#i wanted to have a companion Bo sketch but here

[emry-stars-oc]

So. Hear me out. I take halfway abandoned ocs and put them in a royalty/kingdom universe context, thoughts?

[notomys-mordax-blog]

Finish Anything Jam - DevLog#2

As I mentioned, at the end of 2024 I am going to be releasing ... something. One of my big challenges is that I have a few different WIPs and enjoy ... rotating between them.

While I was fairly focused in December on a project called "Eyes of the Pines" that focus shifted a bit during January.

Here are the projects I currently have cooking.

Eyes of the Pines: Southern gothic horror-light focused on an amnesiac young man who uncovers the secrets behind his past.

51ur8-90: A queer space opera featuring a mechanic in a backwater space colony who inadvertently ends up playing a bigger role in the conflict unfurling around them.

(no logo yet)

Broken Thread: The world of Azaria has been fractured by the Dread Lord of the Night Eternal. A small band of heroes prepare for their final confrontation with the dark wizard. For them, the conflict is personal. Before he became the Man who Stole the Sun, the wizard had been their trusted companion and treasured friend and for their leader, he was something more. 

This is what I got done this month:

51ur8-90

This is an old project that I'm picking up again. The script is complete, but one of the challenges with the script is that it's not very well formatted and there are a ton of different permutations (most of the LIs scenes can be played at several points in the story, with slight variations depending on when the scene is ready) -- I took the script and began untangling this and mapping it into twine.  So far I've gotten this done for chapter 1.

Decided I'd give creating updated sprites a try. As I mentioned earlier, while I have a beautiful full set of sprites there are two problems that I'm grappling with: one is matching the CG art with the sprite art, and the other is that I've developed a taste for including more animation (blinks, flip flaps, etc) in my VN art. 

Made a new base sprite for femmeMC. Resisted the urge to give them the option of masculine and feminine costume outfits. For now. One of the design choices of this game is that you can pick the gender presentation of all fo the characters, I'll probably stick with one version to start, and then finish.

Made a new base sprite for femme Shay.

Sat down and really considered some design principles. Decided to stop being a coward and actually uncomment out the 18+ scenes. While it might impact how I have to think about some of the more explicit scenes (to allow for a diversity of bits without completely blowing up the art budget) ... I think this is important to one of the design goals of the game. 

Same with the polyam aspect of the game. You can date the rebellion ace pilot. You can date the space pirate. You can be both at the same time. 

In terms of scripting, I am going to follow the approach where I go through one "path" at a time. The ending routes essentially consist of a combination of Bo's primary political affiliation plus which relationships they've developed with the other characters (like any good melodramatic space opera, it's possible to romance Rebellion Ace while choosing to enlist in the Federation). 

For what it's worth, the bad endings occur when Bo chooses not to trust the bonds they've made with people on 51ur8 -- so in the above-mentioned scenario, it's possible to end up with a happy ending to your romance, as long as you trust in Kai. 

Whichever character other than the route character Bo is closest to. I'm going to knock out the route where Bo joins the , while being close to Kai. 

Eyes of the Pines

Art:

Added some more expressions to Elian.

Created a logo, I don't love it, but it's fine as a placeholder 

Create a main menu art.

Thought about how I want to structure my sprites. 

sat down and played with a mirror and faces, really studied the expressions and did some sketches for my characters to play with what their expressions look like

Thought about lines - since this is a year long, I do what I want jam. Get excited about cross hatching.

Built out the file structure for an Jonah.

Redesign Jonah to better reflect his character 

Tweaked Saul's pose so he's facing the camera.

Sketched a headshot. 

Started Vivian's portrait 

Realized I was getting way too ambitious with the numbers of animations/etc. 

Misc:

Start up the dev log

Think about social media presence, decide that's a later problem.

Got a bluesky. Now I need to figure out how to use it. 

Started a game design documentation. 

Vndev confl

Coding:

Began coding a second scene (this one is ... Much more complicated than the first). Coding is definitely going to be a long pole, although I might get faster as I get more comfortable with ATL and have more built ins.

I added a choice menu that will let me jump to a certain scene for debugging. 

Writing

2.1 - 2.9

I'm essentially writing one "leg" of the story at a time, this will let me get the overall flow of the scenes as they come together. 

I'm doing Saul's route first (to his 'special' ending). I'm not sure what I'll do second, but I'm leaning towards Saul's "default" ending, then I'll tackle Jonah's routes (which will complete the "tower" path) 

I'll put this in writing, but I put together a playlist, this helps me focus on on the vibes that I'm aiming for.

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

This is a weird request but romanced (or platonic, I dont mind either) companions react to a deaf/hard of hearing sole? As someone with hearing loss, I always thought it would be tricky to live in the wasteland with it, seeing as you need to be able to depend on hearing your surroundings most if not all the time! (I personally have no sense of direction where sound comes from, mishear people, or flat out hear nothing), so how do you think companions would react, or help a sole that cant hear properly? Sorry if this is weird or hard to write!

Cait:

Hope you have a good sense of humor- because she will tease you. Especially if it's a severe thing.

You obviously can handle yourself out in the wastes- so she doesn't doubt your capabilities, however she still sometimes finds herself beginning to worry once the two of you become close friends.

Will probably get frustrated when talking to another wastelander. Between you not being able to understand them if they mutter and them not being able to understand her accent- shit gets real fast.

Curie:

Considering her medical background, she is interested in what caused your loss of hearing. Were you born like this? Did you suffer head trauma? Any answer you give her will receive a sympathetic "oh".

Just you wait. She'll sketch up some plans and tell Monsieur Sturges about your little problem and soon enough, she'll surprise you with hearing aids.

Danse:

Unfortunately, the loss of hearing was common in the Brotherhood. The only exception usually being scribes or squires. So with that being said, he too suffers from moderate hearing loss.

His isn't as bad..but let's just say that he's been too close to one too many explosions in his day.

However this also means that he understands what youre going through and is better equipped to help out. Which he does- be it using more tactical hand signs during missions or even just kindly reassuring you that "no, you're not a bother" and he doesn't mind repeating himself- even if it is for the fifth time in a row.

Deacon:

Wont outwardly voice it- but he is somewhat concerned. In your line of work, stealth and perception were key elements to survival- so you not being able to even decipher where certain sounds came from was quite worrisome.

