#ill throw the sketches i did up here later. at some point

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

perchance to dream

(inspired by @inkedberries 40s bruce wayne art because yeah. yeah he is a 40s heartthrob. my god)

[shoichee]

KNB OC

Name: Shirobi Arisu

School: Touou Academy

Zodiac: Pisces

Note: I gave it an attempt to draw her portraits in the Production I.G artstyle! Excuse the lazy anatomy and messy sketch lines, er... hope they don’t distract you too bad? Also EXTREMELY long profile, hence the cut! This is a 300-follower special, but perhaps I’ll do something with Shirobi in the future! (Shirobi is her surname, Arisu is her first name)

Appearances

Personality

she is very much described to be “fox-like” in demeanor, slipping in and out of conversations naturally and with ease, being able to show different aspects and sides of her to different types of people

her default persona in encountering new people is a noble, unassuming/demure one in order to gauge how they interact with her before adjusting accordingly // you can see what that looks like here

a very innate actress, but the most cynical description of her would be “two-faced,” though it’s important to note that her personas are not so drastic that they seem like different people (like Akashi’s situation); perhaps if someone was keenly observing her for a while, they would notice

she does subtle shifts in aspects of her personality’s repertoire because of: 1.) becoming more compatible with people, and thus, having the most efficient conversations without having “annoying, unnecessary” conflicts with them, and 2.) studying people in different social settings is interesting to her

as a result of her jumping around and exploring different sides of her to different people daily, she does wind up suffering from mini identity crises and mental exhaustion very frequently

after a whole dismantle of her *mostly harmless* mind schemes (particularly by a close friend or two later on), her “true self” would be a deflective “tsundere-like” character, since her visceral reaction is for her to always slip into a convenient persona for the situation rather than being initially honest with herself and the people around her, and without the security of a “persona,” she gets flustered and embarrassed very *very* easily

hobbies in her free time include either being alone to sleep and not worrying about how to present herself or reading various works of (non)fiction (of many genres)/psychology to study people and how they tick (bonus: became a recent internet junkie after finding greater convenience in just finding articles and blogs instantly with a simple click)

irony: she finds talking to people inconvenient and tiring but she finds it intriguing to study them in all aspects of behavioral, cultural, and social means (so she kind of has to talk with people)

certified ambivert

if she does approach to someone, it’s almost never for the reasons of “making friends;” if there is no intellectual gain nor tangible benefit from talking, then she won’t bother partaking in it

because of her recent upbringing, while she may not show it, she despises arguments and fights, so when situations escalate, she will attempt to either smoothly divert the subject elsewhere and/or trivialize the matter to a degree; if all else fails, she will simply disengage from the conversation (essentially avoiding confrontation) // note: see “background” section for context

Teiko-era Personality

pleasant and friendly, albeit shy

perfect example of a polite goody two-shoes and teachers’ pet but still respected among her classmates for her genuine cordiality

very reserved individual but at this time was slowly breaking out of her shell to try to befriend her classmates to distract her mind from thinking about her home life

post-divorce/3rd year of Teiko: see “background” section for context

               *while still maintaining her amiable grace, she slowly detached herself from her acquaintances and classmates, keeping to herself a lot more while critically studying them increasingly as months went by; she began to talk with others only when it was a necessity

                                   *(occurred during her 1st year of Touou) a few months after she graduated from Teiko, she stopped going to the gym after school to observe the first string’s practices and only went to their games for Kōzō’s sake (especially when he fell ill) // her observant skills quickly picked up, even from their games alone, that the Teiko team’s dynamics have completely changed (which she relates this revelation back to Kōzō in the hospital)

                                   *her current personality will hit full force once she enters high school after graduating from Teiko

“Last Game” Personality

reverted mostly back to her genuine, cordial self, but is still very spontaneous in showing different aspects of her personality in different situations, although most who know her can see right through her now (unless she really wanted to fool them, she probably could)

attempts to be more honest with herself and with others, especially in trying to unpack years of compartmentalization starting from her Teiko years

if she’s caught off guard, she will definitely become a flustered tsundere type of person

a happier person now that she’s made friends to rely on (•̀ᴗ•́)و (e.g. Momoi and Sakurai)

Background/Family

her multifaceted personality stemmed from her home life, where her parents became increasingly volatile and erratic when interacting with each other before they finally divorced her 2nd year of middle school

she constantly observed how her parents would initially act romantic on some days, but on many other days, they’d either tiptoe carefully around each other during conversations or they’d immediately fight

                    *rather than focusing on the discord of her home, she’d observe how they’d interact with each other in every situation and how despite being the two same individuals, they both act differently with each other every time they meet, thus feeding her intrigue on how individuals act in various social settings and cues

her parents would later on (shortly before divorcing) only meet up for motives of financial discussions, decisions on who she would live with for the week, etc. and they would no longer spend time together out of sentiment and love

                    *this imprinted into her belief that conversations that bring mutual benefit/reward are much better than other casual interactions, since she sees that they don’t provoke the unnecessary conflict/fights like other interactions do (e.g. seeing her parents fight when they talk about anything else)

Kōzō Shirogane (her great uncle, Teiko’s ex-coach) and Eiji Shirogane (a distant relative, Rakuzan’s current coach) are both from her father’s side of the family, hence she attended Teiko on behalf of Kōzō’s request in exchange for him paying for all of her school’s expenses (he wanted to spend more time with his great niece before he fell completely ill)

she and Kōzō would often be on the upper floor to observe practices together, and she would be immersed in studying how players would interact with each other on and off of courts; he was the one that got her into watching sports games (basketball in particular)

she graduated from Teiko a year before the GoMs did but would frequently visit their practices after school with Kōzō (until he fell ill)

she took after her mother’s surname after the divorce

Kōzō Shirogane fell ill shortly after her parents’ divorce

after graduating from middle school, she lives alone in an apartment under Shirogane’s name

she is not close with her parents but goes to visit each of them separately once in a while when Kōzō makes her go see them

she sees Kōzō as more of the father figure and cares deeply for him, and as for Eiji, she respects and admires him, but she isn’t close with him

ever since Kōzō fell ill, she would visit him in the hospital biweekly and update him on highlights from critical games from middle school and later on, inter-high and winter cup

Headcanons

she is the opposite of Kuroko in which she has a huge presence; it could be because of her hair color, hair pins, the many ways she carries herself throughout the day, or all of the above

why does she wear tons of hairpins? we don’t know, but she thinks they look nice and keeps the unruly hair out (for convenience)

sports games are fun for her to watch up close IRL because she can detect/study the mental games and simulations sparking across different players without having to talk to other people at all // televised games are useless because they cut a lot footage and cameras jump around too much for her to discern anything cohesive on the players

(if she ever got to speak with them) the most interesting people for her to converse with and study would be Midorima (because of his oha asa’s obsessions), Imayoshi, Hanamiya, Akashi, Teppei, Mitobe (she can actually understand him), and Momoi (when she doesn’t fawn over Kuroko)

no one knows what to genuinely get her for her birthday, let alone knowing her actual birthday; the closest thing they know is her zodiac sign

                     *throughout her deduced “birthday month,” different people will approach her with different gifts with what they thought she was interested in (because of her different personas she exhibited with each person): porn mags, antiques, shopping coupons, snacks, comic gags, etc.

                     *she keeps her birthday on the down low to prevent any chances of people being suspicious of her character when they try to throw a party for her and realizing she has these drastic “hobbies” and “interests” with each person // plus she doesn’t see a point of having a party because she knows how these familiar acquaintances would act in this particular situation

                     *she’s a fan of attending other people’s parties to observe them without being in the spotlight for once

she could be considered as part of the “uncrowned” generation considering her cognitive/mental skills and deduction (and she’s the same year as them)

                     *she and riko could be rivals as 2nd years in that sense, along with Momoi when she becomes a 1st year

Role/Skill

if she ever joined a sports club, her critical role would be monitoring and improving cognitive (mental) acuity especially in the following brain functions of: information processing, memory storage, attention, and situational judgement (and how they all respond and handle high pressure), since she’s so keen on studying people and how they act in different situations

she would also study opponents’ levels of acuity especially during huge pressure and high stakes

she will note environmental factors as well as lifestyles on every player; home players would get the according lists of tasks to work on to improve their acuity (which may include diet changes, mental exercises, adjusted sleep schedules, etc.) on their own and get tested on set dates

                 *will also initially ask home players to do a quick self-survey on possible genetic factors that would affect cognitive performance as well as any prescription/drug history

during club hours, she shows a very professional, polite side that purposefully distances herself from the rest of the team, and she is initially solely there to do her job and get compensations from the coach (until eventually she stays because she actually cares for the team)

Interactions

Kuroko: (Teiko + present)

polite with each other, although both will joke with each other in such a way that others can’t really tell if a joke just passed between them or if they’re being serious

she shifts her personality to be slightly more deadpan and delivers more dry humor when she’s around Kuroko

bonus: she addresses him with the nickname “Kurokuro” with the deadpan delivery, and others don’t know whether to laugh or be concerned

she doesn’t jump from his sudden appearances; while she doesn’t detect where he pops up most of the time, when he does, she just shrugs it off casually or does the dry “ahh i’m scared” or “wahhh you scared me” with surrendering hand motions whenever people around her get a genuine jumpscare from him

Kise: (Teiko + present)

with him she becomes more expressive and mildly snickers at their jokes together

the moment his fans come though, she’ll ditch him no questions asked; their constant interrogations and verbal grillings + fangirling are inconvenient to deal with // she’ll observe their behaviors from afar and take note on fan culture though, so she wouldn’t ditch him per say

she finds the fact that Kise can switch between a serious, determined persona and a flamboyant, energetic one so quickly really intriguing to witness every single time

Kise turns to her for mundane advice because “she’s just smart,” but she finds it really annoying and often gives him vague (but still valid) answers to shoo him away

Midorima: (Teiko + present)

she talks to him the most, mostly because his oha asa obsessions and meticulous rituals and schedules are ridiculously fascinating

she takes on a more serious persona (which is easy since she’s a pretty serious-like person to begin with) and subtly challenges Midorima, poking and prodding with very well-veiled questions to uncover the bottom of his obsessions

she does study up a bit of astrology and arcana books because of Midorima // one day he caught her with an astrology book on hand, and he immediately assumed she was into horoscopes as well, to which she did not deny a thing and let him convinced himself that she was (she’s gotta do what she’s gotta do)

after that ordeal, he gave her lucky items for her sign sometimes back in the Teiko days

just two smart brains having casual conversations about school

in the present day, if Takao was there, her persona switches to the one similar to what she’d use with Kise, and both would make snide remarks about Midorima

Midorima is slightly confused in seeing a subtly different side to her but he figured it was just Takao’s antics

Aomine: (Teiko + present)

when it was the days of “Puremine,” she was a supportive character, being slightly more blunt and more outspoken

she was extremely observant of his talent, and she was one of the first people to notice that he was going to bloom in talent before anyone else while also knowing its consequences // she subtly dropped hints for Aomine to slow down his pace in practicing, playing, etc. and to take a step back from basketball, but the blue-haired boy was an idiot so he didn’t pick them up one bit ((AKASHI DID THOUGH, UH))

with current Aomine, she’s presenting a more indifferent persona while further pushing a blunter side of herself when interacting with Aomine

like Imayoshi, she’s picked up on his dilemma and inner turmoil very quickly, but she wasn’t like Momoi who was actively trying to help him // she wasn’t enthusiastic in exerting effort when she knew that what he really needed to have his conflicts resolved was a definitive showdown on the courts

she doesn’t understand the appeal of porn mags at all, but feigns interest in them especially around Aomine (when they attend Touou Academy) to figure out why are people at her age so enthralled by them; Aomine definitely thinks she’s into them and gets her mags of half naked people for her and he’s extremely smug about it (“because we’re bros together” // “you’re welcome,” as he slaps her back way too hard)

she doesn’t really hang out with Aomine in Touou, maybe sometimes after school when she finds him up in the rooftop skipping practice when she’s in the mood to study how he ticks and annoy him for certain reactions to either prove/debunk her predictions

Momoi (Teiko + present)

she takes on a “girlier” and “cutesy” personality to be more compatible with Momoi to get along with her common interests

doesn’t really hang out with Momoi during the Teiko days unless Momoi approached her first with either data analyses, questions, or pleas to come with her to either: go shopping, drag Aomine, follow around Kuroko, etc.

Momoi addresses to her as “senpai” or “chan”

(during Teiko and present) asks her questions about her “love life” with Kuroko in a way that makes Momoi think she’s someone who believes in romance and lovey dovey things (she’s quite neutral about it IRL)

when Momoi finds out they both ended up at Touou, Momoi pounces on her every chance they get and drags her around because “we’re best friends!” // she goes along with it just to see how things turn out

she ends up being Momoi’s listening ear as she rants about Aomine’s awful habits or her worries about the team

Momoi begs and pleads her to join the team and assist them in some way; she outright refused, but Momoi is also intelligent in which she comes up with new offers everyday to try to convince her

she finally agrees when Momoi asked the coach to pay her a weekly salary (poor guy, but then again he’s rich) for her work and take Momoi’s word that the addition of her would be nothing but beneficial for the team’s success

because they're both on the same team together, they both spend even more time together to do analyses on both their own team members and other schools’ players

attends Touou’s games and only watches from first row seats in the audience in order to conduct naturalistic observations on both teams; she will never be on the benches unless it’s the semi-finals onwards

Murasakibara: (Teiko + present)

there isn’t much to study on this guy; he’s as straightforward as a single-file line

she either acts more of a casual childlike persona (by calling him “Muramura” or “Sakisaki-san”) or exhibits more of a stern, serious side (e.g. the persona used with Midorima) depending on the situation/context

she definitely bribes him with snacks and food to do convenient favors (in addition to using childish nicknames), or she throws the snacks far, gives them to someone else, eats them in front of him, etc. to elicit reactions from the man-child

she knows it’s better for her own good to NOT purposely provoke the scary side of Murasakibara, but when that side does come out for other reasons, it’s showtime for her; she’s going to be observing him with hidden glee

she doesn’t talk with him after graduating from Teiko; the next time she’ll see him is during the winter cup, particularly with yosen vs. seirin // it’s another movie marathon for her just watching every players and how they interact with each other (a LITERAL showdown between Teppei and Murasakibara.... Kagami and Himuro.... Himuro and Murasakibara—yeah it’s a field day)

Akashi: (Teiko + present)

she and ore-Akashi get along swell; she is at her surface self the most when conversing with him, not having a need to adjust herself that much from her initial “polite” persona

lots of theoretical talks and hypotheses in studying people and the world; they both respect each other very much

boku-Akashi is a different story; she starts avoiding him tactfully after his other side awakens

the saying “it takes one to know one” is especially true in this case: Akashi is very much aware of her two-facedness, and she is uncomfortable at the fact of him knowing such an innermost secret about herself

at the same time, she knows about where his “other side” “disappeared” to, whereas no one else hadn’t had a clue

both know about each other’s gimmicks and personalities, and throughout the rest of their years at Teiko, it’s a bunch of mind games and careful maneuverings around each other

Akashi finds it thrilling because it’s reminiscent of shogi

she finds this stressful because what the hell please leave me alone i’m trying to avoid you

after she got over her initial anxiety of this newfound revelation of new Akashi, she carefully treads this game and takes the advantage to study how this new side of Akashi ticks

he DEFINITELY caught what she was trying to do with Aomine in dropping hints; in response, he used his role as captain to push Aomine to try harder in games

she DEFINITELY caught what he was trying to do in pushing Aomine in “motivating” him; problem was, she wasn’t going to sacrifice her effort, wellbeing, and life to go against Akashi

after graduating from Teiko, when she still used to observe their practices and games, she was still very much uneasy and tried to downplay her presence to avoid Akashi’s scrutiny (sadly, her presence is too significant) // she really wished she was a Kuroko

she was able to breathe easier once she finds out later that they’re both going to different high schools; she continues to watch more of Rakuzan’s games after finding out that’s where Akashi ended up attending to figure his dynamics with his team + basketball and then predict his current mannerisms off the courts

when ore-Akashi comes back, she’s suspicious at first, but after confirming his character in person, she’s relieved that the “old him” was back (but slightly disappointed that his other self is gone // she kind of found that side of him more interesting to observe)

he still knows how many personas she has under her disposal, but he isn’t going to snitch any time soon

GoMs together: (Teiko + present)

to not give away the fact that she shows different sides to everyone, when everyone gathers/is nearby, she (at least attempts to) becomes a wallflower to observe everyone and act appropriately in the situation if she’s ever addressed to in the group; her name will always come up in some shape or form so she’s prepared to present a neutral persona without throwing people off

since the GoMs all attend different schools, it’s easier for her to socially maneuver around, however she is still cautious when near crowds (before/after games) and groups of people (such as Touou’s team) because they tend to call her over (but she’ll smoothly pretend she didn’t hear/was preoccupied and she’ll slip away)

