shitty and her friends.  And let me tell you Ms Showsie, I make a mean cookie  :P