However, he knows you. So he knows that you always find a way to overcome even the tough test of obstacles- why would this be any different? It wouldn't.

Gage:

Is the kind of person to tease you and call you an "old fart" and ask if you're "fuckin' deaf or somethin'"

He means well though.

Honestly, he doesn't care much about your disability so long as it doesn't prove itself to be a hindrance in your mission of gaining power.

Although sometimes he wishes he wouldn't have to throw stuff at you to get your attention if your back is turned..it was funny the first few times, now it's just getting old.

Hancock:

Isn’t exactly sure what to think about it. I mean..he understands that it’s a major disadvantage while out in the wastes but..you’ve made it this far, you’ve gotta be pretty dang crafty.

The only thing that would really change is that he is now trying to learn sign langue.

Macready;

Poor hearing? No problemo.

He’s a sniper. Perception, stealth, and all that other good stuff is where he excels. He’ll still give you a hard time every once in a while, but as far as it changing the way he views you? Tough chance.

He thinks that you’re okay, just..let him do the guessing whenever the two of you are in buildings and don’t know where to go. At least he can hear the feral ghouls screeching from down the hall.

Maxson:

Once again. Hearing loss is an unfortunate “work-related hazard” when you’re in the BoS.

So like with any other of his soldiers with a disability, he sent you to Captain Cade to see if there was anything that could be done.

The last thing he wants is for you to die because you couldn’t hear a death law bounding you behind you.

Nick:

Doesn’t treat you any different.

If there is something he can do to help, don’t hesitate to let him know. He’ll help as best as he can.

Old Lonfellow:

Knows Exactly what you are talking about. Being his age comes with a few downsides- hearing loss just so happens one of the most prominent.

He’ll try to make humor out of the situation- leaning down and petting Dogmeat’s head while saying “At least we’v got your ears, buddy.”

Preston:

Feels really bad for you, especially if your hearing loss is really bad.

Sign language quickly becomes a must around the castle. Even if you insist that it isn’t that big of a deal- he doesn’t care.

Piper:

Honestly is so stressed when the two of you go out on missions. She can’t whisper to you or anything!

At least she doesn’t mind repeating herself hundreds of times.

X6-88:

Is already fair warned of your disabilities and couldn’t care less.

He’s here to protect you, no worries.

[earlysunsetsoverambrose]

Kodachrome (5/5)

Sinclairs x f!Reader

Warning: Cursing

It was coming up on six o’clock in Ambrose. You and Lester made it back about half an hour ago and settled in to wait for Bo and Vincent to return. They arrived around fifteen minutes after you.

Bo was now smoking out of a cracked window, insisting it was too hot to stand outside but knowing you didn’t like the smell lingering in the house. He was still in his long-sleeved uniform. You knew better than to tell him to change or roll up his sleeves at least, but you wanted him to be comfortable. There was no way he wasn’t dying from the way he was sweating through it. It was better to let him make that call on his own, however; and to not utter a single word about it in the rare case he actually did decide to change.  

Vincent was sitting up on the couch sketching with Jonesy taking up the other half. He ditched his sweater, wearing an old tank instead. He also had his hair pulled up from his neck in a loose ponytail, but still wore his mask.  

Lester – who had all but tossed his hat and over shirt across the room upon returning home – was helping you in the kitchen, distributing the sweet tea and lemonade. He took Vincent a glass of lemonade before settling himself on the floor with his own glass of sweet tea. You followed close behind with Bo’s sweet tea and a lemonade for yourself.

“It’s not a beer, but it’s still good.” You said as you approached Bo. He stubbed out his cigarette and took the glass from you.

“I suppose it’ll do.” Bo said, feigning a sigh of disappointment. He took a few sips and glanced at the glass and back to you, “Damn, if that isn’t good.”

“Glad you approve.” You said as you took a drink of your lemonade.  

“So, you take any good pictures after I kicked you to the curb?” Bo asked

“In fact, I did. No thanks to you.” You said cheekily, glancing at your camera and photographs that you had set on the pool table “I’m going to fill an album with my cheesy, crappy pictures and you know what I’m going to do after that?”

“I gotta know.” Bo deadpanned

“I’m going to fill another.” You said eagerly “And another and so on, so forth.”

“If that’s what gets you outta bed in the mornin’.” Bo said with a shrug. Before you could fire back, a rumble from outside interrupted you. You and Bo looked outside to see storm clouds suddenly rolling in above your little town, “God damn it.”

“What? It’s just a little rain.” You said with excitement, “Might even cool things down a little.”

“I just repainted the fence in front of the apartments. I’m gonna have to fuckin’ do it all again.” Bo huffed

“Don’t worry about it right now, Bo. I’ll help you redo it, if you want.” You offered, “We’re having fun, no need to get worked up.”

“Whatever.” Bo said glaring out the window, willing the clouds away. With that, the rain started falling, tapping on the roof and walls of the home.

“It’s not so bad. I love the rain!” you said trying to lift his spirits.

“What’s there to love? The humidity? The flooding? The leaks in the roof?” Bo asked sarcastically.

“C’mon, didn’t you ever run around in the rain as a kid? Roll around in mud puddles?” You asked.

“No, ‘cuz I didn’t grow up in a pigpen.” Bo snarked, “And if I tracked mud in the house, my old man woulda killed me. He hated mess.”

You set down your glass and made your way out the door and onto the steps. All three Sinclair brothers looked after you, curious to know what you were getting up to now. You stuck your hand out into the downpour, catching the warm droplets as the nostalgia of the summer rain from your childhood struck your senses. You turned around to find the brothers gathered at the door way looking at you with confusion. The look on their faces was a harsh reminder than none them had the same childhood memories you did; they never got the chance. Well, now was as good a time as ever to change that. You dashed back into the house, the brothers parting as you darted up the stairs. You returned with the portable radio from your room. You stared back at the Bo, Vincent, and Lester.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen, I’m going to put on some music and we’re all going to run around in the rain like we’re little kids again, got it.” You practically ordered, “We’re going to have fun.”

“I’m in!” Lester chimed in ecstatically, “It’s gotta beat sittin’ ‘round sweatin’!”

“No fuckin’ way.” Bo refused flat out, “That really what you call fun growin’ up?”