Haizaki: (Teiko + present)

dear god, she hoped not to ever directly interact with him

he was a morbidly interesting person to observe, from far away // she’s trying to comprehend how this one middle schooler is already so immoral and violent

he’s definitely tried to hit on her, but she smoothly slipped away before he did anything else

it was a never-ending game of weasel and snake; he fancied her because she was someone who was mysterious and “hard to get,” but she’s always slipping away because he was extremely annoying to converse with and she definitely doesn’t want to end up in a fist fight with this guy

this constant chasing was significantly quashed after Akashi ordered him to quit the team (who’s to say that Akashi hadn’t also noticed that Haizaki was trying to harass her? respect women juice)

Haizaki noticed her outside the stadium before his match with kaijo a year later; she was outside ready to enter in before he blocked her way, but after a lot of sugar coating and sidestepping to try to diffuse the situation (she fooled him by feigning interest in him using a slightly more flirtatious, sly persona), she escaped from his grasp once again // it agitated him and that’s why he continued to prowl around outside before he chanced upon Alex and Himuro

Imayoshi: (present)

this guy is an Akashi; he picked up on her multifaceted personality frighteningly fast

except that instead of being wary and observant of her like Akashi would, this guy openly makes passive-aggressive remarks referring to her personality; no one except her would understand his real intentions behind those comments (they inwardly scare and piss her off)

he also had the upperclassman advantages to openly talk to her very casually and harp on her (on the other hand, Akashi was a year younger than her), so he very much does every thing to get under her skin and rile her up

she employs a more sarcastic persona to match up with Imayoshi, but that just makes him more determine to break her facades; in the end, to keep her cool, she just settled for a default polite persona while still shooting occasional flippant responses at him

TLDR; this guy has the same hobby as she does in getting reactions out of people to study them, except Imayoshi is an actual psychic in deciphering people out; perhaps he’s even better at these things than her

Momoi unintentionally helps her out by always telling Imayoshi to “stop bothering her so much,” and all he does is a mock-surrender, replying cheerfully that it was all in good fun

he definitely makes her job harder by trying to be a smartass when she gives him instructions and lists in how to improve his mental acuity; she quickly shuts his attempts down, and he always calls her an “absolute killjoy”

while she knows it’s beneficial to observe an individual who has a similar hobby like herself to see and compare the similarities/differences, Imayoshi makes it really difficult because his keen senses plus her huge presence makes him able to pick her out most of the time

                     *she’s only able to safely observe him when he’s on the courts

                     *other times, she dutifully avoids him unless when she’s doing her job

are they friends? it’s hard to say; they act like they’re familiar with each other but it’s a love-hate relationship // she respects his intuition but she frowns on his personality (it’s the fact that he acts like he knows everything and she knows he also puts up a few “nice guy” facades of his own)

he’s probably the first guy to actually break through her personas completely and get her to snap and yell at him unabashedly one evening when they were walking to a nearby convenience store because he was tagging along (Momoi was with Aomine at the time)

                     *at that moment, she probably also gave Imayoshi a shock for his life for the first time outside of the games

                     *she coughed and went back to her polite persona like nothing happened and that just made him so much more amused

they’re frenemies and rivals, trying to outdo the other in poking each other mentally and out-acting the other

Sakurai: (present)

first impressions of this kid: she pities him a lot

sometimes, she says various things to see if he‘ll apologize just to see which trigger words get him in a sweat to say “sorry”

she’ll either be a *gentler* polite person or take on a more stern/serious side (used with Midorima and sometimes Murasakibara); the latter would be used to try to toughen the poor guy up mentally

increasing Sakurai’s cognitive acuity would be the most difficult considering the fact that (combined with Momoi’s data) there’s a direct relationship between his physical and mental stamina; if he’s extremely exhausted, his mental sharpness declines dramatically along with it

he’s not considered the sharpest tool in the shed, and his naiveté tends to show when he asks innocent questions about her and her life, and one day, this guy accidentally hit the nail on the head when he asked about her family out of curiosity, which was her touchiest subject

                     *she did have a moment of shock and took some time to recollect herself and deflect the subject elsewhere, but Sakurai picked her hesitance up as a sign of offense and spewed a plethora of apologies (to which she had to calm the boy down)

                     *from that point on, although still curious, he became a lot more observant and cautious of how she acts around other people (at first he was watching so he can learn how to not offend her and overstep his boundaries)

as time progresses (especially after their loss at the winter cup), and the more Sakurai just asks her about many things, she does loosen up around him; he does eventually bring up the topic of family (not necessarily hers, but his own) to try to encourage her to talk about her own

Sakurai would be the type of person to be uncharacteristically determined and blunt in particular situations with people whom he considers his friends: here, he would confront her and asked if she was alright and if things were going okay at home

                     *out of curiosity in where he got that confidence boost and respect for him being mentally stronger, she does open up slowly one topic/talk at a time spread out for the next few weeks

both of their different curiosities for each other would lead to them being close friends ´･ᴗ･` (she makes him a more self-assured person and he gives her time to be her true self [or at least develop one], and other than annoying her with his occasional sorry’s, he doesn’t overwhelm her with his presence)

[dahlia-coccinea]

Wuthering Heights - Chapter 3

This is a somewhat difficult chapter to discuss fully in a single post. It introduces so many important themes and has the first glimpse of the story of the earlier inhabitants of the Heights. Sorry if this is too long - I've tried to keep my comments concise. It is difficult for me to not mention every tiny detail I like lol 

We learn that Zillah has worked at the house a year or two and is aware that Catherine’s old room is off-limits but seems to know little else. It shows that despite the emotional unloading that Heathcliff does to Nelly he is very reserved about all that has happened in the past. 

It seems the house has been ruled by chaos for years and there is an instinctual need for the inhabits to defend themselves against it. We see this when Lockwood first climbs into the box bed and closes the doors he says he “felt secure against the vigilance of Heathcliff, and every one else.” The need to shut out the world and crawling into small spaces is repeated later in this chapter with Catherine's diary details how, with Heathcliff, in an attempt to avoid the cruelty of Hindley and Frances “made ourselves as snug as our means allowed in the arch of the dresser,” and closed off the world by fastening their pinafores together. 

We get some other interesting glimpses of Catherine and Heathcliff early friendship. It is quite popular to say that Heathcliff is Catherine’s whip and he is a blank slate for her, but I think this diary entry is another example of their oddly egalitarian relationship. First, we have this scene of Catherine lashing out against their ill-treatment:

I took my dingy volume by the scroop, and hurled it into the dog-kennel, vowing I hated a good book. Heathcliff kicked his to the same place. Then there was a hubbub! 

That Heathcliff swiftly follows her lead certainly shows a reciprocation of the other’s attitude and worldview - or simply that if one is going to get in trouble then the other will follow suit. Still, I do hold that he doesn’t just mimic her or do as she wishes. We get a number of examples that show neither play a clear leader in their antics with one happening shortly after this incident. Catherine's diary continues: 

I have got the time on with writing for twenty minutes; but my companion is impatient, and proposes that we should appropriate the dairywoman’s cloak, and have a scamper on the moors, under its shelter. A pleasant suggestion—and then, if the surly old man come in, he may believe his prophecy verified—we cannot be damper, or colder, in the rain than we are here.

Here Heathcliff takes the lead in coming up with more plans to get further into trouble and it seems Catherine is more than pleased to go along with it. 

There are other, now iconic, details of Catherine’s character in this chapter. Such as this description of the box bed from Lockwood:

The ledge, where I placed my candle, had a few mildewed books piled up in one corner; and it was covered with writing scratched on the paint. This writing, however, was nothing but a name repeated in all kinds of characters, large and small—Catherine Earnshaw, here and there varied to Catherine Heathcliff, and then again to Catherine Linton.

And later:

Catherine’s library was select, and its state of dilapidation proved it to have been well used, though not altogether for a legitimate purpose: scarcely one chapter had escaped a pen-and-ink commentary—at least the appearance of one—covering every morsel of blank that the printer had left. Some were detached sentences; other parts took the form of a regular diary, scrawled in an unformed, childish hand. At the top of an extra page (quite a treasure, probably, when first lighted on) I was greatly amused to behold an excellent caricature of my friend Joseph,—rudely, yet powerfully sketched. An immediate interest kindled within me for the unknown Catherine, and I began forthwith to decipher her faded hieroglyphics.

Catherine holed up in the box bed and writing on every spare bit of paper she can get her hands on and scratching her name in the paint, tell of someone who has no one to talk to. She’s alone and is compelled to at least make sense of herself with ink and paper. Nelly does say later on that “there was not a soul else that she might fashion into an adviser” beside Nelly herself. Which is a poor adviser, considering how Nelly disliked her throughout her childhood. 

Adding to Catherine’s loneliness is the endless abuse of Heathcliff and herself, at the hands of seemingly everyone in the house. In this short excerpt from her diary, we are told Hindley’s treatment of Heathcliff is “atrocious,” and that now he is the new master they are no longer allowed to play, and “a mere titter is sufficient to send us into corners.” Heathcliff has his hair pulled by Frances, Catherine’s ears are boxed by Joseph and they’re both berated and verbally punished by him. Finally Hindley “seizing one of us by the collar, and the other by the arm, hurled both into the back-kitchen” where she says that outside on the moors “cannot be damper, or colder.” Upon their return and proceeding punishment she says she’s cried until her head ached. Consistent with what we later hear her tell Nelly, that Heathcliff’s miseries are her own, it is not her punishment or ill-treatment that makes her so upset but the casting out of Heathcliff. She writes: 

“Poor Heathcliff! Hindley calls him a vagabond, and won’t let him sit with us, nor eat with us any more; and, he says, he and I must not play together, and threatens to turn him out of the house if we break his orders. He has been blaming our father (how dared he?) for treating H. too liberally; and swears he will reduce him to his right place—”

Critics that suggest Catherine is glassy-eyed and naive idealist really gloss over these excerpts in my opinion. There is a constant downplaying of her abuse compared to the other characters among those that seemingly think she’s the only character with moral agency and therefore the cause of all problems in the story. 

I love how strange the encounter that Lockwood has with the book “Seventy Times Seven, and the First of the Seventy-First,” and the following dream is when first reading Wuthering Heights. Hardly anything in WH is superfluous and when rereading it this makes much more sense. This is quite an interesting segue into meeting Catherine’s ghost, and later learning more of her life. Forgiveness is such an important aspect in the book and will come up many times. Notably, while on her deathbed, Catherine tells Heathcliff she has forgiven him and that he should forgive her. 

I think it is amusing and also very interesting how in Lockwood’s dream he’s walking with Joseph (in itself is very metaphorical) and Joseph tells him he should have brought a “pilgrim’s staff” and that Joseph’s staff is really just a “heavy-headed cudgel.”

It’s unsurprising the appearance of Catherine’s ghost is so iconic. It’s impossible to discern if it is merely Lockwood’s dream or him actually encountering her spirit. There are details about her that Lockwood, at this point, does not yet know. Still, he does make many attempts to logically explain what happens. Either way, the imagery of the scene is both frightening and tragic. 

We get some really interesting glimpses of Heathcliff’s character in this scene. Normally he is very collected and if his emotions are out of control they tend towards anger, but here we see him truly terrified and unable to maintain composure after finding Lockwood in the room.

Heathcliff stood near the entrance, in his shirt and trousers; with a candle dripping over his fingers, and his face as white as the wall behind him. The first creak of the oak startled him like an electric shock: the light leaped from his hold to a distance of some feet, and his agitation was so extreme, that he could hardly pick it up.

Even after Lockwood identifies himself Heathcliff is said to have found it “impossible to hold it [the candle] steady” and was “crushing his nails into his palms, and grinding his teeth to subdue the maxillary convulsions.” It is interesting that Heathcliff doesn’t become so angry that he throws Lockwood out. It’s another oddly humanizing moment for him. An overly dramatic author would likely have him behave like a complete monster, but he instead tells him to finish the night there and not to scream like that again. This is a scene that I wish we could have some perspective from Heathcliff. Not only is he startled by a noise coming from Catherine’s old room but then Lockwood adds to his distress by rambling about Catherine saying:

And that minx, Catherine Linton, or Earnshaw, or however she was called—she must have been a changeling—wicked little soul! She told me she had been walking the earth these twenty years: a just punishment for her mortal transgressions, I’ve no doubt!

This and Lockwood’s further talk which makes it apparent he has snooped and glimpsed a little bit of Catherine’s and Heathcliff’s past, does set Heathcliff off: 

“What can you mean by talking in this way to me!” thundered Heathcliff with savage vehemence. “How—how dare you, under my roof?—God! he’s mad to speak so!” And he struck his forehead with rage.

Lockwood doesn’t quite understand this reaction saying:

I did not know whether to resent this language or pursue my explanation; but he seemed so powerfully affected that I took pity and proceeded with my dreams; affirming I had never heard the appellation of “Catherine Linton” before, but reading it often over produced an impression which personified itself when I had no longer my imagination under control. Heathcliff gradually fell back into the shelter of the bed, as I spoke; finally sitting down almost concealed behind it. I guessed, however, by his irregular and intercepted breathing, that he struggled to vanquish an excess of violent emotion. 

And later when watching Heathcliff call for Cathy through the window:

There was such anguish in the gush of grief that accompanied this raving, that my compassion made me overlook its folly, and I drew off, half angry to have listened at all, and vexed at having related my ridiculous nightmare, since it produced that agony; though why was beyond my comprehension. 

At one point Lockwood also believes Heathcliff to be “dashing a tear from his eyes” during their conversation. Of course, he is confused because he doesn’t know that one of Heathcliff’s few fixations has been looking for signs of Catherine for the last 17ish years. 

I’ve mentioned this before, but something that doesn’t happen in the book because Heathcliff never narrates it, but I think if someone retold the story or made a film adaptation it could be interesting to explore, is how Heathcliff came to find Catherine’s writing on the wall. She must have written it shortly before she talks to Nelly since she’s already considering marrying Linton, and Heathcliff must still be living at the Heights since his name is there also. When Heathcliff returns three years later we know that he takes over Catherine’s old room so really he should have discovered it the first night there, probably after having visited the Grange. 

@astrangechoiceoffavourites has mentioned this in one their posts, but another great aspect of the book is the background happenings that are very realistic for the time and particularly farm life. Cats and dogs roam about, Heathcliff mentions that the house goes to bed at “nine in winter, and rise at four,” and there are mentions of chores, etc. The details create a realistic backdrop and ground the characters in reality. I feel like the novel is never overly sentimental because of this and it really strengthens it. 

After Heathcliff comes down to the kitchen where the household is starting their day, we are instantly reminded how terrible Heathcliff can be when he swears at and threatens to hit Cathy for not making herself useful and working for her keep. Ironically, he tells her, “You shall pay me for the plague of having you eternally in my sight,” when, as I’ve mentioned before he has her sit at the dining table with everyone else. He also could just send her away if he despises her so much. 

I see a lot of similarity between the glimpse we get of Catherine Earnshaw from her diary and the current situation Cathy Heathcliff is in. Their situations are certainly different but both are in a similar state of abuse and neglect and both are quite self-possessed and antagonistic towards those that try to control them. They also are associated with books (Catherine filling them up with writing and Cathy reading) and have an affinity for animals. In this chapter it is mentioned that while Cathy is reading she has “to push away a dog, now and then, that snoozled its nose overforwardly into her face.” There are other similar encounters, such as when the dogs at the Heights come to greet Catherine Earnshaw upon her return from the Lintons. 

I’m sure I’m forgetting points I want to make in these posts. I’ll probably to a larger summary after I complete the book and try to tie together some of the ideas I’ve mentioned. Its also difficult because I keep wanting to bring up things that happen later in the book and I want to make a note of it now - but I’m also trying to reread as impartially as possible. Which is really an impossible task lol. 

@astrangechoiceoffavourites

[orwocolor]

Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Gwilym shows up in your bookstore to apologise but there still might be more obstacles on your way to happiness.

Author’s Note: And another sprinkle of angst so that chapter six doesn’t feel so lonely. Only one more chapter and an epilogue remain, so keep an eye out for those! Comments and reblogs are always very appreciated :) Check my masterlist to read the previous chapters. Dedicated to my sweetie @justgwilym​.

Dragging your feet, you crash on your sofa, a floral pattern of one of the walls spinning around you. You squeeze your eyes shut, but as you lose the point of focus, you sense a rise of, so far, the most powerful wave of nausea. You fight the feeling and instead fix your gaze on one of the paintings decorating the living room.

Breathe in.

And breathe out.

You should not have drunk that much. But Jane and Charlotte were unstoppable and admittedly, you needed it. After a couple of drinks, you actually started having fun. Daniel turned out to be a very pleasant companion with a taste for slightly dry humour that, partially due to your inebriated state, made you burst in laughter multiple times during the party.

Oh god, you are going to hate yourself so much tomorrow.

Once it seems the whole world will not tilt again and toss you on your side, you brave a few steps into the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water. Gulping it down, you can already feel its beneficial effects, which are further enhanced when you press the cold glass against your forehead. You serve yourself another drink and with each sip, you begin to trust your legs again.

You release a content sigh as a soft breeze and smell of rain touch your cheeks when you open the windows; it truly does a world of good. Grabbing yourself two slices of toast bread, you settle onto the sofa, open your laptop and click on a random video for you to watch while you wait to get better before you go to bed. If you lay down right now, you’re sure you would throw up.

With an occasional chuckle leaving your lips as you listen rather than watch a stand-up show, you almost miss a soft, hesitant knock on your door. Almost. Your fingers hover above the keyboard as you contemplate pausing the video. If you press the space key right now, there will be no doubt you’ve heard the knocking.

Slowly retracting your hand back to your side, you let the comedian continue in her sketch and you just wait. It probably takes only a minute, but for you, it’s an eternity before you can hear Gwil shut the door to his flat behind him.

You release a breath you have not realised you were holding and hide your face in your palms.

You are not in a state to face him right now. You need some time. And most importantly, you need to put some space between you, otherwise you’re going to care way too much, and you are not in the position of allowing yourself feelings of that sort.

~

“I’m sorry, sir, I’ll be back in a minute, just let me attend to this young lady,” you throw behind your shoulder as you rush to the cash desk and leave a customer in the historical section.

“Maybe I can be of service,” Mr Dean appears next to the customer’s shoulder, who jumps a bit, not expecting someone else, and you send a grateful glance to your friend. You knew you could count on him. Whenever he’s in a good mood, he loves to entertain people in the bookshop and no matter the topic or genre they’re looking for, he turns into an expert, gladly offering recommendations.

You hide a smile when you notice Mr Dean’s eyes sparkling as the man mentions the French revolution and he starts guiding him to the needed section.

“Here you go,” you hand the young woman her bag and say your goodbyes, a shrilling sound of chimes hanging at the entrance door announcing her departure.

While you bend down and disappear behind the till to throw away the receipt the woman didn’t want, the chimes sound again, and you emerge from behind the cash desk.

No.

He’s there, right in front of you, the surprise written in his face matching yours.

“Hello,” Gwil says softly and for a split of a second, you forget to breathe.

You’ve managed to avoid him the whole weekend by some miracle, although, admittedly, on one occasion, when you were forced out of your flat to do grocery shopping, you spotted him at the entrance door when you made a turn to your street. At that moment, you remembered you wanted to check something on your phone, and after fiddling with it long enough for Gwil to get home, you plucked up the courage to do the same.

You assured yourself you just needed some time and space and by the time you would meet him, you would have known what to tell him.

Well, your past self can go screw herself because here you are with your tongue tied.

“Hi, Y/N!” Ben is on Gwil’s tail and greets you cheerfully, his hand raised in a wave.

“Hi,” you manage to blurt out, quite happy with yourself for not butchering the single syllable. It’s all about little victories, right?

“So, uh, I’ll go check some books I guess,” Ben breaks the silence when neither you nor Gwil seems to do so, and scurries farther into the store.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N,” Gwil eventually breathes out and raises his lowered eyes. “I wish I could have a good reason for not showing up the other day and for copping out on you like that, but I just don’t. I…”

He looks around and bites his lips, looking for a way of how to finish his sentence in books-filled shelves.

You wait patiently because you have the feeling that there is something he needs to say, and it would be ill-advised to interrupt his thoughts.

“Okay, I’m probably already not in your good books, so why not make even a bigger twat of myself, eh.”

“Ha, in the good books. Get it? You’re in a bookshop,” you chuckle, your voice not as strong as you would like it to be.

“Yeah,” he replies, and the corners of his lips rise up slightly. Soon, his voice turns serious again. “Well, I went to that stupid audition and I just fucked it up. Yeah, there’s no better word for that. I fucked it up, big time. I tried to persuade them to give me another chance, I said I would do anything, and the production assistant surprised me. She promised me another audition if I went for a drink with her afterwards, and I… didn’t refuse.” He takes a deep, shaky breath, presumably the first one since he started explaining what had happened. “I wasn’t thinking, and when I realised I was supposed to be with you, it was too late.”

“You could have called me,” you say slowly, daring to meet his gaze.

“My phone was dead. I was fiddling with it so much while I was waiting for the audition. Was driving Ben absolutely crazy.”

“Can confirm!” Ben’s head peeps out from behind a shelf and quickly hides again when he spots both your and Gwil’s not so amused expressions.

“Still,” you start and shake away the trembling feeling that is creeping to your voice, “You could have come by later and explain all of that to me that night.”

By some miracle, it’s as if he senses the direction of your thoughts, and rushes to set the record straight, offering the absolution you haven’t, until now, realised you desperately craved.

“The moment it dawned on me what a jerk I was, I said my goodbyes and left. But it was too late, and I felt like such a prick, so I actually dropped in another pub and drank some more. Was so shit-faced I stayed at my brother’s ‘cause he lives in that area.”

A great weight is lifted from your shoulders and you can finally take a deep and long breath. You feel a smile tugging at the corners of your lips but Gwilym does not see it; he is avoiding your eyes, as mortification keeps surrounding his whole person.

“I am so, so sorry,” he repeats once again and the moment the words leave his lips, you forgive him.

Actually, you already have.

You are just about to tell him so when he finally finds the courage to look into your eyes as he reaches out and gently grasps your hands that have been resting on the counter.

“Please, can you forgive me?”

His thumbs are lightly stroking your skin and you cannot tear away your gaze from his beautiful blue eyes.

“Sir, I must ask you to leave right now!”

Wait, what?

It takes you a moment to become aware of where you are and what is happening. The bookshop, right. And as for what is going on…

“Sir, I won’t repeat myself, leave this building immediately!” Peter’s voice reaches such volume that every customer stops in their tracks, their curiosity taking the better of themselves.  

“I was only showing this young lad the historic section. I don’t reckon it’s a crime,” Mr Dean responds in his defence, which only infuriates Peter some more.

“You’re always just helping other customers, or browsing, or, God forbid, reading our books without paying a single penny for them. I want you gone. This is not a library!”

“Peter,” you say weakly, not capable of wrapping your head around it. He isn’t supposed to be here, otherwise you would have warned Mr Dean beforehand.

“Is that the Mr Dean you told me about?” Gwil whispers and it is only then when you notice your hands are still placed in his and his face is much closer to yours than you remember.

“Yes, I’m–” you start but Gwilym won’t let you finish the sentence.

“Trust me, darling. I’ll stop by at your place at around seven, okay?” he hastily says and places a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving you at the till dumbfounded.

“Grandpa!” he greets joyfully and rushes to Mr Dean to give him a proper hug. “Have you found the book you told me about?”

Mr Dean shoots a glance your way before he replies. “Ah, I… Yes. Yes, yes, I did, give me a second.” You’re taken aback by his quick reaction because you have not moved from your spot, your jaw down, and you are pretty sure your arms are still stretched in front of you although Gwilym’s warm palms are no longer holding them. You fix your posture in an instant and clear your throat, at least trying to give the impression of having everything under control.

Although you are not particularly proud of yourself, you’re still doing better than Peter. He is just standing there, opening his mouth like fish as no words are leaving his lips.

Gwilym pretends he has only just noticed him and raises his eyebrows in make-believe innocence. “Is there any problem here?”

It takes a couple of moments before Peter gathers his bearings.

“I’m sorry, but this is your grandfather?” he finally finds his voice and points an accusatory finger at your dear friend.

“Yeah! He’s been wearing my ear off about this wonderful book he discovered here, so I’m here to get it for him. For his birthday, you know? Which is coming soon, isn’t that right, grandpa?”

“In a couple of days, actually,” Mr Dean confirms and nods his head seriously as if contemplating the fleetingness of time and existence.

“Urgh, I’m the worst grandson ever, really, looking for gifts this late, I should be ashamed of myself.” You are fascinated by Gwil’s acting; he doesn’t miss a beat and comes up with lies so quickly, all you can do is stare in astonishment. It’s not like anyone needs you right now because all customers are watching the scene unfold.

“Ah, got it!” The victorious announcement of Mr Dean makes Gwil turn on his heel and leave Peter behind.

“Wow, that’s really pretty! You weren’t lying about the photographs.” Gwil expertly inspects the pictures of various relics and nods, approvement and appreciation readable from his pursed lips. “Excellent! We’ll take it.” He closes the book in one swift motion and heads to your cash desk.

By this time, you have composed yourself enough to remember all the common niceties, and you are quite proud of your performance as you easily scan the book that you’ve seen cradled in Mr Dean’s palms many afternoons and punch the price into the card reader so that Gwil can pay.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” you do not forget to ask and when your gaze meets Gwil, your heart starts beating so fast you almost can’t hear the answer.

“Oh yes, please, that is if we’re not bothering you.” Gwil’s smile lights up his whole face.

“No bother at all,” the corners of your lips rise in a matching smile and you procced to neatly wrap the book in a piece of brown paper, taking extra care to tie a dark blue ribbon around the package.

“Thank you so much, have a lovely day!” Gwilym places the book under his arm and leaves the shop, Mr Dean on his tail offers a wave and a wink that, hopefully, Peter cannot see.

Through the display window, you almost miss Gwil turning around and mouthing ‘see you tonight’ before he and Mr Dean disappear behind the corner. You almost burst into laughter when Ben suddenly emerges from behind the bookshelves and dashes after them.

You have got the feeling that Peter is mumbling something, but all you can think about is your lovely neighbour and the kiss he ever so gently placed on your cheek.

You resist the temptation to touch your face, wondering whether the imprint of Gwil’s lips can be found there, or whether the gesture is forever inscribed into your mind only.

But then, you finally register Peter’s words...

“I can’t believe it! And of all days he’s got to pick today and embarrass me in front of the buyers. God damn it!”

… and your smile freezes.

~

Buyers.

The sequence of syllables still sounds foreign and dangerous to your ears.

Buyers.

No matter how many times it rolls off your tongue, the word remains the same.

So that’s it. Peter’s made up his mind and he is going to sell the bookshop. And that leaves so many questions unanswered. The new owners, are they going to keep the staff, or do they plan to hire a new bunch of people? Is there even some certainty that they will not rebrand and establish a branch of a fast-food chain? It’s not like the city is flooded with them, right.

You feel the dizziness creeping up your neck as those thoughts swirl in your head, not permitting you a moment of peace. You almost crash into a passer-by, but thankfully you manage to keep yourself upright and the take-out bag with your late lunch intact in your hold.

Once you finally arrive home, you heat up the food you have brought with you and open your favourite book in a desperate attempt to diverge the direction of your thoughts.

You are torn between biting your nails from the uncertainty of your future career and halting in the story and daydreaming about Gwilym’s visit tonight. And with that mindset, you go about your day while you clean up, water plants, and dust your flat; you have been putting it off for ages.

Emerged in thoughts, you almost mishear the buzzing sound of the bell. You are wearing baggy trousers and an old t-shirt with stains God-knows from what. You have reckoned you’ve still got time to change before Gwil’s visit. Oh well, he has seen you at your worse.

However, your brows furrow as you step into the hall and catch a glimpse of the digital clock.

5.40 p.m.

Swinging the door open, you are met with no one. Another sound of the bell and the line on your forehead deepens.

“Hello,” you mutter when you press the intercom, and the static comes through.

“Y/N! Hi! Ready to go out and grab coffee with me?”

It takes a moment before the dots connect.

“Oh, Daniel, hi! I… erm… can you give me ten minutes?”

“Sure thing!”

The dash across your flat, from the door to the dresser, then to the bathroom and back to the hall could be considered a match to any Olympian’s winning sprint race, but it is too early after your accident and your ankle makes itself known. You grit your teeth and grab a purse, leaving your flat and hoping no appliances have stayed turned on.

How could you have forgotten?! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Hi!” you greet breathlessly when you fly from the entrance door, and Daniel gives you a lopsided smile.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” No matter how hard you try not to give anything away, the blush on your cheeks betrays you. “Oh my God, you did!” Barking out a laugh, he lets you take a couple of deep breaths before you start walking down the street. “Maybe it should be you who’s gonna buy the coffee today.”

“Gladly,” you smile and spot a cosy café. For a split second, you consider taking him to Hazel’s, but then you imagine the soft hues of brown and gold against black and white background of your most beloved café. Your mind goes straight to the day you bumped into Gwil and Ben in there and you do not wish to stain that memory. Besides, this café is right behind the corner of your block of flats, which means you shouldn’t get stuck at some far-off place. “Actually, I owe you ‘cos I’ve got some plans at seven and I need to get home by then.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies hesitantly, and you bite your lips, feeling like an arse. Well, you can make it up for him by paying for the coffee, right?

~

You are trying. You are really, truly trying. Daniel is nice. Funny, smart, and knows all the iconic movie lines off pat, however, the moment you look into his eyes, you feel nothing, there is no bated breath, no heart beating fast. Nothing. And honestly, it seems you are not making a particularly good impression either. He takes notice of your constant checking the time on your phone, and when you catch yourself doing it for an umpteenth time, you roll your eyes at yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter after a moment of silence, which you wish were a companionable one, but you are too fidgety.

“It’s fine, I get it,” Dan offers a sheepish smile, which you return. “Let’s get you back home, okay?”

The wind is chilling and light drizzle lands on your hair. As you walk down the street, you notice that Daniel is trying to gently hold your hand. It starts with your fingers brushing and you would dismiss it as an accidental touch but when his fingertips graze the back of your palm, you sense the intention in the gesture. You bring your hand up, brushing off a damp strand of hair and scratching the back of your neck so as not to give him another opportunity for touch.

Hoping this debacle is behind you now, you say your goodbyes and grab the door handle to your building. Oh, how foolish!

“I know you’re lost in thought today but it was a nice date and honestly, I’m not ready for it to end.” He gives you a smile and his eyes sparkle when you stop in your tracks and turn your head to face him.

His gaze drops down to your lips and you are (literally) taken aback by the movement to such extent that your body shoots away. In the process, you press your back to the doorbell panel and jump a bit, not expecting that kind of contact.

“Careful.” Daniel’s fingers find your waist to keep you upright. “I realise I might not be the man of your dreams, but I hope we can go for dinner next time.”

“I…” you start, unable to find the words that would not hurt him.

“No, don’t say anything,” he whispers, and it is only then when you realise his face has inched closer to yours. And then he presses his lips to yours, and you freeze at the spot.

Your eyelids do not tremble with emotion, neither do you melt into his touch. You just stand there, barely moving your lips and thinking that this guy just cannot take a hint. You might have been waving the ‘I am not interested’ flag right in front of his face and he still would be none the wiser.

When he finally lets go, your gaze is still fixed forward and you suck in your lips in a subconscious effort to prevent him from another attempt of a kiss. However, you catch a flicker of light in the corner of your eyes and without giving it a second thought you twist your neck, and your gaze falls into the entrance hall. The windowpane which reflected two figures kissing a moment ago turns transparent and reveals a figure standing inside.

He’s there, at the top of the staircase, taking you by surprise for a second time this day.

But this time, his eyes are hurt behind his glasses, a deep line is forming on his forehead, and it seems as if he’s rooted to the cold stone floor. Your heart is breaking at the sight of him and you know you must do anything within your power to atone for this moment because you never ever want to see such pain written in his face.

“Gwil,” you breathe out softly and bend down to escape Daniel’s embrace. Pushing the main door, you rush to your neighbour, your friend, your… “Gwil, this means nothing, I’m not –”

“My doorbell rang, and I was foolish enough to think you couldn’t wait until seven. I…” He is avoiding your gaze, his eyes roving round the hall. He brings his hands to his sides, but quickly finds out there are no pockets in his soft camel pleated trousers and so he clasps them together. When he bites his trembling lips, it is almost unbearable to keep your eyes on him, but you cannot look away either.

Then, his features harden, and it is probably worse than before as your stomach tightens.

“Goodbye.”

You almost miss the sound, his voice barely above a whisper. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks, but Gwilym is already gone, his moccasins tapping against the cold tiles of the stairs. You fight the urge to wrap your arms around yourself and have a breakdown right here and now. All you do is simply turn around, every movement calculated so as not to make an unnecessary one. Daniel is still standing at the entrance, his eyebrows raised in the piqued curiosity of what has just occurred.

“I can’t go for another date with you. I’m sorry.”

But you don’t feel sorry at all, well, not sorry for him at least. Your thoughts have turned into a tangled ball of turmoil and indescribable emotions, which are hard to make sense of.

When you reach your floor, you stop in your tracks to your flat. You have thought you lost all the courage, but you muster some from deep inside and cross the hall to knock on his door with determination.

God knows how long you are standing there, you knock again, and again.

Nothing.

Not even a sign of hope.

Your heart skips a beat when you finally hear the creak of a door being open, but a lump forms in your throat instead when it dawns on you that it is not Gwil’s door but Mrs Thompson’s.

“Hello Mrs Thompson,” you greet meekly the slightly open door of the 3A flat and drag your feet to your home.

You do not bother taking off your shoes or clothes. Crushing straight into your bed, you finally give yourself the permission to let your emotions flow and cry yourself to sleep.

~

Taglist: @lv7867​, @spacedustmazzello​, @queenwouldyourathers​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @fairestkillerqueenofall​, @supernaturalee​, @queenlover05​, @geek-and-proud​, @chlobo6​, @mrsmazzello​, @timeandpixiedust​, @kerouacsroad​, @gwilsmainhoe​​

[trikxx]

I try to put a lil something before the chapter cause thats what I usually do but I can think if anything😀 on to the story.

Songs for this chapter ⬇️

•shame by summer walker

•if you let me by sinead harlett

Armoni's pov

I got up early cause I didn't want y/n to kill Shinsou for letting me drive. I have my permit and all but I still have to take my drivers test... again. Y/n doesn't trust me with the car but shes gonna have to give in soonnn.