“Yes, because it is fun.” You argued, “What about you, Vincent?” he looked down at the ground, twiddling his fingers, unconvinced. “Well, I can’t make you do anything, but I’m going outside and I’m going to have a blast.” You said determinately. You pushed past the brothers and stopped at the door, “C’mon, Jonesy!”

Jonesy leapt up from the couch and launched herself outside, ahead of you. You could always count on her and Lester. You fiddled with the dial of your radio, quickly tuning in to a classic rock station, Creedence Clearwater Revival lighting up the airwaves. You turned the radio all the way up and set it to the side on the stairs, still under cover from the rain. You quickly yanked Lester outside, both of you laughing as the rain met your skin. You tapped Lester on the shoulder,

“You’re it!” you declared, darting away with Jonesy, screaming as you put distance between you and Lester. After only a second to process, Lester ran full speed behind you, determined to catch up. You and your canine companion ran in big circles, to avoid getting tagged back. The bombardment of raindrops, smacked against your skin, running into your eyesight, “C’mon, Jonesy, keep running or he’ll catch us!”

“Got ya!” Lester lightly smacked the back of your neck before turning on a dime and speeding away from you, “Gotta be faster than that, Y/N!”

“I’ll show you fast!” you called wiping the rainy haze from your eyes as you sprinted after him with Jonesy barking her support. You nearly had him multiple times, but he always managed to abruptly alter his course, just out of your reach. You never knew Lester could be so elusive. Despite all the fun, your lungs already burned and you were already slowing down. As Lester got father away, you glanced down at Jonesy, “I don’t think I can go on! Avenge me, Jonesy!” you said dramatically as you patted her on the head, “You’re it, Jonesy, go get him! Get Lester!”

Jonesy barked in understanding, speeding up to catch Lester. You jogged after them as you witnessed Jonesy rear back on her hind legs and push Lester from behind, forcing him to the ground before attacking him with kisses.

“Good girl!” you praised as you caught up to them, catching your breath, “You got him!”

“She got me alright!” Lester laughed through the slobbery assault.

Vincent and Bo watched the game unfold from the staircase. Through it all, Vincent had made his way to the edge of the rainfall and put his hand out like you had done just moments ago.

“Just look at those two, laughin’ like idiots.” Bo said with a shake of his head as he crossed his arms. He glanced at his twin to see him eyeing the rain with curiosity, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna start too.”

Vincent looked back with a sheepish glance before turning around to see you helping Lester to his feet. He tilted his head as he watched you instruct his younger brother to copy the way you looked up at the sky and held out your arms, spinning around and around until you both fell on your butts. The sound of both of you laughing cut through the rain and the music. You were having so much fun together.

“Good God, they’ve finally lost it.” Bo quipped.

“I heard that, Bo!” you shouted, pushing away the hair that stuck to your face, “You know that could’ve been you that shoved Lester to the ground, but you missed out!”

“C’mon, Bo! Don’t ya wanna wrestle, for old times’ sake? Or are ya ‘fraid of losin’?” Lester taunted

“Fuck no.” Bo stated. You, Lester and Jonesy made your way to the staircase, still standing in the rain.

“How about you, Vincent? Change your mind?” you asked pleadingly. Vincent’s eye darted between you, the rain, and Bo. “Please, for me? Just for a little while?” Vincent glanced back at Bo who rolled his eyes,

“Hey, don’t let me stop you from makin’ a fool of yourself.” Bo said with a wave of his hand, “Be my guest.”

“Every party needs a pooper, Bo!” You teased as you drew Vincent into the rain party. Bo scoffed as he lit up another cigarette, continuing to watch from his sheltered spot.

As the rain fell over Vincent, he held his hands out to catch the drops, looking up at the storm clouds. There was something refreshing about standing in a rain like this. It wasn’t like getting caught in a storm and freezing from the cold winds behind it. It was warm and comforting, like the season of summer was wrapping him in its embrace.

“See, it’s not so bad, right?” your voice drew Vincent from his daze. He nodded in agreement,

“Never thought of rain like this.” He said softly

“Things like rain can always turn into fun if you’re with the right people.” You told him with a sweet smile.

As puddles began to form, Jonesy started zooming through them with Vincent jogging in tow, splashing you and Lester in their wake. You two were distracted trying to catch raindrops on your tongues, giggling every time you were successful. It was only a few moments later you saw Bo move to the edge of the rain and glance up at the clouds. You turned to face him,

“Come on, Bo!” you begged

“If ya’ll wanna make assholes of yourselves, that’s fine! I told you to leave me out of it!” Bo shouted back, digging his heels in and turning his back to all of you to finish his cigarette in peace. You grumbled to yourself.

“Hey, I got a way to get Bo to play along.” Lester whispered.

“This won’t end in either of you getting maimed or put him in a foul mood will it?” you asked cautiously.

“No promises, but Bo’s always in a bad mood, anyway.” Lester said with a mischievous grin, “I used to do this all the time when we was kids. Used to dander him up real quick. Watch this.”

“Wait, Lester!” you called in a hushed voice. He ignored you as he silently crept up behind his oldest brother as you prayed for his safety and Bo’s mercy. You bore horrified, silent witness as Lester drew closer to Bo, stopping just behind him. Without hesitation, Lester smacked Bo across the back of the head, lurching him forward, before hauling ass. Bo did a double take, not realizing what just happened until he registered Lester’s retreating figure. His face twisted in scowl as his face turned bright red, as he threw down his cigarette.

“You get the fuck back over here, you smelly bastard!” Bo shouted as he ran after his younger brother, “I’m gonna rip your arm off and smack you across the head, see how you like it! I swear to Christ I will!”

“I’m sorry! Don’t hurt me, Bo! I’m just a boy!” Lester called back through his fit of hysterical laughter. Threat of physical dismemberment or not, Lester was having a grand old time. They continued to yell back and forth through their game of chase.

“Wait! Bo! Lester!” you cried as you followed after them with Vincent, “Bo, don’t hurt your brother!” You were pretty sure Bo wasn’t as angry as he said he was. If he really wanted to kill Lester, he wouldn’t be shouting so much.

Bo finally caught up to Lester in the grass and tackled him into the mud. The two of them wrestled, trying to get the other in a headlock first, rolling all around a mudpuddle. You and Vincent caught up and watched from the sidelines. Part of you wanted to stop them so neither of them would get hurt, but the other part wanted to see how this played out. Bo eventually got the upper hand, shaking Lester back and forth by his shirt.