I go into the living room and they not there anymore

So I go to Shinsou's room to get him. "SURPISE SHAW.." He wasn't in there. The last place he could be thats inside the house is y/n's room. 'God please let me going here and know that nothing happened last night even though I want a niece not yettt' I think in my head while putting my hands together.

I slowly opened the door. 'please please pleaseee' I slowly open my eyes and they are fully clothed and only facing each other "THANK THE GODS!" I accidentally yell out waking up Shinsou.

"Wtffff Armoni."

"Damn, what happened to hey, hello, good morning." I say. "Waiting in living room ill be ready in a little bit.

Shinsou's pov

I slowly slip out of y/n's bed and go to my own room and hop in the shower, brush my teeth, fix my hair and get dressed. After I finished I grabbed my keys and put on my shoes. "Lets go." I say to Armoni

"I would have let you drive y/n's truck but you know how she is." I say "Yea i know" Armoni said adjusting the seat. "Check it out so I have a automatic so you dont have to worry about all that fancy stick shift shit you thought was finna happen when you got in. Nope." I explained to Armoni everything he needed to know. "No music til you drive a mile" I say. Armoni pulled out the parking spot and out he garage and started driving.

"Damn you actually drive good." I say to Armoni. "I know its just my sister." We started driving toward y/n's parents house to take Armoni home and so I could make it back home so me and y/n could go to Sero's shop.

~Time skip~

Y/n's pov

I wake up and get in the shower not really acknowledging the fact that Shinsou and Armoni were gone out the house. The quiet was nice. I stepped and wrapped a towel around my body and staring to brush my teeth. I heard the front door open. I walk out my bathroom into my room to peek out the door.

"Oh your woke now?." Shinsou says. I tolled my eyes and  closed my door back to get dressed.

Your outfit

I did my hair the same way I did it last night then grabbed my wallet and keys and walked out the room "We taking your car?" I ask Shinsou. "Yea." He responds. I out on my shoes and we walk out the door.

~Time skip~

We pulled up to a tattoo shop that had a sign that said '4RT' "You ready?" Shinsou said. "Wait they open?" I say. The shop looked like no one was there even though there was four cars outside besides ours.

"Naw they not open." Shinsou said side eyeing me. I rolled my eyes and got out the and Shinsou did the same.

We entered the shop and heard low music playing. "Yoooo Shinsou!" I heard Sero yell from down the hallway. "Is that the beautiful y/n?" Denki said following behind Sero. Shinsou side eyes Denki and Denki puts his hands up like this '✋🏽😐🤚🏽'

"What tats do yall want?" Sero asks. "Ima get this." Shinsou says showing Sero the picture.

(This is the only one I could find that I liked Pinterest did me wrong yall ✋🏽��� ill edit it if i find sum different;-;)

"Still a minimalist I see." Sero says joking around. "And you?" Sero resumes pointing to me. "Oh I was thinking something like this."

"Thats niceee." Sero says. "Ok I'll do y/n and you can get Shinsou." Sero says to Denki. Denki nods and leads Shinsou to his area and I got Sero's. "This your first tat or nah?" He asks. "Nah." I says showing him the dragon tattoo behind my ear that goes on to my shoulder. "Thats dope as fuck." Sero says starting the sketch for your tattoo.

(Idk how this works🧍🏽‍♀️)

~Time skip~

Third pov

Sero finished the sketch and started apply the stencil (yall know the little thing they put on the you before they actually tattoo..yea that.)

Sero turned on some music (the song at the top played first) and started tattooing. At first it hurt but soon you got use to it. "You ok?" Sero asked. "Yea." You say looking back at you phone.

~Time skip~

You here the door of the shop open. You saw a pink haired girl rush passed the room you and Sero were in. Eventually peeking her head in ti the room "Im here Sero they kept me late at the mall my bad... Y/N?!"

"Heyyoo." You say smiling at her. "We have to talk after your done ok?" She says. You nod your head at her and she skipped away. You lay your head back vibing to the music trying to ignore the pain.

"Ok Cool Kami.." Shinsou says walking into the room. "Y/n... holy shit." You look up at Shinsou then look down at the tattoo and back at Shinsou "what." You ask. "I should have let you pick my tattoo."

You raise your eyebrows and formed an straight like with your lips then nodded your head up and down slowly. "Im gonna wait in the lobby ok?" Shinsou says "ok." You say. Shinsou walks out the room and you look back down at you phone.

Shinsou's pov

I walk into the lobby and sit close to ok the desk and talk to Mina and Denki. "And bro she was like..." Denki was saying then pointed to where he was looking at.

'Woah' I see a girl come through the door." Hey! Welcome to Art. How may I accommodate you today." Mina days with a smile. "Hiii I had made an appointment." The girl says. "What was the name?" "Camie." She says.

"Alright, you can sit over there..." Mina said pointing over by me. "and Denki will be with you in a moment." Mina finishes. "Hey hottie whats your name." The girl says to me. "Shinsou. And yours?" I say looking at her.

"My names Camie." She says. "Hold on." She says getting up. She comes back with paper and a pen. "Camie?" Denki says to her. "Here." She whispers to me and hands me a piece of paper then follows Denki. I looked her up and down looking at her outfit. She winked at me before disappearing into the hallway. 'Damnnnnnn'

Camie's outfit

"Finally out that fucking chair got damn." Y/n says stretching while walking into the lobby.

"Thats one hell of a grin Toshi." Y/n says making the "😏" face. "Hush and let me see." I say.

Y/n's pov

I show Shinsou my tattoo. "Im just fye like that." Sero says. I chuckle and start walking to pay. But Shinsou stops me "I'll pay." He says. "But.." "unt uhn." I roll my eyes and step back.

"Alright I'll see you guys." Shinsou says walk towards the door. "Byeeee" I say going after him. "Wait!" I go back in the shop. "Heres my number Mina facetime, text, call, or what ever. And we can talk." I say writing it down. "Ok! Bye Y/n!" I wave at her walking out the door and running ti the car.

"Alright I'm ready."

~time skip~

We get back to the apartment and I flop down on my bed. "Sooo tireddd." I say. I pick up my computer and check how many orders we had 'its not that bad' i think to myself closing my computer and putting it back on my nightstand.

I walk out my room to go mess with Shinsou but when I got closer to his room he was... giggling? I held in my laughter and knocked on his door. "Yo Toshi you hungry?" I say through the door. "Yea hold on." He responds back.

20 minutes later

Shinsou's pov

"Ok what did yo..." I say. 'This mf really fell alseep in 20 minutes' I think to myself. I pick y/n up and put her in her bed.

I walk into the kitchen and ordered y/n's f/f for her and something for me.

*DING*

Camie🤍: Hey Hitoshi🤗.

Hitoshi☄️: Hey👋🏽.

Camie🤍: i wanted to know if you wanted to hang out tonight and get to know each other?

Hitoshi☄️: im cool with that but where.

Camie🤍: your place?

Hitoshi☄️: I would sag yea but we would just be in my room. I have a roommate and they get kinda rowdy.

Camie🤍: Its ok. What ever you want babes😁.

Hitoshi☄️: cool.

Hitoshi ☄️: Also eat before you come over i only provide snacks.

Camie🤍:LOL. Ok☺️.

*UBEREATS NOTIFICATION THING*

|your food for HITOSHI has been delivered|

I go out the door to get the food and come straight back to the apartment. I look through and make sure everything is there. Then I put y/n's food in the refrigerator/on the counter(depends on what you picked).

~time skip~

Camie🤍: should i park on the street?

Hitoshi ☄️: yea.

I walk downstairs to let Camie in. "Hey handsome." She said and kissed me on the cheek. We went back to the apartment and into my room. "I'll be back." I say walking out the room. "Hey Shinsou." Y/n says waving at me while walking out her room.

"Hey, Your foods in the fridge." I say. "Thank you." She says hugging me then warming up her food and going back to her room. I cut off the lights in the living room and a leave the one above the sink on. Then I go back to my room with Camie.

Y/n's pov

I go back to my room and watch tv and start packing orders. Sometimes I do orders by myself just for some me time (play if you let me by sinead harnett).

*DING*

Unknown: Y/n please I miss you so much please. Im sorry I didn't mean for it to happen please just take me back ill do better please. I still love you.

Y/n: If this is who I think it is No. cause you know what you did and it really doesn't make sense that you cant get that shit into your head stop contacting me. Im not taking you back even if its the end of the world.

Unknown: please y/n

*this number you are contacting has blocked you*

———

I finished eating and went to throw my stuff away. I got in the shower did my skincare and brushed my teeth. 'I should just chill out in my room.' I think ti myself while getting out the shower and drying off.

I put on some spandex shorts and a hoodie. The pull out my sketchbook to make more designs.

———

I've been sketching for about a hour so i go to see if Shinsou wanted to watch a movie but as I got closer to the door i hear moans getting louder. 'No, he did not.' I thought to myself. I go to the living room and just turn on the tv and watch a movie alone in the dark.

About an hour late I hear him coming out the room. "That was sooo nice." I hear a girl say. She come out of the hallway where Shinsou's room is. "Who are you?" She says.

"I'm y/n." I say. "Shinsou there's a girl out here. Maybe your roommate has her over." She says.

'Is she-' "wait whats your name?" I ask her

"Camie." She says "oh, do you know Todoroki?" I say "yes i know him." She says kind of with a attitude. "Ohhh I remember youu. Aren't you his ex." She said.

"Alright are you... hey y/n." Shinsou said. "Really Hitoshi." I say getting up. "Of all the people in the world HER." I say. "What are you talking about y/n."

"You know what im talking about Hitoshi. Or do you not remember why your own best friend broke up with her boyfriend." I say. Shinsou looked like his heart dropped to his ass.

𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

"Hey y/n its gonna be ok forget about him."Shinsou says. "Im gonna call Ace to come and get you."

Ace: Hello?

Shinsou: Hey Ace i need you to come to Y/n's house right now.

Shinsou looks at the code book you gave him for emergencies like this.

"Code...uhhh pink no wait its a purple"

Ace: Im on my way right now.

Y/n's pov

"Two years down the fucking drain for what!" i yell as Ace comforted me. "N/n you have to calm down a little." Ace says. i layed in my bed under my cover with my music blasting. My parents were on a business trip and my brother was at our Aunts house.

Me, Ace, and Shinsou heard someone knock on the door so I go to open it. "Y/n i'm sorry! It all happened so fast and I was drunk." Todoroki says. "DRUNK MY ASS SHOTO! YOU NEW WHAT THE FUCK YOU WERE DOING AND IT WASN'T A ACCIDENT." I say yelling. "Hey Y/n I got this go chill out." Shinsou says pulling me back.

I step back and then I look at his car and she was in there. I push both boys out the way and walk to the car. I snatched the door open and pulled her out the car. "SO YOU FUCKING LOVE ME RIGHT?! YOU WANT ME BACK HUH?! BULLSHIT SHOTO GET YOUR SHIT AND GO. IM DONE. AND AS FAR AS I KNOW ONCE YOU OUT YOU DICK IN HER WE WERE DONE SO GET YOUR SHIT AND LEAVE."

Todoroki grabbed Camie from you and got her back in the car. "Im sorry ill leave.".

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

"Damn i did it again." Camie says with a smirk on her face. "Maybe its just not meant to b..." I cut her off by gabbing her hair and slamming her on the couch.

"Say some slick shit again Camie. I fucking dare you. I will do something I didn't get to do then. Cause i dont give a fuck now. Ima let you go this is what you do to avoid getting your ass beat. Get your bag, keys, and shoes and get the fuck out this house and never come back." I say. She nods and I let her go.

Camie runs and gets her stuff and leaves the apartment. "Wtf Y/n." Shinsou says. "You know she was just gonna be a hit and kick anyway so im saving her the heartbreak." I say walking to my room. "Thats not the point y/n you didn't have to do that."

Shinsou said

"THEN WHATS THE POINT HITOSHI?!" I say. "THE POINT IS THAT YOU BROUGHT UP STUFF FROM A LONG TIME AGO." Shinsou argues back. "you know i tried to ignore the fact that you brought the girl that he cheated on me with." I say calmly. "but dont argue back. i dont want to waste your breath on this. and just to tell you ill leave for the night to give you some time to yourself." I say walking away to my room.

———

When I get into my room I feel and tear come down my face as i get out some overnight clothes. I text Mina to see if she was free.

Y/n🤍🌸: Hey Mina are you free to night

Mina🥀: Sorry babes im out with my boyfriend

——

I sighed and texted Sero

Y/n🤍🌸: Yoo Sero

Sero🤠: wsp y/n

Y/n🤍🌸: Can I crash at your place tonight? Me and Hitoshi kinda got into a fight.

Sero🤠: Sure, im still at the shop so you can come here til i close up

Y/n🤍🌸: alright cool.

——

I finished packing my bag and slip on some grey sweats and went to the door. As i was putting on my shoes Shinsou came out to the door. "You don't have to leave Y/n." He says. "Well if you dont want me to leave for then ill be leaving for myself. Ok? Cool." I says as I grab my keys off the rack and walk out the door.

👀 dont hurt me ya’ll please dont😬

[silent-era-of-cinema]

Ida Estelle Taylor (May 20, 1894 – April 15, 1958) was an American actress, singer, model, and animal rights activist. With "dark-brown, almost black hair and brown eyes," she was regarded as one of the most beautiful silent film stars of the 1920s.

After her stage debut in 1919, Taylor began appearing in small roles in World and Vitagraph films. She achieved her first notable success with While New York Sleeps (1920), in which she played three different roles, including a "vamp." She was a contract player of Fox Film Corporation and, later, Paramount Pictures, but for the majority of her career she freelanced. She became famous and was commended by critics for her portrayals of historical women in important films: Miriam in The Ten Commandments (1923), Mary, Queen of Scots in Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall (1924), and Lucrezia Borgia in Don Juan (1926).

Although she made a successful transition to sound films, she retired from film acting in 1932 and decided to focus entirely on her singing career. She was also active in animal welfare before her death from cancer in 1958. She was posthumously honored in 1960 with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in the motion pictures category.

Ida Estelle Taylor was born on May 20, 1894 in Wilmington, Delaware. Her father, Harry D. Taylor (born 1871), was born in Harrington, Delaware. Her mother, Ida LaBertha "Bertha" Barrett (November 29, 1874 – August 25, 1965), was born in Easton, Pennsylvania, and later worked as a freelance makeup artist. The Taylors had another daughter, Helen (May 19, 1898 – December 22, 1990), who also became an actress. According to the 1900 census, the family lived in a rented house at 805 Washington Street in Wilmington. In 1903, Ida LaBertha was granted a divorce from Harry on the ground of nonsupport; the following year, she married a cooper named Fred T. Krech.[9] Ida LaBertha's third husband was Harry J. Boylan, a vaudevillian.

Taylor was raised by her maternal grandparents, Charles Christopher Barrett and Ida Lauber Barrett. Charles Barrett ran a piano store in Wilmington, and Taylor studied piano. Her childhood ambition was to become a stage actress, but her grandparents initially disapproved of her theatrical aspirations. When she was ten years old she sang the role of "Buttercup" in a benefit performance of the opera H.M.S. Pinafore in Wilmington. She attended high school but dropped out because she refused to apologize after a troublesome classmate caused her to spill ink from her inkwell on the floor. In 1911, she married bank cashier Kenneth M. Peacock. The couple remained together for five years until Taylor decided to become an actress. She soon found work as an artists' model, posing for Howard Pyle, Harvey Dunn, Leslie Thrasher, and other painters and illustrators.

In April 1918, Taylor moved to New York City to study acting at the Sargent Dramatic School. She worked as a hat model for a wholesale millinery store to earn money for her tuition and living expenses. At Sargent Dramatic School, she wrote and performed one-act plays, studied voice inflection and diction, and was noticed by a singing teacher named Mr. Samoiloff who thought her voice was suitable for opera. Samoiloff gave Taylor singing lessons on a contingent basis and, within several months, recommended her to theatrical manager Henry Wilson Savage for a part in the musical Lady Billy. She auditioned for Savage and he offered her work as an understudy to the actress who had the second role in the musical. At the same time, playwright George V. Hobart offered her a role as a "comedy vamp" in his play Come-On, Charlie, and Taylor, who had no experience in stage musicals, preferred the non-musical role and accepted Hobart's offer.

Taylor made her Broadway stage début in George V. Hobart's Come-On, Charlie, which opened on April 8, 1919 at 48th Street Theatre in New York City. The story was about a shoe clerk who has a dream in which he inherits one million dollars and must make another million within six months. It was not a great success and closed after sixteen weeks. Taylor, the only person in the play who wore red beads, was praised by a New York City critic who wrote, "The only point of interest in the show was the girl with the red beads." During the play's run, producer Adolph Klauber saw Taylor's performance and said to the play's leading actress Aimee Lee Dennis: "You know, I think Miss Taylor should go into motion pictures. That's where her greatest future lies. Her dark eyes would screen excellently." Dennis told Taylor what Klauber said, and Taylor began looking for work in films. With the help of J. Gordon Edwards, she got a small role in the film A Broadway Saint (1919). She was hired by the Vitagraph Company for a role with Corinne Griffith in The Tower of Jewels (1920), and also played William Farnum's leading lady in The Adventurer (1920) for the Fox Film Corporation.