“Wait, wait! Bo! Stop, please!” Lester pleaded, “Just let me say somethin’!” Bo stopped his literal shakedown, narrowing his eyes skeptically.

“What?” he hissed angrily.

“I hope ya like pie.” Lester said with a deep breath in.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Mud pie!” Lester screeched as he hurled a huge wad of mud directly in Bo’s face, knocking off his hat. You and Vincent’s hands flew to your mouths. Lester used the initial shock to scurry out of Bo’s grip to just a few feet in front of him. There had never been a moment more fragile, nobody dared say anything. Silence never seemed so loud before. Bo slowly moved his hands to his eyes and scooped away the mud with a violent flick of his hands. It was so funny, but you were too scared to laugh. He looked so mad that he hadn’t seen that one coming. Bo’s blue eyes peaked out from the brown of the mud as he shifted his dangerous glare on Lester again. The youngest Sinclair practically gulped with a nervous smile, “No hard feelins?”

As Bo pounced once more, you and Vincent jumped up. Vincent tried to hold Bo back while you did what you could to release his grip on Lester’s ankle. While you two struggled to keep them at bay, Lester and Bo kept flinging handfuls of mud at one another. All of you yelling over one another the whole time. Vincent quickly lost his grip on his twin from the slick mud and rain covering both of them now. Bo swiftly swiped up another handful of mud, reeling back with reckless abandon and zero aim, thus whipping you directly in the face. The force knocked you back as you sputtered through the dirt in your mouth and eyes.

All grappling ceased with gasps from all three of brothers. Vincent slowly moved toward you with his hands out, trying to see if you needed help. You caught a glimpse of their concerned faces through the muddy haze. In reality, you were biting back a smirk as you were about to get retribution. You started violently rubbing at your eyes,

“Ow, ow, my eyes! It hurts! I can’t see!” you feigned helplessness, adding a waver to your voice for effect. They were all on their feet in an instant. Vincent came up next to you and tilted your head up to the rain to try to help flush your eyes. Lester patted your shoulder to comfort you, telling you not to panic. Bo grabbed your wrists from your face,

“Shit, Y/N!” he said, frustration masking the guilt, “Stop rubbing at ‘em, you’re gonna make it worse. Let me see.”

“No! This is your fault!” you said, screwing your eyes tighter.

“Don’t be a brat, let me take a look!” Bo ordered. With that, you opened your eyes and snapped your head forward with an evil smirk. “What the h-”

Without warning, you tackled him back into the mudpuddle, startling all three brothers. With Bo stunned for the second time that evening, you scooped up all the mud you could hold and plopped it on his face.

“Suck mud, Sinclair!” you yelled with wicked laughter. Bo sat up, knocking you over,

“You little shit!” he fumed “You play dirty!”  

“I play to win, old man!” you boasted. Bo got up, ready to attack again, before Lester joined the fray once more, piling more mud onto his older brother’s hair. Bo yanked Lester from behind him and hooked an arm around his neck.

“I can take both of you, bring it on!” Bo proclaimed as he dunked Lester’s head in the mud over and over. You wrapped your arms around Bo’s broad shoulders and tried to drag him back down into the mud with you, a difficult feat as he was twice your size, “The hell are you tryin’ to do? Choke me out?”

“If it’s death by mud for one, is death by mud for all!” you shouted through your struggle. Jonesy started running around the three of you, caking all of you in splashes of mud.

Vincent didn’t know whether to be amused or distraught at the spectacle before him. At least you weren’t actually hurt. Watching you all squabble while Bo struggled between keeping Lester in a headlock and all your weight pulling him backwards was sight to be seen. He could have never predicted this was how his day would end. He tilted his head and watched, knowing better than to get involved. He got hit with a few rogue mud pies, but he wasn’t too bothered about it since he was already a mess from trying to hold back Bo. It seemed he was the only adult living with three children.

Eventually the three of you wore yourself out by the time you were pretty much caked in mud from head to toe. You, Bo, and Lester ended sitting in the mud puddle, too tired to continue the scuffle. You were leaning back on your hands, Lester was laying back completely, and Bo was sitting back on his knees. The rain, now more of a light drizzle, washed a little of the mud away, but not much. You all glanced at one another, taking in your ridiculous states and couldn’t help but laugh at yourselves. You and Lester started another fit of hysterics as Bo cracked a smiled. Vincent even chuckled under his mask.

“See, now wasn’t that fun?” you asked them as you all continued to laugh. It was a successful mud fight if ever there was one.

“Yeah, loads. I love havin’ mud and dirt in my ass crack.” Bo snorted as he stood up from the puddle, searching for his hat.

“I thought it was a riot, Y/N!” Lester disagreed as he stood up as well “Can’t believe we didn’t try this sooner. Most fun I’ve had in some time.”

“Did you have fun, Vincent?” you asked

“Yes. Messy, though.” He rasped, taking in the mud that had left Jonesy’s fur completely brown. He looked back at you saying, “It was nice.”

“I wanted you all to have fun for a little while. Thought you all deserved a break.” You said as Vincent and Lester hauled you up from the mud.

“Well, personally, I’m all funned out.” Bo said sarcastically as he placed his hat back on his head “And next time you actually hurt yourself, I’m not gonna do a thing about it. Make you think twice ‘bout cryin’ wolf.”

“I was just getting even with you for smacking me in the face. But I’m sorry if I worried any of you.” You said  

“Fine, I suppose we’re even, in that case. Just don’t do it again.” Bo said with a wave of his hand, unconcerned with the whole ordeal, “Now, let’s go home. I need another cigarette since someone made me drop my other one.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go back.” You agreed.

As you all made your way back to the front of the house, the trickle gave way to a light mist. The comforting smell of raindrops hanging on the cedar trees enveloped your senses; bringing with it a unique kind of serenity. The radio was still going strong. Bo leaned up against the staircase and lit another cigarette from the pack he’d thankfully left behind from the mud war. Vincent sat on the top stairs with Jonesy, starting to wipe off her paws with an old rag from the porch. Lester popped inside the house to grab his sweet tea before returning outside and descending the stairs again to make idle conversation with Bo. You were sitting in silence next to Vincent and Jonesy, taking it all in.