One of Taylor's early successes was in 1920 in Fox's While New York Sleeps with Marc McDermott. Charles Brabin directed the film, and Taylor and McDermott play three sets of characters in different time periods. This film was lost for decades, but has been recently discovered and screened at a film festival in Los Angeles. Her next film for Fox, Blind Wives (1920), was based on Edward Knoblock's play My Lady's Dress and reteamed her with director Brabin and co-star McDermott. William Fox then sent her to Fox Film's Hollywood studios to play a supporting role in a Tom Mix film. Just before she boarded the train for Hollywood, Brabin gave her some advice: "Don't think of supporting Mix in that play. Don't play in program pictures. Never play anything but specials. Mr. Fox is about to put on Monte Cristo. You should play the part of Mercedes. Concentrate on that role and when you get to Los Angeles, see that you play it."

Taylor traveled with her mother, her canary bird, and her bull terrier, Winkle. She was excited about playing Mercedes and reread Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo on the train. When she arrived in Hollywood, she reported to Fox Studios and introduced herself to director Emmett J. Flynn, who gave her a copy of the script, but warned her that he already had another actress in mind for the role. Flynn offered her another part in the film, but she insisted on playing Mercedes and after much conversation was cast in the role. John Gilbert played Edmond Dantès in the film, which was eventually titled Monte Cristo (1922). Taylor later said that she, "saw then that he [Gilbert] had every requisite of a splendid actor." The New York Herald critic wrote, "Miss Taylor was as effective in the revenge section of the film as she was in the first or love part of the screened play. Here is a class of face that can stand a close-up without becoming a mere speechless automaton."

Fox also cast her as Gilda Fontaine, a "vamp", in the 1922 remake of the 1915 Fox production A Fool There Was, the film that made Theda Bara a star. Robert E. Sherwood of Life magazine gave it a mixed review and observed: "Times and movies have changed materially since then [1915]. The vamp gave way to the baby vamp some years back, and the latter has now been superseded by the flapper. It was therefore a questionable move on Mr. Fox's part to produce a revised version of A Fool There Was in this advanced age." She played a Russian princess in the film Bavu (1923), a Universal Pictures production with Wallace Beery as the villain and Forrest Stanley as her leading ma

One of her most memorable roles is that of Miriam, the sister of Moses (portrayed by Theodore Roberts), in the biblical prologue of Cecil B. DeMille's The Ten Commandments (1923), one of the most successful films of the silent era. Her performance in the DeMille film was considered a great acting achievement. Taylor's younger sister, Helen, was hired by Sid Grauman to play Miriam in the Egyptian Theatre's onstage prologue to the film.

Despite being ill with arthritis, she won the supporting role of Mary, Queen of Scots in Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall (1924), starring Mary Pickford. "I've since wondered if my long illness did not, in some measure at least, make for realism in registering the suffering of the unhappy and tormented Scotch queen," she told a reporter in 1926.

She played Lucrezia Borgia in Don Juan (1926), Warner Bros.' first feature-length film with synchronized Vitaphone sound effects and musical soundtrack. The film also starred John Barrymore, Mary Astor and Warner Oland. Variety praised her characterization of Lucrezia: "The complete surprise is the performance of Estelle Taylor as Lucretia [sic] Borgia. Her Lucretia is a fine piece of work. She makes it sardonic in treatment, conveying precisely the woman Lucretia is presumed to have been."

She was to have co-starred in a film with Rudolph Valentino, but he died just before production was to begin. One of her last silent films was New York (1927), featuring Ricardo Cortez and Lois Wilson.

In 1928, she and husband Dempsey starred in a Broadway play titled The Big Fight, loosely based around Dempsey's boxing popularity, which ran for 31 performances at the Majestic Theatre.

She made a successful transition to sound films or "talkies." Her first sound film was the comical sketch Pusher in the Face (1929).

Notable sound films in which she appeared include Street Scene (1931), with Sylvia Sidney; the Academy Award for Best Picture-winning Cimarron (1931), with Richard Dix and Irene Dunne; and Call Her Savage (1932), with Clara Bow.

Taylor returned to films in 1944 with a small part in the Jean Renoir drama The Southerner (released in 1945), playing what journalist Erskine Johnson described as "a bar fly with a roving eye. There's a big brawl and she starts throwing beer bottles." Johnson was delighted with Taylor's reappearance in the film industry: "[Interviewing] Estelle was a pleasant surprise. The lady is as beautiful and as vivacious as ever, with the curves still in the right places." The Southerner was her last film.

Taylor married three times, but never had children. In 1911 at aged 17, she married a bank cashier named Kenneth Malcolm Peacock, the son of a prominent Wilmington businessman. They lived together for five years and then separated so she could pursue her acting career in New York. Taylor later claimed the marriage was annulled. In August 1924, the press mentioned Taylor's engagement to boxer and world heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey. In September, Peacock announced he would sue Taylor for divorce on the ground of desertion. He denied he would name Dempsey as co-respondent, saying "If she wants to marry Dempsey, it is all right with me." Taylor was granted a divorce from Peacock on January 9, 1925.

Taylor and Dempsey were married on February 7, 1925 at First Presbyterian Church in San Diego, California. They lived in Los Feliz, Los Angeles. Her marriage to Dempsey ended in divorce in 1931.

Her third husband was theatrical producer Paul Small. Of her last husband and their marriage, she said: "We have been friends and Paul has managed my stage career for five years, so it seemed logical that marriage should work out for us, but I'm afraid I'll have to say that the reason it has not worked out is incompatibility."

In her later years, Taylor devoted her free time to her pets and was known for her work as an animal rights activist. "Whenever the subject of compulsory rabies inoculation or vivisection came up," wrote the United Press, "Miss Taylor was always in the fore to lead the battle against the measure." She was the president and founder of the California Pet Owners' Protective League, an organization that focused on finding homes for pets to prevent them from going to local animal shelters. In 1953, Taylor was appointed to the Los Angeles City Animal Regulation Commission, which she served as vice president.

Taylor died of cancer at her home in Los Angeles on April 15, 1958, at the age of 63. The Los Angeles City Council adjourned that same day "out of respect to her memory." Ex-husband Jack Dempsey said, "I'm very sorry to hear of her death. I didn't know she was that ill. We hadn't seen each other for about 10 years. She was a wonderful person." Her funeral was held on April 17 in Pierce Bros. Hollywood Chapel. She was interred at Hollywood Forever Cemetery, then known as Hollywood Memorial Park Cemetery.

She was survived by her mother, Ida "Bertha" Barrett Boylan; her sister, Helen Taylor Clark; and a niece, Frances Iblings. She left an estate of more than $10,000, most of it to her family and $200 for the care and maintenance of her three dogs, which she left to her friend Ella Mae Abrams.

Taylor was known for her dark features and for the sensuality she brought to the films in which she appeared. Journalist Erskine Johnson considered her "the screen's No. 1 oomph girl of the 20s." For her contribution to the motion picture industry, Estelle Taylor was awarded a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 1620 Vine Street in Hollywood, California.

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #20)

01/07/88  11:56 PM

Hey.

That first night was rough.

The following six would not be much better.

Honestly, most of my time spent in the dump has excused itself from my memory, on account of being so profoundly unremarkable and entirely unpleasant. I’m pretty sure I know what I did, but a large sum of the details are basically gone. Thankfully, none of it’s all that important, but I still feel like I should write down what I can recall. It’s kind of weird -- it feels like the more I write, the more I remember. Maybe once all’s said and done, I should try keeping a journal or some corny crap like that. A real one.

‘Dunno if I could stay regular on it without the added benefit of pretending to talk to you.

Anyway. Seven-ish days, I stayed there, and each day, relations with Wreck-it stayed just as strained, clipped, and awkward as the day before. I found out on the first morning that he had a strike system in mind -- I break three rules, that’s three strikes, that’s my ass hitting the road. Of course, I found out about this shortly after making my first strike. Literally seconds into the first day. 

I hadn’t slept at all, being too sick and anxious and plagued by a snoring gorilla. So, when he woke up, before he could even stand, he was greeted by a violation of Rule #2:

“Hey, Maestro, what’s it like havin’ an entire brass section lodged in your nose?”

Then he, let’s say, ‘explained’ that I’d just struck one of three.

The second strike was not long for this world, either. Just hours later, I’d break Rule #5, completely by accident.

Business was pretty slow that day, being so early in the School Year (I heard some things here and there about so-and-so’s throwing First Day of School parties, but there was no festival this year -- not in the climate for it, I guess). Fix-it had a fair amount of free time between gamers, and made the incredibly ill-advised decision to try to talk to me. I was curled up on my pillows trying very hard to sleep when I heard him climbing up the bricks, calling out cautiously, “Mavy? Are you here?”

I didn’t say anything. I just grabbed a brick and tossed it in the direction of his voice. I then heard a yelp, a handful of Nicelander gasps, those tumbling sound effects, and that morbid little funeral drone. I didn’t expect to actually hit him, let alone K.O. him. He’s so damn easy to K.O., it’s like cracking an egg.

Regardless of it being an accident, regardless of the fact that Fix-it was assuring everyone he was fit as a fiddle seconds later, regardless of the fact that Wreck-it wasn’t even in the dump at the time, but watching from the roof of Niceland, it was a strike. So I had one left until I was out on my ass. I really had to pull it together in that regard. And I did, sort of.

I spent each day more or less the same: Looking for distractions that didn’t break any rules, puking, and trying to sleep.

I wandered around when I could. I took sporadic catnaps. I took very, very cold baths in the river, which I did not miss doing at all, but I certainly couldn’t use the showers in your game anymore. I drew sketches of the gamers’ faces as they played. I spent lots of time hugging a bucket. I very quietly played my guitar, more for the motion than the music. I snuck into the building from behind and raided apartments during gameplay, stockpiling food and water as my appetite slowly came back. It was all repetitive, futile, and not nearly enough to distract me the way I needed. I wanted buffs so, so bad. Even a drink. But for the life of me, I could not leave the game.

I tried many times, often several times in a day. I’d go stand at our dinky little train station, staring at the dinky little train I’d have to use as a newfound ground-dweller, and shiver. I’d pace. I’d kick the train, usually. It was so demeaning and frustrating. Nobody can keep me locked up. Yet there I was, too afraid to leave my own Dev-damned game out of fear that I’d be murdered. That had to be exactly what my attacker wanted me to feel. Just crippling, paralyzing fear. She may not have killed me, but maybe she was counting on other ways to make me disappear. And there I was, giving her what she wanted.

Wreck-it, on the other hand, left the game nightly to go to Tapper’s, right after closing. He’d check in with me beforehand, and it’d be the same each time.

He’d say, “Hey. Holdin’ up okay?”

I’d say, “Yup.”

He’d say, “Think you might leave soon?”

I’d say, “Hopefully.”

He’d say, “I’m going to Tapper’s, if you’re interested.”

I’d say, “No, thanks.”

End scene.

Word for word, the same every night. Those were really our only brief windows of communication, right up until the fifth night, after he had come back from Tapper’s and settled in. 

The withdrawals had cleared up by then, but, needless to say, I still didn’t feel too good. I’d been stuck in there for nearly a week, feeling more broken and pathetic than I’d ever felt in my life. Everything was weighing down so, so hard, it was like I could barely breathe. Being unable to find you, nearly being murdered, being villainized, practically losing my brush -- it all had me cornered. There was nowhere to run. I was wishing so deeply for a way out. So, like I’ve done countless times before, I stared out into the arcade through the screen, trying to imagine a reality where I could break out and leave all of this behind.

The thing is, though, I’d only ever dreamed of that when no one else was around. This time, I was peering over the mound of bricks that I’d been sleeping behind, barely ten feet from Wreck-it’s stump. I was lying there for Devs know how long before, completely by accident, a question slipped from my mouth.

“What do you think it’s like out there?”

Wreck-it jumped. “Huh?”

I jumped. “What?”

“What’d you say?”

I felt my face burn up. I couldn’t have that conversation, not with him. I slipped back down the bricks to my privacy, and instinctively grabbed my guitar. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter.”

Wreck-it didn’t press, but I didn’t expect him to. It was the heavy, awkward silence after that I was worried about, so, without a second thought, I started playing my guitar. I’d played quietly while Wreck-it was around a few times before, and he didn’t seem to mind. Up until that point, though, I’d been silent on the vocals, because… y’know, I guess I just didn’t feel much like singing since you’d left. But in my panic, I started singing the first thing that popped into my head. It was this song I’d started writing about a concrete world and a neon storm. It wasn’t done. I’d forgotten most of it. It was a freakin’ mess -- eventually, I just gave up. I sighed and started plucking no tune in particular. Me and my unpredictable mouth.

That’s when Wreck-it piped in again, casually.

“Was that a new one?”

I cringed. “Yeah. It’s... not done.”

He paused. “It was nice. When it’s done, you should play it at Tapper’s.” He paused again. “...Y’know, after… things die down a bit.”

“...Yeah, right. As if I’ll ever play there again. Certainly not at Qix, either.”

“No?”

“No. Sprites at Qix are there for a good time, and I’m not super conducive to those anymore, so… even if it ever opens up again, I’m off the setlist.”

Qix had, indeed, been barred from the public not too long after the incident. It had become even more of a hotspot for buff use and dealing. Hardly stopped users and dealers from finding new places for it, but, still, the arcade lost its one and only nightclub. So that was grand.

“And, as for Tapper, I kinda doubt he wants the arcade’s most hated sprite playing at his bar.”

“Tapper still likes you,” he said. “I mean, he even talked about you the other night, said he’d run into you at the memorial. Wanted to know how you were doing.”

It was true -- I had met Tapper briefly at the memorial, and I remembered that he said that I was always welcome in his game if I needed company. It really was a sweet thing, looking back. But I didn’t take him seriously at the time, ‘cause I still thought it was a big joke. And after that, I definitely made him regret his offer. All I’d done at Tapper’s was drink myself violent and end up throwing punches and breaking glass. I was certain that he’d changed his mind and started hating me like everyone else. That thought really stung.

I waited, for a moment. “...What did you tell him?”

“I just told him I wouldn’t know.”

“Good,” I nodded, “good.”

We were both quiet for a long while, before words slipped out of me again. “I’m gonna miss that bar.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… whether Tapper likes me or not, I’m… bad for business, now. I could draw sprites in with my music, before, but, now… Even if he says I’m welcome there, I’m not really. It’s not entirely up to him.” I sighed, and felt my voice drop so low, it practically dragged. “I’m not welcome anywhere, anymore, so… that’s great.”

“Nowhere at all?”

I said, “Nope. Didn’t you say yourself that I’m trouble? Big trouble? Everyone seems to think that. Bigger trouble than anyone can deal with nowadays.”

Once again, we were both silent for a moment. I’d stopped playing, reduced to flicking one string with my thumb, just enough to hear it.

I heard Wreck-it take a deep breath behind me. He paused, and then, in a slow, awkward voice, said, “Well… Yeah, maybe, but… You don’t scare me, kid.”

I wished that could have made me feel better. It was, objectively, a pretty decent thing to say, and another sprite probably would have been very comforted by the chance of an ally in this mess, or at the very least, someone with something resembling loyalty. But it just made me feel worse. I felt too smart to believe any of that crap could last. He didn’t know it yet, but he’d change his mind. I’d always figured that sooner or later, everyone would decide I’m too much. That was just the way of things. 

However, given my bleak circumstances, I had little choice but to accept his… tolerance while it lasted. Having someone on my side, even for just a little while, seemed like it could have proven helpful.

So, after a long, sullen silence, I just went back to plucking idly on my guitar. “Good to know you’re not as dumb as you look, then.”

His breath caught in disbelief for a second, before he dropped right back into growling, “Name-calling. Watch it.”

“It was a compliment, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, a super backhanded one.”

I closed my eyes, trying to play myself to sleep. “Just take it, pal. I don’t got that many kind words to share, so I gotta ration them out wisely.”

He grumbled. “You would call that kind.”

“I do. Now, can we cut the yammerin’ and sleep?”

“Fine. Yeesh.”

He slept. I didn’t. Not ‘til midday the following day, anyway. I fell asleep during gameplay hours, and woke up just after closing when Wreck-it stomped his big ol’ stumps up the bricks. We had the usual pre-Tapper’s exchange, ending, of course, with me refusing his offer to come along. I was tired as hell, and I still wasn’t ready to go out there.

But, as I quickly discovered, it didn’t matter if I was ready or not.

I’d been in a fitful sleep for what must have been barely half an hour when Wreck-it’s feet woke me up again. This time, he came around behind my bricky knoll to stand next to me, towering with this look on his face that I didn’t like at all.

He said, “Hey kid, guess what.”

“I’m being evicted?”

“No,” he grinned in a way I couldn’t read -- don’t really see him smile that often, honestly, “but you are leaving. You’re going to Tapper’s!”

I was not following. “Uh… ‘kay, you do know that I said ‘no thanks’, right? That’s a thing you remember?”

“Yup, yup, I do. But listen to this -- I talked to Tapper for you, and all that stuff you said about him hating you or -- or, y’know, all that --” he shook his head, “-- not true. He misses you, kid. You gotta get out there and show him you’re alive.”

I felt my face burn up.

“You-- You--” I sprung to my feet, “You TOLD HIM I’M STAYING WITH YOU!?”

He put his hands on his hips nonchalantly. “Yeah, maybe I did.”

“HOW-- WHEN I SPECIFICALLY SAID NOT TO?! THAT WAS RULE NUMBER ONE!!”

“Ah, ah,” he pointed, “polite request number one, and, request denied.”

I’d have throttled his fat neck if my fingers could fit around it.

“WHY’D I WASTE MY TIME BEING POLITE, THEN, LARD-FACE!?”

He seemed thoroughly unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m gonna let that one slide, because you can bellyache all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been in here way, way too long, kid.”

“QUIT CALLING ME KID! I’M GONNA LEAVE, OKAY! SOON! ON MY OWN!”

“Uh huh, I’m sure you were going to,” he nodded in a condescending sort of way that made me want to hurl a brick between his eyes, “but now you get to leave with me, right now.”

“NO, I DON’T!”

“You said you’re here ‘cause you had nowhere else to go, right? Well, now you’ve got somewhere else to go, so get up off my bricks, and come go to the bar like I know you’ve been dying to do all week.”

He wasn’t wrong. But I was so angry. And I was still so scared.

“I DON’T WANT TO GO, AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!”

His eyebrows raised for a second, and he shrugged. “Alright, I guess we’re doing this.”

Then the colossal bastard grabbed me. Me, as in, my entire body, in one of his huge, meaty paddles he calls hands. It’s not that he’s never done that before, but it’s always been to throw me, and lasted only a second. This time, he started walking down the bricks, with the clear intention of just carrying me the entire way to Tapper’s. His code is still less dense than that of Fix-it, but that prolonged contact still made my binary crawl. Devs, did it crawl.

So, after a quick burst of threats and shrieking, I conceded. I agreed to go with him if he would just put me the hell down. He dropped me, I ran back to grab my book bag, and we trudged to the train. The way he walked behind me made me feel like he was marching me to some grim fate. Some grim, unnatural, unspeakably awkward fate.

As much as I lamented being reduced to riding the train like a chump, seeing the way his massive ass just barely fit into one of the cars was pretty rewarding.

Once we started rolling, he told me, “You know it’ll do you good to get out. You’re just not coded for life in a box, kid.”

I don’t remember if I sighed or gave the flattest laugh of my life. “Yeah, tell that to the Devs. And for cuss’ sake, quit calling me kid.”

In all truthfulness, as scared as I was, I really was so relieved at a chance to finally leave. And as much as I hated not being able to do it on my own, I was, admittedly, glad to have a second pair of eyes. It was probably a pretty decent thing of him to do, scouting out a safe place for me to go. Even if I really, really didn’t want or ask for it.

But I’m still pissed at him for denying my incredibly polite request.

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: THE PROM

You guys. Remember when just last week week I LOLed at my mom when I told her I had finally watched the lesbian holiday movie (The Happiest Season) and she thought I meant The Prom and I told her (and then you, dear readers!) that it would take me forever to hate watch that. WELL I JUST HATE WATCHED THAT. There is a lot to discuss, you guys. ALSO WIGS.

We begin in “New York City” or the CGI hellscape replication of it. Nothing about this movie is authentic except for maybe NY1′s theater reporter, Frank Dilella at the opening of a fake musical called “Eleanor! The Eleanor Roosevelt Musical!” which is meant to be a hilarious joke (it is not) starring Meryl Streep as Eleanor and James Corden as FDR and JOKE IS ON THEM AND US because why are they in this terrible movie and why the hell am I watching it? Oh right: THE WIGS. YOU GUYS THE WIGS. Meryl, who is truly slumming more in this than any other actor in this garbage also has to endure the very worst wig. SHE DID HAVE AN EVEN WORSE WIG IN MARY POPPINS RETURNS. But here this wig is so very much a bad wig that I struggled for a while wondering if this was going to be a wig within the narrative but no. Sadly, it looks like a castoff from some QVC Liza Minnelli wig collection.

AND EVERYONE LOOKS LIKE THEY ARE DRESSED IN A QVC LIZA MINNELLI NON-HALSTON SEQUIN COLLECTION GHOSTMARE (Liza should probably trademark that tho). I HAVE NEVER SEEN SO MANY SEQUINS OUTSIDE OF DAVID GEST’S GUEST HOUSE. Also, after the fake Eleanor musical opens, Meryl and James retire to “Sardis” or the CGI version of it where they discover that their show got (gasp!) bad reviews. EVERYONE LEAVES IMMEDIATELY except Meryl, James, Andrew Rannells who is another actor/bartender and NICOLE KIDMAN.

SHE IS ALSO WEARING SEQUINS AND HAS A BAD WIG. But we are talking about Nicole Kidman, so the chances of her wearing a bad wig are 110%. I couldn’t honestly tell you what her role is in this other than “another Broadway actress”(?) Her wig is likely the same one that Joanna Lumley wore for 10 seasons as Patsy in Absolutely Fabulous which has in the last decade or so been slowly decaying in a crawlspace somewhere only to reappear on the head of Nicole Kidman in the role of “another Broadway actress” in this movie. Anyway, all these washed up randos decide they need to stop acting and start activist-ing and pin all their hopes on a lesbian in Indiana who wanted to go to the prom and got the whole prom shut down due to smallmindedness. They travel to Indiana in a non-equity Godspell touring bus during which time my husband asked me who designs bus seats and truly: that is a question more profound and interesting than anything you will find in this “film.” But I do have many questions! If these actors have all been on Broadway and Meryl’s character has a few Tonys even, why do they need to bus it to Indiana?!?!

Anyway, over in “Indiana” (all places are actually LA or a set or a CGI hellscape), there is a big community meeting or something which is still all about not having a prom, because the only damn thing that matters in this community is THE PROM. The NYC actors show up and turn the meeting into a musical extravaganza with Meryl and her tragic wig center stage. More questions!! As a theater piece, it would make sense for this whole meeting to suddenly become a musical performance complete with spotlight entrances and sparkle curtains because it is already all fantasy. Ryan Murphy has no interest in creating a more realistic presentation in this new medium and just lets that happen here too? Sure - I guess the actors could have just arrived with all stage cues and crews to make this happen (LOLOL NO THEY COULDN’T) and this is honestly exactly why most stage to screen adaptations rarely work (though to be very fair - I had just about as much interest in seeing this on stage as on TV - negative 1000%). All realism, logic, quality, are not at all what this “movie” is aiming for. JUST SEQUINS! CONSTANT GODDAMNED SEQUINS! 

It should be noted that Kerry Washington plays the conservative PTA mom at the center of canceling prom and bitch got away with the very best wig! Also the big spoiler here is that her daughter is the secret lesbian love of the lesbian she is trying to stop from going to the prom! GASP! Kerry also made really terrible career choices this year between this and Little Fires Everywhere which also involves secret lesbians. 

Also those lesbians have a love song that looks like this - aka that one scene in the loathsome La La Land which was itself completely derivative. There are many (many!) derivative scenes in this movie - a later one on a staircase with Nicole Kidman is a clear nod to that one staircase scene in All That Jazz (RIP ANN REINKING!) This was all done intentionally for us theater nerds but also all the movies it ripped off I also hated so? NO THANK YOU THE PROM. ALSO THE MAIN LESBIAN’S GRANDMOTHER IS PLAYED BY MARY KAY PLACE AND I LOVE MARY KAY PLACE FYI. 

Anyway! The NYC actors start their very ill-advised get-back-the-Prom campaign at......CGI monster truck rally wherein Andrew Rannells wears THIS GODDAMNED COAT. Trying to find any logic or realism in this movie is about as foolhardy as being Andrew Rannells wearing this coat and singing a musical theater song at a CGI monster truck rally in “Indiana.” 

Also! Keegan Michael Key is in this (WHO I LOVE ALWAYS) as the liberal principal who is trying to make prom happen. He also is a HUGE MUSICAL THEATER FAN though that doesn’t actually translate to being gay - it translates to him being obsessed with Meryl Streep who is his favorite stage actress. Sure! It all turns into Keegan Michael Key being a love interest with Meryl Streep which I DID NOT SEE COMING but I would love to watch an actual rom com with the two of them and not whatever this is? THEY HAVE A DATE AT AN APPLEBEES YOU GUYS HOW DID THIS HAPPEN.

At said Applebees (or “Applebees” more accurately because I’ve never seen one that sparkles like this), Keegan has a nice ballad which I couldn’t possibly hum for you now where he sings about the escapism of THEATRE and there is a flashback to him seeing Meryl in a musical called “Swallow the Moon” which is a pretty hilarious title and the whole thing looks exactly like another Liza Minnelli fashion show - this time with maybe a circus theme? At any rate, Meryl’s flashback wig is longer and more of a fashion bob but is still very fretful. 

I would like to take this opportunity to say that although I never saw The Prom musical on Broadway, from the pictures I have seen, Beth Leavel’s wig (in the same role as Meryl) is vastly superior in every way, despite the fact that stage wigs are allowed to be different/inferior as they are viewed from further away and not in bitter bitter closeup. 

Meryl looks great in close-up by the way BUT THAT WIG!!! I couldn’t find a good picture of it, but the hair part (if you can call it that?) is a dangerous ravine of mysteries none of which have anything to do with looking like real hair. MERYL HAS MORE OSCARS THAN ANYONE HOW WAS SHE GIVEN THIS WIG?! HOW!!!!!

Anyway, back to the “plot” of this movie, the PTA somehow agree to having a prom and all the kids go around prom-posaling (which is an awful horrible thing that I’m glad I was never part of) and which truly begs the question: if the kids hadn’t prom-posaled (UGH) to begin with, how did word get out that two lesbians were going and how did this prom get derailed in the first place? WHY AM I ASKING ABOUT PLOT HOLES WHEN THIS ENTIRE THING IS A PLOT HOLE?!?!?! So they have the prom, but it’s all an elaborate and cruel ruse and the real prom is at some hotel and the fake prom only for this one sad lesbian is a really depressing affair in the school gym (THIS PART OF THE MOVIE IS LEGIT HORRIBLE AND SAD). So Nicole Kidman, in the very important role of “another Broadway actress” that definitely needed to exist, decides to tell her to just “razzle dazzle ‘em” (WHICH ABSOLUTELY MEANS NOTHING IN THIS CONTEXT) in a very Fosse inspired (AND INCREDIBLY NIGHTMARE INDUCING) and also very confusing number. Also Andrew Rannells convinces a bunch of teenagers in a mall to like gay people! Mazel!

ALSO TRACEY ULLMAN IS IN THIS MOVIE AND NO ONE TOLD ME AND SHE HAS AN AWFUL WIG! So ok - James Corden, who I normally adore, plays a gay character with an American accent and in conclusion, is very miscast in this role. One of the few things Ryan Murphy has done which I actually liked was the revival of Boys in the Band (the play - I have yet to watch the movie!) And the entire cast was gay men playing gay men. Not sure why he then cast James Corden in this role because it’s not like we’re having a shortage of gay men who can sing? A friend of mine rightly pointed out that this character should have been played by Titus Burgess and VERY YES. Anyway, that’s not what happened and anyway, Tracey Ullman plays his mother who he reconnects with and I’m pretty sure the wig she wears was from her own collection from one of her past sketch shows and though I applaud wig recycling, bitch deserved better.

So yes - all these Broadway actor characters inexplicably are still in Indiana just TRYING TO MAKE THE PROM HAPPEN and Meryl, who somehow has both a celebrity ex husband and a Hamptons house (AGAIN WHY DID SHE TAKE A BUS TO INDIANA) uses both to get the main lesbian a forum on TV but she doesn’t take it and instead makes a singer-songwriter YouTube video which everyone on earth simultaneously watched!!! We are supposed to believe that this random video got 8 million views and she decides to use that leverage to make her own inclusive prom. This is a very lovely idea but again: not based in reality so Keegan is all: girl we need $$ to have a prom and somehow she doesn’t immediately make a go-fund me from all those YouTube views she got and instead all these actors throw down their credit cards to fund The Prom which is really horrifying knowing about real events which will totally make all those actors very unemployed (#2020) and YES I KNOW THIS MOVIE IS THE OPPOSITE OF REALITY BUT STILL.

In the end, ALL OF LIZA MINNELLI’S NON-HALSTON SEQUIN COLLECTION QVC FASHIONS get their own damn prom and even Kerry Washington shows up in the most outrageous sequined number after her daughter finally comes out to her and everyone dances it out and life is reaffirmed and Meryl’s wig IS STILL A PILE OF GARBAGE AS IS THIS MOVIE.

VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ

[mistbornthefinal]

Madoka Magica Aniversary Analysis: Part2

Hunting for Witches

(here there be spoilers, proceed at your own risk)

We get a quick recap of Mami introducing herself and blowing away Gertrude’s familiars, before cutting to Madoka waking up in bed much like last ep. Only this time Kubey is being a creepy bunnycat like always and is looming over her bed. Cue Connect.

As the two of them are brushing their teeth in their weird giant bathroom Junko chastises Madoka for being late and not checking in with the family. We then cut back to yesterday as Mami leads Madoka and Sayaka back to her house. Honestly I prefer the original broadcast version of Mami’s house it’s emptiness laid the seeds for the reveal of the desperately lonely girl Mami actually was. 

(Shaft there was a point where this need to stop and we’ve clearly passed it)

Mami gives them some cake and then gets down to business about this whole magic thing. She starts with the soul gem, the source of a magical girls powers which is created when she forms a contract with Kyubey. Kyubey then lays out the terms in exchange for becoming a magical girl he will grant the subject one wish, according to him anything is on the table. But becoming Meguca has a price, a magical girl must fight Witches. 

Back in the present Madoka asks her mom what she would wish for. Junko says she’d oust a couple of board members at her company, maybe the president as well the man is by her account too long in tooth and yet still refuses name a successor. Madoka suggest the she might be the next president and you can almost immediately see the wheels starting to turn in Junko’s head. Madoka watches slightly nonplussed as Junko begins playing her next moves in Game of Thrones: Mitakihara office politics edition.

(Madoka has no idea the cataclysm her off the cuff statement precipitated) 

Hours in the past Sayaka asks what a Witch is and how they are different from magical girls. Kyubey replies (in retrospect very weaselly) that if magical girls are born from wishes than witches are born from curses. In addition Witches can not be seen by normal humans, but none the less prey on them sowing anger and despair. Mami chimes in that many seemly inexplicable murders and suicides are due to witch curses. Sayaka asks why this isn’t common knowlage. The answer Witches hid from humanity in unreal pocket dimensions, the labyrinths.

What happened to the girls earlier is they had wandered into a labyrinth, something that’s usually fatal to ordinary humans. Mami stresses that within the labyrinth even her life is in danger so the two of them ought to weigh their options carefully before making a contract. As tempting as wish might be the price could very well be death. Despite the danger Mami offers them a chance to accompany them on a witch hunt to see what it’s like before they sign up.

As Madoka meets up with her friends on the way to school Sayaka is quick to react to the bunnycat perched on her shoulder. In addition to being invisible to muggles Kuybey also acts as telepathic relay. Though the twos silent conversation give Hitomi the wrong idea

(this scene became a meme for good reason) 

In the classroom Sayaka questions the wisdom of Kyubey coming to school, given the girl who tired to ice him yesterday is in their class. Kyubey says Mami is in telepathic range (prompting her to chime in) and he doesn’t peg Homura as the sort to cause a public disturbance. Homura’s arrival in class triggers another flashback to last evening.

Specifically the part of the conversation were they discuss the transfer student. Mami confirms that she is another magical girl. This confused Sayaka, why would a magical girl attack Madoka, shouldn’t they be allies of justice. Kyubey corrects her Homura was after him, likely to prevent him from making new contracts. Mami explains that conflict among magical girls is a common occurrence. Witch hunting has it’s rewards and sometimes megucas will fight each other to secure them. Sayaka rather astutely connects her interest in Madoka with the presumed desire to keep competitors out of the picture. 

This whole cutting between past and present thing might be a little hard to follow in text recap form, but it does us a service by cutting our big exposition dump and giving us time to breath in between segments. This scene tells us everything we need to know about magical girls and witches (or so we think) and even gives us some insight into what Homura is about. After EP 1 left us with nothing but questions EP 2 has given us faith that this show isn’t going to leave us in the dark. 

At lunch which Madoka and Sayaka have decided to eat on their schools aesthetic as fvck roof, the two discuss the possibilities of a wish.

(this school is cursed and I love it)

Sayaka says that as tempting as a wish is she balks at the cost, then laments that most people should have a wish that they would risk their lives for and that neither of them do shows how privileged they are. There is a brief cut who we will later learn is Kyosuke before laments that there are plenty of people in the world who would risk their lives on a wish, so why them.

Before we can get an answer Homura enters the scene. The girls are startled but Mami’s voice chimes in revealing that she’s providing overwatch from a nearby tower. Homura says she’s not here to fight and going after Kyubey again is pointless now that he’s made contact with Madoka. She just want’s to know where the stand re:becoming meguca. She then reminds Madoka of her earlier warning, a warning that hopefully has not fallen on deaf ears. Madoka asks what Homura wished for but only receives a cryptic look. 