Your attention was pulled to the radio as a different song started up. You recognized it. It was that old Paul Simon song ‘Kodachrome.’ Far too serendipitous to be ignored. You jumped up from your seat and ran back inside for your camera, none of the boys concerned with your disappearance. You came back to stand in the doorway and pointed your camera at the brothers.

“Everyone say: Cheesy, Crappy Photos!” you chirped. They all looked up at you. Bo with a half-annoyed, half-amused glance. Lester beaming with an enthusiastic wave. Vincent content and comfortable, sitting with Jonesy pulled up in his lap. With an infamous click, your camera printed out the picture and you set it face down by the others on the pool table. You returned to sit back on the porch, camera still in hand. The Paul Simon song echoed through the summer air.

Kodachrome They give us those nice bright colors They give us the greens of summers Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, oh yeah I got a Nikon camera I love to take a photograph So mama, don't take my Kodachrome away

Well, unlike Mr. Simon, you didn’t have Kodachrome film or a Nikon camera, but you did have a Polaroid and a fire under your ass. Maybe you were romanticizing this whole thing too much, maybe these photographs wouldn’t mean a thing, but you didn’t care. Moments like these deserved to be remembered in color, for all they’re worth. Bo, Vincent, and Lester deserve to have good days that they want look back on. If there was a chance just one photo could give that to them, you had to try.

So, if a picture is worth a thousand words, there were a billion things you were going to tell them.

[awkward-lesbian-writer]

Sarah Lyons x Female Lone Wanderer Christmas Fanfic

(This is probably not as good I as I hope but I started this at 3:30am and I’m tired lol, I am currently writing this part at 4:45am but anyways...on to the fanfic!)

It was December 25th 2277 and it was Lissandra's first Christmas outside of Vault 101. She wasn't sure if she should be glad she managed to live this long or sad. She had lost her father over the course of months but managed to find Madison Li, the woman her mother wanted to be her Godmother. She defeated the Enclave and with the Lyon's Pride Brotherhood of Steel and currently resided at The Citadel. The Citadel, regardless of the fact that everyone was soldiers, was actually a lot more lively than the Vault.

Sure the Overseer would organize a Vault wide party in their atrium but here, everyone was laughing and even drinking some pretty rancid stuff regardless if it was a holiday or not. Apparently one of the Scribes had made moonshine, she only knew of moonshine from the pre-war history books that had been in the Vault. A week prior they had each been given a name, they had to find a present for that person as some sort of game. She was pretty sure it was called Secret Santa, the adults played it in the Vault. She had drawn Sarah Lyons...okay that was a bit hard. If she had to described in four words, Lissandra would say: Woman shaped battering ram. The Power Armor the woman wore made her look smaller than she actually was.

It wasn't until the day after Fawkes, her rather intelligent Super Mutant friend/companion, turned on the purifier instead of Lissandra or Sarah sacrificing themselves, that she saw Sarah out of her armor. The Citadel had showers for women and men, in separate rooms of course, and Lissandra had gone there shortly after arriving and saw the older woman in nothing but a tank top and her Brotherhood issued pants. She wasn't even sure if woman shaped battering ram was fitting for her, she would love to see her try and arm wrestle Fawkes.

She managed to find to put together a pretty powerful laser rifle as an actual clean look canvas with intact and still slightly liquid paint, nothing a bit of water wouldn't fix. She first sketched out the Lyon's Pride symbol before painting it with Sarah's face on one side and her father's on the other side. She knew how important they were to one another, maybe not as close as Lissandra had been to James but they loved one another.

The 19 year old tipped the fine tipped brush into white paint before signing on the black background 'Lissandra' in the bottom right corner. Granted, they were suppose to do one present but it was after all her first Christmas outside the vault. She missed her friends, she missed Amata, she missed the safety of the Vault but at the same time didn't. She reached over and plucked a Fancy Lad Snake Cake from it's box and pealed the wrapping off it before popping the small cake into her mouth.

There was a knock on the door and before she could say anything, the door opened and she instantly turned the easel, she had also found with the canvas, around so it's back faced Owyn Lyons, Sarah's father. He chuckled and rubbed at his beard. "You get me?" She shook her head. "Sarah?" She remained quiet. "I won't tell her kid."

Lissandra swallowed the cake and nodded before turning it for him to see. "I already made her a new rifle but...I wanted to do more."

He looked impressed, speechless even. The girl mainly kept to herself, except for asking for a few missions here and there to earn some caps, they knew nothing other than she came from Vault 101, was James' daughter and was Madison's Goddaughter...not that Madison seemed to pay much attention to her. She took the silence to grab another snack cake, this time biting it in half. "You paint?"

"I did my fair share in the vault." Lissandra answered truthfully. "It's been maybe two years since I last picked up a paint brush." Speaking of which, she picked up the fine tipped brush and put it into the cup of water, swirling it around to clean the brush of the paint.

"Well I think she'll love it."

"I hope so." she laughed making him smile. "What can I do for you Elder?"

He looked confused before realizing he came here for a reason. "Oh." He looked at the pocket watch he carried. "It's seven forty-five. The party starts in fifteen. Trying to give everyone a heads up. Be in the common room at eight." She nodded and he left her room.

"Right." was all she could say as she looked at the painting.

Pulling her Vault suit up from where it hung at her waist and slid her arms in, pulling the zipper up to the middle of her chest and grabbed the wrapped rifle, it was in a box...there was no way in held she'd try to wrap it with out a box. Her father taught her to always find a box big enough if she believed she couldn't wrap the actual present. Looking at the canvas, she debated whether or not to quickly go find something to put it in but shook her head. No time. She tested several spots with her fingers to make sure it was dry and it was, her name drying quickly too.

The common room was about three minutes from her room, it got so loud in there sometimes that it used to keep her up but she was used to it now. She walked in and saw several BoS Soldiers sitting around, enjoying that fucking moonshine. She threw up the first time she drank it and had never heard Sarah laugh so hard before while trying to comfort the puking teen. She instantly went to her normal corner and sat down on a couch when Sarah walked in in nothing but a tank top and her standard issue BoS pants, she'd suggest it was a cold but the Capital Wasteland rarely got cold anymore since the Great War.