They ditch Hitomi to go Witch hunting and fail to correct her... assumptions along the way. When the meet up with Mami at the cafe we learn that Sayaka brought a bat, while Madoka brought sketches of magical girl costumes. 

(sketches drawn by her awesome voice actress Yuuki Aoi)

They go back to where Mami fought the familiars so she can pick up the Witches magic trail and track it to her labyrinths new location. As the girls are following the trail we cut to a woman stumbling into an abandoned building, a building that someone wrote a Faust quote on one of the walls in the original German (more on that when do a post on Madok’s Faust references). 

Bach with Mami and hangers on we learn she has been systemizing her method of witch hunting, checking the places already prone to violence and accidents that witches tend to frequent. According to her the worst place for a witch to be is a hospital where they can leach the life from those already weakened by illness.

The arrive at the abandoned building just in time for Mami to catch the woman from earlier when she jumps off the roof. Though uninjured the woman is cationic and marked with a strange glyph that Mami identifies as a witches kiss. She lead the two of them into the labyrinth through a portal but not before enchanting Sayaka’s bat. Homura is not far behind. 

Mami makes easy work of the familiars and after a series a surreal doors open we reach to core of the labyrinth and meet it’s creator.

(I’m not sure what people were expecting back in 2011 but I don’t think it was a butterfly rosebush monster)

Gertrude gets her name plastered on the screen in witch runes, setting us up for a boss fight, cue magia. Mami curtsies to the witch causing two of her signature muskets to fall from her skirt. Gerturde throws her sofa at her and the flies through the air to dodge return fair from Mami’s guns. While Mami is focused on the witch herself several small familiars on the ground merge into a giant tendril that takes her off guard and slams her into the wall. 

Mami is able to turn the table by conjuring threads from the bullets embedded in the ground to ensnare the witch. She then uses the ribbon of her uniform to cut herself free and then conjures a giant gun with it that blows the witch away.

(No one else in this show names their attacks, Mami is such a dork)

Mami celebrates with a cup of tea as the barrier dissipates, then picks up a strange black object from the ground. This she tells Madoka, Sayaka, and the audience is a Grief Seed. The Grief Seed is a witches egg and it can be used to cleanse the darkness of a girls soul gem, replenishing her magic. She then tosses it into the darkness only for a previously unseen Homura to catch it. It has one more use which Mami offers to Homura. Homura rebuffs this offer which Mami takes poorly and Sayaka even more poorly. Madoka on the other hand just wants everyone to get along. 

With the influence of the witch gone the woman from earlier awakens, and is distraught at what she almost did. Mami comforts the woman telling her it was all a bad dream. The episode ends with Madoka musing that while she has no idea what wish she would stake her life on she admires Mami’s heroism. (cue Mata Ashita)

That’s Episode 2 which I would say is the most fundamental episode for understanding Madoka’s plot. We got a whole lot of exposition dumped, far more than you notice because it’s intercut with slice of life movements and character building. The it was capped off with a cool fight scene.  Everything from here on essentially either confirms or subverts what episode establishes.  

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Apathy”

Ok everyone, this was a super big pain to try to get into four pages. I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies that you see here, but there is a lot that I cannot fit in to make it more accurate.

WARNING! For anyone who doesn’t want to see images of PTSD, violence or some self harm, you probably don’t want to read this. 

This is a very important chapter for you to understand some things I have planned for upcoming posts. As always critiques, questions comments, prompts, ideas and messages are always welcome.

Krill peered around the doorframe into the captain’s quarters, he definitely planned on speaking with him about Sunny, this was the third time in two days she had slammed her head into a doorframe because she wasn’t looking: mostly because she was listening to music. To keep the integrity of her skull, he thought it might be best to limit her music time, for her health or course.

When he came around the corner, he found Captain Vir kneeling on the floor with Waffles, scratching her behind the ears with one hand and fitting her into a vest with the other. Krill was only just beginning to understand the human script but he thought he read.

Service Dog DO NOT TOUCH.

“Captain, what is that?” He wondered, completely forgetting his earlier question.

Captain Vir looked up from where he knelt rubbing the dog’s ears, “Oh, It’s her service vest.” When Krill didn’t seem to understand, the man continued, “Sometimes human’s train dogs to help people with stuff like a disability, medical condition or mental illness. The vest allows her to go into places other dogs can’t.”

“Oh…. Is that because of your leg than?”

The captain shook his head, “No, I used to have pretty severe PTSD after coming home from the war. I don’t so much now, but sometimes I have my days.”

Krill shifted a little nervously, “May I ask….” He trailed off not sure how to phrase the question.

Vir grinned at him, “Krill, you know you can ask me anything right, but I get what you’re trying to say… the war ending was actually worse for me than the war itself.”

***

Lieutenant Vir lay on his bunk in the dim lighting listening to the sound of the ship’s distant engines. His missing leg throbbed.  Even with it gone, it was still destined to haunt him. Door opened a crack, he listened with apathy as the Captain spoke to one of the other officers

“How are they?”

A long pause followed, “About as good as you’d expect.”

The captain gave a long sigh, and Vir could hear the sound of his clothes shifting, “Well, we just started our descent, so get them up, and let’s get these boys home.”

***

Vir sat in the shuttle as it rocked underneath him. He looked down at his missing leg, and the shitty surplus prosthetic they had given him, the knee didn’t even bend forcing him to limp around on crutches. He had already fallen more times than he could count. He squeezed his eyes shut as the ship rocked harder trying to force down the panic as the sound of the ship’s engines grew louder and louder in his ears. His leg throbbed with the beating of his heart, and his breathing sped up.

They touched down some minutes later his head ringing as the shuttle coasted to a stop and the doors were opened. He gathered up his crutches and levered himself to his feet limping horribly at the awful prosthetic and his stupid crutches. He slipped coming off the ramp landing hard on his side. The soldiers on the tarmac rushed forward to help him up, but he angrily shrugged them off. They stepped back hesitantly as he struggled to his foot, hip smarting. He could feel his eyes growing hot with unshed tears, but he forced those down too angrily limping away from the ship head down. He didn’t want to see their faces, the pity, the cripple.

He felt so stupid angry at that idiot boy obsessed over aliens and UFOs. If he had just been normal, none of this would have happened. Even the thought of aliens made him sick, made him want to curl up, to run away, though he couldn’t even run now. His throat tightened; he felt as if a massive hand came down to constrict his chest.  Still nursing his bitter thoughts, he was ushered through a door into the terminal, and there he saw them. His mother and father waiting for him by baggage claim.

They saw him too, and he watched the look on his mother’s face as her eyes widened, and her hands shot up to cover her mouth. His father’s expression never changed much, but now an expression of anger, and then horror shot though him for a small moment. Upon seeing them, the hotness returned to Vir’s eyes.

They met him halfway, his mother crying, and his father stoically silent. She wrapped him up in her arms in a way that she never had before. This time, he couldn’t contain the heat, and he felt the tears beginning to spill down his cheeks as he rested his head against her shoulder.

***

The sky above was blue, or it should have been. Everything seemed so grey these day. Vir sat on the back porch of his childhood home scanning the shrubs at the back of the yard for signs of movement. He didn’t mean to do it, it was just habit at this point. His head snapped to the side thinking he had seen a flash of blue form the corner of his eye, but no. He went back to scanning the trees acutely aware of the emptiness that so haunted him. From his new spot on the porch, he was just able to hear any conversation coming from the kitchen. He had heard a lot of conversations about him these days, about how he wasn’t himself, about how their happy boy was gone, about how he needed help, about how the VA sucked (yeah, about a thousand years later and the VA still sucked).

He would feel bad for his parents, if he could FEEL anything, anything but anger, or fear. He couldn’t go out in public anymore, he got overwhelmed in crowd, and sudden noises had him ducking for cover. The more crowded an area, the more flashbacks he got, the more panic attacks.

And he still couldn’t walk very well. That made him angry. He just wanted to run, to get away from his problems, but you can’t run from your problems when you can’t even run. He dropped his head into his hands, but looked back up almost immediately scanning the yard once again.

A hand on his shoulder, “Adam.”

The flashback was immediate and violent, the Drev looming against a blood red sky. Pain.

When his vision cleared, he was on his feet, and his mother….. she was backed against the doorframe hand to her mouth.

She was bleeding.

He stepped back, “Mom… I…. I’m.” And then he ran, as much running as he could do. He slipped on the floor barely catching himself on the wall before running into his room and slamming the door locking it behind him. He slid down the other side of the door shaking staring at his hands stomach churning in abject horror.

He was a monster.

He dropped his head against his knee biting his hand to choke back the sobs.

He could hear them knocking on the door begging him to come out, to talk to them. She wasn’t mad, she was sorry, she shouldn’t have snuck up on him, apologizing like it was her fault, when everyone knew it was his. He bit down even harder filling his mouth with warm copper.

Around the room, posters stared at him with accusing eyes. Accusing alien eyes.

Aliens.

He closed his eyes but could still feel their staring at him their accusations. What right did they have to accuse him, after taking his leg? The anger welled up inside him, until he couldn’t contain it.

With all the hatred he had pent up for them, he clawed his way to his feet, he ripped the posters from the walls throwing them to the floor, tearing them into pieces, he smashed figurines spilling glass across the floor, he ripped pictures from books, tore sketches from drawing books until his hands were bleeding.

Outside, his father hammered on the door demanding to be let in. His mother cried.

***

He lay on the floor amidst the pages and the glass removed from everything wallowing in apathy. The anger had trained away to be replaced by the nothingness. The voices outside his door ad stopped hours ago, after he had acknowledged to his parents he was still alive. They were worried, but his father hasn’t been able to break down the door. He had tried.

A soft click, the door swung open.

Adam turned in surprised to find David kneeling at the level of the door holding a set of lock picks.

He was alone.

“Hey baby brother, you look like shit.”

Adam turned his head away, “Just leave me alone.”

David moved forward standing over him, “No, Adam, you crossed a line today. I know you’re sick, and it isn’t your fault, but it’s time to get help.” David reached down and grabbed him by the shoulders hauling him to his feet with an immense amount of strength, “Come on, let’s go.”

“I know a guy, and he’s promised to get you help.”

***

They sat in the waiting room Him and David filling out the final paperwork. His brother had been a pest, but at least he hadn’t treated him like a glass sculpture. He talked to him the same, joked with him the same, and told him when he was being a jerk. It was annoying, but it was kind of nice.

As he was making the last signature something padded across the floor. There was a light pressure on his knee, and he looked down to find a large set of brown eyes looking up at him.

The dog wagged its tail. The vest glittered red and black in the overhead lights.

A woman stood a few feet away smiling as the dog shoved its snout forward forcing him to stroke its ears. It made a soft grumble crawling halfway into his lap resting its head against him as he ran a hand down her soft fur.

He smiled for the first time in months.

Waffles was a good girl, she help him during the flashbacks and the panic, the stopped him from continuing with poor coping habits, she led him away from overwhelming areas, and she kept people at a safe distance when that didn’t work.

Slowly, he got better.

***

He sat on the floor with Waffles sitting next to him, “And this is a Rundi, I saw them the most when I was out. They fought with us in the war, fast suckers, but they couldn’t take a hit worth a damn. I should have more information around her somewhere.” He shuffled through the pile of papers with waffles resting her head on his knee staring up at him with big brown eyes.

A soft knock at the door.

He looked up to find his mother standing there. He smiled at her and she beamed back walking in to sit next to him reaching over to rub waffles across the belly. The dog grumbled, “Who’s my favorite girl?”

“Mom, I think I’m ready to get back to work.”

She beamed, “That’s great Adam, what are you going to do?”

He sat running a hand over his new prosthetic, it had helped a lot over his old one. All the joints articulated, even the toes (which definitely helped his balance) after months of physical therapy, you couldn’t even tell he was missing a leg. He even managed to stand up on moving busses so others could have his seat. He took the dog out for daily runs regaining the fitness he had lost during those long months after the war.

“I’m going back.”

She looked confused, “Back to where?”

“The army, mother, I want to see the rest of what’s out there.”

She didn’t much like that idea.

She was very worried about what would happen if he were to ever meet a Drev.

[niccoxgiraffe]

Hello! This Elu fic is the English version of the one I posted a couple of days ago in Italian. Shout out to my friends Alex, who picked the prompts for me, and Marla, who proof read the English version. Hope you like it! <3

Prompts:

5. “I can't sleep, can I sleep here?”

13. “Are you cold?”

93. “You make me feel safe”

.

Lucas’ head was still spinning from the party at Emma’s. Not that he had drunk that much, but - at some point of the night - the house got so crowded that the boy could barely breathe. The air smelled like smoke and sweat, which didn’t help at all. And then there were some chicks of the first year who kept staring at him with lust in their eyes, making him feel even more uncomfortable. For the entire time, Lucas had wished for anything but his boyfriend to be there with him, but instead Eliott stayed home with a possible depressive episode incoming. So he had kept drinking, dancing, laughing with his friends and just not caring in general until he couldn’t take it any longer.

The bus ride back home, luckily, was long enough to let him collect himself. So at least the feeling of suffocation vanished by the time he arrived at his stop.

Once he got there, Lucas dragged himself to the door of his shared flat and looked for the keys in the pocket of his blue jacket. As soon as he managed to unlock it with a creak, he saw the living room and the kitchen sunk into total darkness. Lisa was surely sleeping, while Mika... Who knows. Mika could’ve been to bed as well, as much as he could’ve been at some party or he could’ve been having fun at someone else’s place. Anyway, Lucas put his jacket and his scarf in the closet at the entrance, trying to make as little noise as possible. Last time he woke Lisa up in the middle of the night by accident, he found a giant penis drawn on his cheek with a permanent marker. The girl could become highly vengeful if anyone dared to deprive her of her precious hours of sleep. He didn’t want to bother her again, thank you very much.

He went through the flat on his tiptoes, and as he got in front of his room, he noticed a dim light coming from inside. Weird: he didn’t remember leaving a lamp on unless one of his flatmates didn’t stick their nose in his bedroom and forgot to turn it off. He slowly opened the door and his heart started racing at the sight of the person occupying the room. He didn’t expect a visit at all. Not at such an hour, at least. However, he was so glad that he was there.

On his bed, Eliott was sitting with his legs crossed. He held a pencil in his right hand and a notebook was lying in his lap. Lucas knew pretty well what that meant: Eliott used his doodles as a way to communicate or express his emotions, especially when his head was too messed up to understand his own feelings. And judging by the way he drew hectic strokes on the paper, too many thoughts were clouding his mind in that moment. He seemed so lost in his work (and in himself) that it took him a while to realize he wasn’t alone anymore. From that distance, Eliott’s eyes looked like black pools, the shadows were sharpening his features so much that he appeared scrawnier than he actually is. It wasn’t the first time that Lucas saw him so dull, run down and lifeless. Nonetheless, he knew he would never get used to seeing him like that, neither to the feeling of powerlessness facing similar situations. Like it or not, he preferred having him around way more than not being with him at all and not knowing how he was doing.

The older one forced a tired little smile and broke the silence. “I can’t sleep, can I sleep here?”

Lucas felt a wave of heat spreading in his chest. Maybe this time his illness would’ve been mild to him. Maybe he was just sad and he was looking for support. Maybe this state of mind of his wouldn’t last long. Maybe, maybe, maybe... Enough. Did that really matter? For one reason or another, his boyfriend wasn’t feeling well and it was his job to make him smile again. He sat on the bed next to him, taking his free hand. The rings he wore on his long fingers created a sharp contrast with his soft and warm skin.

“Of course you can,” he answered in a whisper and kissed him on the forehead. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and I’ll be right back, okay?”

.

Five minutes later, when he got back in his room, Lucas found Eliott lying under the covers. The notebook and the pencil were forgotten at the foot of the bed, so the blonde boy gathered them and placed them on his desk. He glanced at the drawing for a couple of seconds: it was a raccoon (Eliott’s “spirit animal”) running from a dark cloud. Lucas felt a lump forming in his throat, so he swallowed and dismissed any bad thought that was taking form in his head. He had to be strong for Eliott, at that moment. He couldn’t afford to show how worried he actually was, otherwise the situation could get worse. Maybe if he told him about how Basile embarrassed himself earlier, he could’ve distracted him for a while. Or he could show him the video of Arthur and Alexia that he posted on Instagram. And what if he proposed to watch a movie together? Maybe he didn’t want to listen to his stories about the party. Lucas shook his head and decided to simply lay down next to his boyfriend. He lifted the covers as much as he needed to slide under, face to face with the older one. Eliott’s gaze was lost into the empty but, as soon as Lucas’ hand reached his face, he slowly managed to focus on him.

“Is there anything I can do?” Lucas asked cautiously, stroking his cheek with his thumb. Eliott didn’t say a word, but the boy noticed him slightly shivering under his touch. “Are you cold?”