She was carrying a box and was laughing when one of the soldiers attempted to pass her a beer bottle re-purposed as a moonshine bottle. She waved her hand and said something along the lines of later. She looked at Lissandra and that smile turned bigger. She moved through the growing crowd of soldiers and stood on the other side of the table that Lissandra sat in front of. "You look pretty." she stated making the 19 year old knit her brows together. She looked pretty? She looked like she did every day just minus the smell of the wasteland.

"...uh...thanks?" she asked.

The Sentinel looked around and noticed people were already giving their presents. "Here." she put the box on the table making Lissandra realize they had gotten each other.

The young woman blinked several times before snapping out of whatever stupor she was in and put her box on the table before pushing it to Sarah. "I got you." she stated making the blonde snort with laughter. "Do you want that first or..." she raised the canvas up a bit that was backwards so Sarah couldn't see it yet.

"Oh!" she reached out for it making Lissandra hesitantly pass it to the older woman.

Once it was in the Sentinel's hands there was no going back. It was turned over and she saw those blue eyes taking in every inch of it. Her own hazel eyes looking nervous as she tried to figure out what expression she was reading. "Sentinel?"

Sarah opened her mouth but automatically shut it. It was a good solid and agonizing three minutes before those blue eyes looked up and locked with Lissandra's hazel eyes. "This is beautiful." she spoke making the Lone Wanderer's heart almost leap out her chest. "You did this?" The young woman nodded. She moved around the table and actually hugged the woman making her tense up and squeak as she felt those powerful arms wrap around her.

"Might wanna open your other gift before you put me in this bear hug." she managed.

"Alright but after, you're opening yours."

"Yes ma'am." chuckled the teen.

The wrapping paper wasn't proper wrapping paper. She took pages from old and destroyed books, she actually liked how it turned out.  She watched as Sarah seemed to carefully take the wrapping off, maybe she wanted to read the pages? The top of the box was lifted off and inside was the laser rifle that took Lissandra two sleepless nights to get working. On both sides was the Lyon's Pride symbol painted on it. She picked it up and took some of the energy cells she put in the box into the gun before watching it light up as it activated.

She aimed and fired, the laser cutting a moonshine bottle directly in half and striking the wall, leaving a scorch mark in it's wake. Everyone jumped at the sound of the bottle breaking, mainly from the top of the bottle hitting the ground and shattering rather than the laser cutting it in half. "I tested it on super mutants, it's very efficient." she stated as Sarah ejected the energy cell.

"You're amazing, you know that." she spoke tilting her head to the side making a blush appear on the young woman's cheeks. "You found this?"

"M-Made it. I made it."

"Alright, amazing is an understatement." she sat her gun down gently and smacked the younger of the two hard on the back. "Your turn."

Right, it was wasn't it? She noticed the wrapping on her present was posters, possibly pre-war posters at that. She undid them gently and lifted the top off to see a leather jacket that made her think of Tunnel Snakes, fucking Tunnel Snakes, but her eyes locked on the yellow 101 stitched into the back making her pull it out and smile. The jacket Butch gave her when she left had been warm and this felt about the right weight. She shifted and slid it on before smiling as she tugged the sleeves up a bit to her elbows, the sleeves of her Vault suit sticking out.

The blonde tugged on it a bit before smiling. "Guess that kid at Rivet City was right about your size."

Wait what? "Kid? What kid?"

"Butch I think. He said he knew you when he heard me mention your name. Admitted to bullying you when you were younger, almost broke his nose but he managed to say you two were friends now."

Where they friends now? She'd have to go to Rivet City and see what he was doing there? Sure she sided with Amata to keep Vault 101 open but she didn't expect anyone to leave or at least leave and go that far. Rivet City took Lissandra about a fully day to reach due to all the Super Mutants, Raiders, and creatures that wanted to kill her. She looked back in the box and saw a framed photos that made her heart nearly stop. One was of herself with her father, having been taken by Jones a few months before James left the Vault, the second was a photo of her father with her mother, and the third was her mother's favorite biblical saying. The last time she saw these three photos, they had been in her father's room and office back in the Vault.

She picked up the photo of herself and her father, her thumb rubbing across the glass. "How?"

"I went to your Vault after getting the jacket by Butch made. He said the current Overseer would know what else to give you. Some of the inhabitants were not friendly but that Amata, sweet girl." Lissandra knew she was a sweet girl and when she was younger, she had a crush on her best friend up until she was 18 but had she been sweet the day she told Lissandra she could never be apart of the Vault again? That hurt more than anything. She helped Amata take control of the Vault from her father and was told that there was no longer a place for her to stay in the Vault.

Fawkes being the gentle soul he was, carried a distraught Lissandra back to the Citadel. Her mind wasn't in a right place to fight anything or anyone along the way. She stayed locked up in her room for several days, managing to eat what Sarah or some scribes dropped off for her. "Yeah." was all she could manage as Sarah stared at her. She moved and hugged her this time, arms slipping around her waist to return it.

"Mistletoe!" shouted someone making the two look to see a Scribe standing beside them and looked up, what looked like a paper mistletoe was being held above them. She had seen plastic ones in the Vault, maybe she could run to the Vault and ask Amata for one for next year if she remained with the Brotherhood.

The two looked at each other, Lissandra blushing as Sarah smirked. "I...no..." was all Lissandra managed to get out. She and Amata had "kissed" when they were eight, a quick peck on the lips as Butch teased them with a mistletoe...that sure shut him up. "I mean not that I wouldn't...I...I don't know what I mean but..."

She never finished her sentence before lips pressed against her own. They were slightly chapped but soft at the same time against her. She barely managed to catch the whistling of several Soldiers whistling at the sight of their Sentinel kissing their newest recruit. Sarah pulled away with a small wet noise before eyeing the young girl again, she put her left hand on the girl's cheek before leaning in and kissing her again. This kiss probably should've happened somewhere private cause next thing the 19 year old knew was there was a tongue pushing it's way into her mouth.

This was something she had never done before, properly kissing like this instead of a quick peck. The blonde's arm tightened around her waist, pulling their bodies together. Breasts against breasts and hips against hips, even though Sarah stood maybe an inch taller than Lissandra. Someone clapped beside the two making them pull apart and Sarah turned a pretty red as she saw her father standing there.

"You want to make out with our newest recruit, than take her to your bedroom." he chuckled making Sarah nod.

Lissandra lowered her head, her hair moving to shield her face as BoS men and women shouted words of encouragement but a few men said something inappropriately that made Sarah hugged her waist tightly, possessive almost. Her father shouted something to make them shut up as the blonde lifted the younger woman's head and pressed their foreheads together.

She saw the Lone Wanderer's expression and smiled. "Ignore them." she whispered. "Ignore them and focus on me." Sarah saw Lissandra run her tongue along her bottom lip, wetting it most likely.  "You're the best gift I could've been given this year." There was a look of surprise on the other woman's face. "I mean, if we're...I assumed..."

Lips pressed against Sarah's quickly. "No you didn't assume." she chuckled. "I've liked you since we met on my way to Galaxy Radio. Regardless to the fact you were a bit of a hard ass but I...I felt something. So you're also the best gift I could've been given this year. After this shitty fucking year I had, you're my silver lining. So does that mean we're...?"

"You're my girlfriend. On December twenty-fifth, we became girlfriends. Remember that." she stated cupping Lissandra's face.

A smile formed on her face. Would her father approve? Sarah's father seemed to. Hell would Madison approve? That was all that mattered to her now. Aside from Sarah, Madison was the only other person she cared about. "Thank you." she whispered as tears slid down her cheeks.

Those power arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a comforting hug and she buried her face into Sarah's neck. She had lost her father and lost her home but she gained a girlfriend. "Let me know when you're okay, everyone will tease you for days if they see you crying." chuckled the blonde making a laugh erupt from the younger woman. She nodded and tightened her hold on Sarah.

They stayed like that for several moments, soldiers passing their gifts and alcohol back and forth. Sarah rested her chin on top of Lissandra's head and smiled towards her father who flashed a smile of his own and a thumbs up. He approved and to be honest, Sarah couldn't have chosen a better partner. "I love you." was all the young woman said.

"I love you too." whispered the Sentinel.

When asked Lissandra would admit that even though she had been exiled from her home and lost her father, this Christmas wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Sarah made everything better from day one. She'd openly state that she would never wish to return to Vault 101, she was happy with Sarah. She was happy being her girlfriend and eventual fiancee. Even though she was parent-less, she wouldn't trade this life for anything because she was loved and cared for by the most important person in her life, Sentinel Sarah Lyons.

(Note: SARAH LIVES IN MY FALLOUT 4 FANFIC CAUSE REASONS! Mainly I hate Maxson and I like the headcanon that Maxson over threw her to take control over the Prydwen but instead of Sarah dying, she was left for dead and Lissandra vows to take revenge on Maxson but that'll happen in my main Fallout 4 fanfic...whenever I post it lol)

[larryland]

It’s late July and the theatre scene is hopping! None of our regular Berkshire On Stage critics was able to fit a trip to the Mac-Haydn to see The Hunchback of Notre Dame into their schedule, but luckily Lisa Jarisch, a longtime subscriber to the Mac, agreed to share her impressions of the production. A true theatre lover, Jarisch holds a BA in English from Mount Holyoke College and has experience behind the scenes as a stage manager.

Berkshire on Stage: This is a new musical for the Mac-Haydn, and for the region. In fact, it was only just licensed for production in 2016. Have you ever seen the 1996 Disney animated film or read Victor Hugo’s 1831 novel on which it was based?

Lisa Jarisch: I am totally unfamiliar with the Disney film, and have but a vague recollection of reading the original “back in the day” when classics were a regular part of high school English curriculum. The basic story, however, has somehow worked its way into my English major consciousness…as in the name of Quasimodo always rings a bell. I am also old enough to recall the Charles Laughton film version…which James Benjamin Rodgers obviously channels in Quasimodo’s costume and make-up.

BoS: While it bears the Disney name, this is not a happy fairy tale. Tell us the plot of the show.

Jarisch: “Half-made” and orphaned, Quasimodo (James Benjamin Rodgers) is raised in solitude in the bell tower of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, and in servitude to the (im)pious Dom Frollo (Quinto Ott), whose intense hatred for the Gypsies who infest the street of Paris grows stronger during the Feast of Fools, when the city is turned “Topsy Turvy” and passions given free rein. Yearning to experience what he sees “Out There,” Quasimodo gives in to the urgings of the lesser angels…the stone gargoyles who have been his only friends in the tower. The stone saints who also share his world are less successful in their persuasion.

Crowned King of Fools during a wild night of debauchery, Quasimodo is revealed as the hideous, hump-backed and damaged “creature” his uncle has made him believe he is. As he us mocked, ridiculed, and attacked, the gypsy girl Esmeralda (Laura Helm) rises to his defense, offering kindness and a sip of water, earning Quasimodo’s undying, and ultimately unrequited, love.

Dom Frollo’s hatred for the gypsies reaches a crescendo and he orders his Captain of the Guard, Phoebus (Michael Brennan), to hunt down Esmeralda, for whom he is developing a most unholy passion, blaming her and the entire band of gypsies for the corruption of Quasimodo, who is no longer his willing slave. The ensuing pursuit changes everyone’s lives forever.

BoS: These sound like very adult themes, closer to what Victor Hugo wrote than what Disney wrought. What age group would you recommend this show for?

Jarisch: This is NOT the Disney fairy tale version. Unrequited love, ever-increasing lustful passion from a clergyman, deep-seated ethnic prejudice rearing its ugly head, mob-mentality bullying, emotional and sexual awakenings in a man physically, mentally and emotionally repressed his whole life. This is a show not likely to be enjoyed or understood by children under 12.

BoS: What stood out to you about this production? What were the highlights?

Jarisch: This is a glorious highlight of the Mac-Haydn’s 50th season, starting with the stunning vocals from each of the three leads. Ott, as the cruel, misguided, lecherous, and sanctimonious Dom Frollo, brings the house down with every number, none more so than the spine-tingling “Hellfire” at the end of Act I. His deep, rich baritone almost shatters the walls of the cathedral. He is a force to be reckoned with in both character and voice.

Helm brings a hardened yet vulnerable quality to her role as Esmeralda, while James Benjamin Rodgers—a personal favorite since his Jekyll and Hyde at the Mac several years ago—plays Quasimodo with just the right amount of servility, becoming the classic Tragic Hero as he develops self-awareness. His vocals are true and strong and manage to express both his recognition of his own deformity in the eyes of the world, and his frustration with the world that cannot see the man under them, so to speak. His denunciation of the stone saints and sinners who have been his companions, confidants, and conscience since birth in “Made of Stone” is no less a show-stopper than Ott’s “Hellfire.”

Special kudos to Gabe Belyeu—another personal favorite for years—in the role of Colpin, King of the gypsies, who serves as narrator to all the action swirling through Paris. He is at times both bold and brash, while counseling Esmeralda to flee as all is lost, he nonetheless orchestrates the gypsy crew to ever-increasing levels of hostility against the clergy, while taking a stand for the rights of all to exist in community, if not churchly Communion.

Brennan as Phoebus holds his own vocally against the truly Broadway-worthy voices of Ott , Helm, and Rodgers. His Phoebus is a lightly-sketched portrait of an Army officer mired in the throes of self-promotion and service to the church who is ultimately transformed by the strength of love, truth, and justice.

BoS: Were there things that bothered you? What would you have done differently?

Jarisch: I had some issues with the use of the spotlights in Act II. I was distracted from the stage action and the accompanying vocals by poorly focused and off-center lighting.

BoS: In some productions, Quasimodo is portrayed as being deaf and speaks in sign language. Was that the case in this production? If so, how did it work?

Jarisch: Quasimodo is clearly challenged in his communication skills; in this production Rodgers brings a halting, sometimes single-syllabic cadence to his speech. It’s made clear in his second encounter with Esmeralda that he is deaf, and able to read lips. Obviously, his singing is not affected by this impediment—Rodgers’ pure and strong voice is more than equal to the musical numbers set before him.

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BoS: Lyricist Alan Menken and composer Stephen Schwartz felt that having a live choir on stage was integral in achieving the full-bodied sound they had crafted for the film. Did the Mac-Haydn production go that route?

Jarisch: They most certainly did! Choirs of saints and sinners, hooded monks, and gypsy travelers all pay homage to the classical Greek chorus, enhancing the depth of the emotions swirling between the characters and through the plot. At times, the sheer volume of the large ensemble chorus made it difficult to clearly understand the lyrics, but the production was definitely the better for their presence.

BoS: Like many theatrical recreations of animated films, there are certain effects that are difficult, if not impossible to reproduce, even for large theatres. The Mac-Haydn is a small house and shows are performed in the round, meaning that everything is visible to the audience. Did they attempt some of the big effects?

Jarisch: As I have been for years, I continue to be amazed by the ingenuity and creativity shown when the Mac does shows which typically call for elaborate stage effects clearly not possible on a small theatre-in-the-round stage. I am still awe-struck by the technical quality of “Les Miserables” several years ago – the striking of the barricades at the top of Act II was stunning. Here John Saunders again delivers a beautifully directed piece, with choreography by Sebastiani Romagnolo more than up to the task of making gypsies, clergy, hunchbacks, gargoyles, and saints move in unison.

In Hunchback… set and lighting designer Andrew Gmoser succeeds in capturing the essence of the soaring grandeur of Notre Dame Cathedral, the gypsy-filled streets of Paris, and the lonely yet exhilaratingly open bell tower “At the Top of the World” which ultimately provides a sanctuary for the doomed lovers. The stained-glass panels surrounding the stage are stunning; when backlit they truly bring the cathedral alive. A set of large, oversize bells descends upon the stage at the appropriate moments.

Of particular note is the aerial work performed in “Topsy Turvy.” For the second time this season a large hoop descends from the rafters, allowing the performance of lithe, undulating aerial acts which highlight the gypsy world gone berserk on the Feast of Fools. I was impressed when such goings-on graced the stage in Cabaret earlier this season, and I was equally impressed this time.

BoS: Tell us about the physical production – lights, sound, costumes – did everything work together well?

Jarisch: Alison Zador’s gypsy costumes were perfect – silky, flowing, vibrant representations of their outcast, traveling lifestyle. Quasimodo is virtually the expected stereotype of the title role – hump-backed (I SWEAR his hump moved between Act I and II, but then I realized this was NOT Young Frankenstein!), a dragging limp, and a grotesquely-made up face resembling the gargoyles standing stoic watch in each corner of the bell tower set. The orchestra, under the batons of David Maglione and Jillian Zack,  complemented rather than competed with the vocal performances, an issue I’ve had with some previous productions, where it seemed that the orchestra and singers were engaged in a duel of decibels.

BoS: Any concluding words to help our readers decide if this is a show they want to see?

Jarisch: Even without season tickets, the allure of seeing Ott, Rodgers, Helm, and Belyeu would have had me running for the box office. They, and the ensemble cast, did not disappoint. While the score is certainly not one to remember – I can’t honestly say I left the theatre humming – nor are any of the songs likely to become standards on the karaoke scene – the music and lyrics by Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz (Godspell, Pippin, Wicked) captures the essence of the work, from the unrequited love of Quasimodo, to the doomed love of Esmeralda and Phoebus, to the sordid ecclesiastical lusts of Dom Frollo. I am glad the Mac-Haydn has given the region such a fine introduction to this piece.

Admittedly I would listen to Ott and Rodgers sing the Chatham phone book, but this is a show worth the price of admission, and as usual, there is not a bad seat in the round-stage house.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame, book by PeterParnell, music by Stephen Schwartz, lyrics by Alan Menken, directed by John Saunders, musical direction by David Maglione and Jillian Zack, and choreographed by Sebastiani Romagnolo, runs July 26-August 5, 2018, at the Mac-Haydn Theatre, 1924 NY Route 203 in Chatham, NY. Scenic and lighting design by Andrew Gmoser, costume design by Alison Zador. CAST: James benjamin Rodgers as Quasimodo, Quinto Ott as Dom Frollo, Laura Helm as Esmeralda, Gabe Belyeu as Clopin Trouillefou, Michael Brennan as Phoebus de Martin.

For showtimes and more details please visit www.machaydntheatre.org or call the box office at 518-392-9292

REVIEW: The Hunchback of Notre Dame” at the Mac-Haydn Theatre It’s late July and the theatre scene is hopping! None of our regular Berkshire On Stage critics was able to fit a trip to the Mac-Haydn to see…