This time he didn’t even dare to speak, but nodded. Lucas felt the hem of his shirt being pulled and it made him smile, because he understood what his boyfriend needed. So he adjusted himself better on the pillows to wrap Eliott in a hug. He was aware of the fact that his body wasn’t big enough to entirely shield him, but it didn’t matter. Lucas let one of his hands slide into the other’s messy hair and he sensed Eliott’s mouth curving a little onto his neck in a tiny smile. They stayed like that in silence for a long time, just listening to each other’s breaths. Lucas loved contemplating his boyfriend while he was asleep: if angels were real, Eliott would be one of them, he was sure of it. He had the hood of his sweater lowered on his head, which made him look even smaller and cuter, the skin on his face was relaxed, the lips slightly parted and his hands were still weakly clenching his clothes. He knew it was scientifically proved that human hearts couldn’t get bigger, yet he still felt like that, like his love for that boy kept growing to the point that his heart had to expand just to make room for that emotion. Every now and then, he left some kisses on his head or forehead, while Eliott kept snuggling even further against Lucas. The exhaustion that was weighing on him a couple of hours earlier had been replaced with the urge to stay awake to cuddle his boyfriend, to kiss him, protect him, reassure him. He would’ve kept an eye on him even if he were about to die. It would’ve been worth it just to see one of those beautiful smiles of his that he loved so dearly or to hear once again that laugh that turned his entire body into pure jelly.

“Lucas?” Eliott’s hoarse voice came out in a whisper, which became even less audible because of his face buried in the crook of the younger boy’s neck. Lucas, in return, kissed him on his temple. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

And, little by little, the two of them slipped into a quiet slumber.

.

“How is he doing?” Lucas huffed at Yann’s question. It’s been two days since Eliott crashed at his place without a warning, in the middle of the night. The boy seemed to have no interest in going back home, so he had to call his parents to tell them he was at the coloc and that he'd taken care of him. He never met Eliott’s parents but since they got together and Lucille decided to move on, he’s been the only one they could count on to keep an eye on their son. “Not good. But he’s been worse. He’s gonna be okay.”

“Of course he’s gonna be okay!” Basile chimed in, waving around his fork full of pasta with tomato sauce. “We’re talking about Eliott, guys. Also, you said he just looked tired, didn’t you? It’s gonna be over soon, trust me.”

Arthur, who was sitting next to him, moved some inches away from his friend. “We got it, but try not to throw pasta around the canteen, alright?”

Yann and Lucas burst into a loud laugh as the latter felt his phone vibrating into the pocket of his jacket. When he reached for it, his fingers caught also a piece of paper he didn’t remember to have. Luckily, the boys were too busy talking about the way Basile ate to notice the foolish smile that was blooming on his lips while reading the note.

It was a notebook page. At the top, there was the same doodle he saw Eliott drawing the night he surprised him in his room, but under it there were two new sketches. The first one represented a brave hedgehog who was standing in front of the cloud, attempting to protect the poor scared raccoon with fierceness. In the other one, there were simply pictured the two little animals hugging tight, along with a sentence that brought Lucas to wipe his teary eyes.

“You make me feel safe.”

[morshtalon]

Dragon Quest II

Well, it's been a while since I wrote a review on something. I've played a number of games in the meantime, but none of them really gave me anything I felt was worth talking about or that hasn't been talked about before, so I just keep them in the backburner of my mind for possible future reference.

However, I feel like current circumstances make for a good time to dig up one of the games I wanted to share my thoughts on for a long time, and that I had beaten before even writing the first review I've ever "published". That game is Dragon Quest II.

Part of the reason why I held off on it for so long is that I don't think my review of the first game is all that great, and another part is that, again, I don't feel like I've bunched up enough good stuff to say, even though I really wanted to talk about it ever since I played it.

But hey, by far and wide my post popular post is technically related to Dragon Quest II, so why not cut to the chase and do it, right?

Anyway, to say that the first game took off in popularity is an understatement, it being the seminal harbinger of an entire genre of gaming that would soon take the world by storm. You would think that means this would be the time-old tale of "runaway success game making company executives pressure developers into slaving away at a sequel with suffocating deadlines". However, planning for DQII apparently began before DQI was released. 1986 was a different time, I guess. A time when the industry was fledgling enough that it wasn't that much more than a group of dudes banding together to bring an idea to life, and then - not a moment of hesitation after that idea comes to fruition - immediately start brainstorming ways in which they can build on it to give birth to new, more complex explorations of the concepts they had just tackled.

I believe this is why it's good to go back and play these games in their original versions, in chronological release order. Nowadays, it's virtually impossible to innovate. Back then, almost every big-time franchise was always finding ways to breathe fresh air into the structure of their games. Though Dragon Quest isn't the most innovative when compared to the likes of Final Fantasy, they were still making great strides into the codification of the type of game they had pioneered. With that knowledge in mind, one can really appreciate the evolution by going back and exploring these things as they grew with the times. And hey, Final Fantasy still wasn't around by the time DQII came out, so once again, they had to rely on ideas from western RPGs they liked.

In my opinion, II is the first jRPG that actually feels good to play, if you can put yourself into the mindset of an 80's gamer. The designers felt the 1v1 battles of the first title were boring - a sentiment which I share - and put in different groups of enemies as well as extra party members for you to find. One thing that some of these old RPGs that only let you target a group of enemies does is drawing only one enemy sprite on-screen to represent the entire group. Surprisingly, this game does not do that, even though it predates all the ones that do. It draws every enemy on-screen, which doesn't seem like much nowadays, but it's very appreciated nonetheless. Sure, it came at the cost of battle backgrounds (all fights in this game are set against pure blackness), but they did the right thing. The party itself follows what would become a typical archetype of 3-person groups: One character who is a jack-of-all-stats, balanced between physical prowess and magic, one who is focused on physical combat (in this game, this character actually has no magic capabilities whatsoever), and one who is a pure mage. Perhaps surprisingly, because these structures hadn't become tropes yet, the main character is the physical one, and he's also pretty much the most reliable party member by a reasonable margin, even though all he can do is attack normally. Balance issues aside (we'll talk about that later), I honestly sort of dig this arrangement. It's a little bit of a breath of fresh air to see the main character in an RPG rely completely on his weapons, and in the future, in any DQ title that has a reasonable degree of character customization, I always try to make the protagonist a physical powerhouse, to match the one from this game. It hardly ever works, but hey, it just goes for show that I enjoyed it while playing. Given that the other party members join you as you progress through the game at specific points, that also means the complexity of magic spells is added to your arsenal slowly, getting you used to it without feeling overwhelming. Sure, the game is simple enough that it wouldn't be overwhelming regardless of how they had set up the pacing, but I never felt like any of the times I struggled were because of insufficient knowledge of the game mechanics. So, the battles are fun enough, and they feel just right in terms of complexity vs. focus. The strategies to win are simple - really, the whole game is very simple - but it does its job well, and it allowed the developers to have near-perfect control of the game's difficulty curve. As a result, it is also - almost up to the end of the game - pretty nice, even if the whole thing is on the challenging end of things. At the end, it gets... A little special. We'll get to that later.

Let's take a step back and look at the gameplay outside battles. First of all, the story is... sparse, to say the least. Not as much as the one in the first game, and supplemented in the international version by a frankly kick-ass introduction that gives the experience a certain tone and atmosphere I appreciate a lot, but still, it's 1987. jRPGs were... not so much about the story back then, if you can believe that. In fact, they were more like an extension of a point-and-click adventure game. DQII is, essentially, a big fetch quest. In a different story, one that has enough plot points that you can sense a type of underlying narrative progression, I would not enjoy having the game interrupted by a blatant collectathon. However, the fetch quest aspect is basically the soul of this entire game. The extremely loose story paves the way for an experience that boils down to pure exploration and combat, with light elements of puzzle-solving woven in, using the fetch quest premise simply as a background to leave the developers with fertile soil to plant their little tricks and enigmas without worrying too much about how it would all connect rationally. And here, we witness an aspect of old games that could only spring about as a byproduct of limited graphics, ill-defined representations of the setting's reality, and a healthy disregard for common sense, things that were the style at the time. The puzzles, and sometimes just the exploration, violate logic quite heavily. Traversing through a monster-infested castle to get to a point that is technically outside the castle, but you can't just walk around it because most of the outside grass tiles are exit tiles that warp you back to the world map? Sure, why not? Having dedicated "teleport-room" maps that only serve the explicit purpose of housing a teleporter to another part of the world, except for one which also houses a chest with an essential item if you walk along the right border of the map, but not the identical-looking left one? Mario 2 hid a goal post inside a secret too, so yeah! Throw that in! Stairs down in a brick islet surrounded by water which brings you to a room that's... Also at water level? We hardly have enough tiles to go around, let alone a set to represent underwater or underground rooms, so whatever! Nobody cares! And, honestly, I truly don't care, either. If a game is up to, let's say, willfully forgo a bit of logic in order to formulate a creative puzzle to play around with your expectations, then all the more power to it. I honestly feel like puzzles nowadays are too sectioned-off, contained within a single room in a single dungeon, ready for the player to walk in, solve it, move on to the next point in the flowchart and never think about it twice. When puzzles are woven in so closely with the world, requiring the player to think outside the box at all times, as they're out there exploring, it makes the whole game feel like it's working together to make a point, and helps reduce that feeling one gets when playing RPGs where there are very separate elements of gameplay that... Don't really connect to each other very well. Sure, you're blatantly aware you're playing a videogame at all times, and it's not super great for immersion, but this was a time when there just... wasn't enough memory for immersion. It was a constraint that naturally gave way to challenges that capitalized on its own limitations, and therefore, created a type of immersion of its own, where the player is completely sucked into their own thoughts, holding a notebook with a rough sketch of the world map in their hand (yeah, I might have done that), taking notes and thinking where in the world could that last crest possibly be?! I think DQII hit that sweet spot of looseness vs. clarity in the narrative that helped these wild, nonsensical elements flourish. I really don't know how other people react to this sort of thing, but I don't care. I had a good time with it, and soon after this game, everything RPG started to become more focused on story. That's definitely not a bad thing, but I felt a kind of clear, developer-to-player kind of communication from these small bits of wrongness that made me more aware of the time, effort and creativity put into it by the people who were making it. I realized that, were I in the shoes of the dude who was making all this crazy stuff, I'd be stoked to see my friends trying to solve them. I'm not trying to be sentimental, that's how I honestly felt while playing that part with the teleporter and the chest. In any case, I appreciated it.

Then you get to the road to Rhone.

Though, apparently, the game was not pressured into deadlines by higher-ups, I did read something about one of the guys in the team offhandedly setting a deadline that turned out to be just that little bit too tight, requiring it to be delayed from November 1986 to January 1987. This, along with the fact that, at the time, the second title in a franchise had the habit of being designed for people who were hardcore fans of the first game in that series, might go a little ways into explaining why everything starting from the road to Rhone is absolutely fucking brutal. Every element of the game that, previously, was a tad questionable, leaving that little itch of worry in the back of your head, returns here with the express intent to make your life miserable. I have a high tolerance for difficulty, one that is even higher for RPGs where, for the most part, there are always ways to slightly circumvent it and make your life easier. The simplicity of design in DQII means that this is not the case here, and from this point on you're expected to not only have the skill and familiarity you've accrued while playing, but also a very healthy amount of luck to go with you, otherwise you will die. And rest assured, you WILL die. In fact, due to the specific way in which the player's mortality rate skyrockets in Rhone, it's almost not even a matter of the game being "hard" in the traditional sense, because it doesn't exactly require you to be strong enough or smart enough anymore, it just requires you to be patient enough to slowly trudge through the mountain of corpses of your former attempts until you figure out how to minimize your risks to the lowest degree they possibly can be minimized, then hitting that sweet spot of luck and control that finally allows you to reach the end of the game. This particular way of handling things means that, after you hit about level 30 with the main character, further leveling will only render you negligibly less likely to die, and the effects are not strong enough from level to level to even be clearly noticed. But what exactly makes it so hard? The answer is primarily RNG. When you reach the end, you will begin to notice just how much RNG there is through the whole game. Starting off, the turn order is entirely random. There is an agility stat, but I never found any evidence of it actually factoring into who goes first in battle (instead, it's a carryover from DQI that calculates your base defense). If there are more than three enemies, you're at a disadvantage, but even if there aren't, a stray run of bad luck - which is guaranteed to happen given the density of random encounters - means you're gonna have to scramble with enemy attacks, and they are perfectly capable of leaving you in such a state that it would take a miracle to put yourself back in shape, if they don't just wipe you out instantly. Now, remember, two of your three characters have magic. However, at this point in the game, enemies have a large amount of magic resistance to all kinds of different spells, and magic resistance in this game means that there is a chance the spell simply won't work. If it does, it deals full damage. If it doesn't, it deals none at all. I don't know about you, but I almost never take my chances with low-accuracy, gimmicky stuff in other games. This one renders all spells like that given enough time. If you decide to rely on physical strength, the main character is the only one who will bring you any significant results. The pure mage at this point in the game is far more efficient at support casting than direct damage, and the balanced character is - memetically, at this point - incompetent at both, and also sucks as a physical fighter, so once again, you're boned on that front. All of a sudden, running away becomes an alluring strategy. However, once again, there is an ever-prevalent random factor to it, so the pressure is on in all fronts. The game becomes a challenge of carefully planning out how to simply survive each encounter. Do you take the chance and run? If you fail, you'll be wailed on by the full force of the enemy party, and will likely be too weak to attempt mounting a resistance. Do you take the bait and unleash the full force of your attacks? What if they all target different enemies in the group? You won't deal enough damage to kill one of them, so you'll suffer heavy retaliation and waste precious MP that could be spent on healing spells. Did you win or escape successfully? You've only lost about 20% of your health, but some encounters can relieve you of the remaining 80% before you can even act, so do you spend MP healing or do you trudge on because you already don't have that many to go around? If you make the wrong decision at any of these break points - and rest assured, there won't be a shortage of them - you'll either die or get so close to death it will be almost irrelevant to keep going. And then, it's back to the last save point. Rinse and repeat many times until you clear the road and get to Rhone proper, for one final save point and one last, grueling stretch of game before the final boss. Here, the game introduces enemies that have, no joke, a move that kills your entire party and has 100% accuracy. Typing it out, it sounds like hyperbole, like i'm salty that I died so much and am exaggerating the things the game does in order to trick myself into believing that it was super impossible times infinity, but no, it's true. To be fair, there isn't a high chance the enemy will perform this move, but when they do, there's absolutely nothing you can do to save yourself. Just reset the game when the screen turns red. Other than that, the rest of the lovely cast of enemies rounding up the final waves are more than capable of just killing you the regular way, so keep your wits about you like you did back in the cave and grind yourself up until the stat bonuses start getting negligible, because now, you need to face five bosses in a row. Right, okay, technically you can go back and heal yourself right before the last one, but I didn't know that, so if you're an idiot like me, try to get ahold of a Wizard Ring, as well. It's the only way to heal MP, and can be used multiple times until - you guessed it - it randomly decides to break. After that, you just have to contend with two bosses that use a move that heals all their HP when it gets low, so you also have to roughly keep track of their state in your mind so you can unleash a full round of attack before they can get in that heal. Unless your spell doesn't hit them, of course. Or they happen to go first. Or you just barely miss the threshold of HP that will actually kill them. Oh, and be careful! One of the other bosses also knows the instant death move. He won't use it often, but 30 or so attempts in, you're likely to see it once or twice.

Then, the final boss can randomly spawn with a number of hit points between 75% and 100% of his assigned value (every enemy does that), and you're gonna deal an average of about 15% damage per turn to it. Sounds easy at first, but he will take you out in either one or two moves, and...

...Here's the motherload...

...He has a 1 in 16 chance of casting the full heal move at any point in the battle. And he WILL do that the first 2 or 3 times you get to him, sucking you dry of resources and smashing your face all the way back to the save point to try the 5 bosses again, so it's back to grinding attempts until you have another mostly hopeless shot at him.

But when you get him, man...

When you do it...

*sigh*

Anyway, this was a long, rambling, focus-shifting tangent just to correctly capture the degree of luck and randomness that constitutes the final stretch of Dragon Quest II. How does it impact the rest of the game? Well, I still appreciate it for what it did right, and there's a small, strange part of me that actually thinks the insane difficulty perfectly fits the stakes that the game set up, but it is, nevertheless, very hard. And once again, it's the kind of hard that is virtually impossible to circumvent. For any average, non-god-tier player, there is no alternate way of tackling the simple-looking, but highly controlled challenges in this game that trivializes it. You can't change your party, you can't buy extra spells, you can't really use stat-up items to change stat configurations in any significant way. You just have to keep trying and hope it works, and for the first few dozen times, it won't, so you'll just have to deal with it.

Still, it shows, even up to the end, that the DQ team has a certain grasp of consistency in design that will slowly grow and adapt as the series embraces new complexities through the years. DQII stands as somewhat of a black sheep in the series (as the second titles of old franchises often do), but I think it has its place, and it's surely a wild ride. Also, if you can get yourself into the mindset of late 80's design, I can assure you it won't ever be boring. Maddening, sure, but not boring. It's more fun in the midgame, in my opinion, as for someone who is very used to RPGs, it can be exceesingly simplistic at the start and too hopelessly uncontrollable at the end, but I feel it deserves a score of 7 out of 10. It's pure gameplay, and, for what it's worth, you WILL get an intense experience. Just be ready to shake, a lot. And pad your walls.

[thebeethathums]

Observers - 24

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Warnings: Manic mess making and fear

You woke up with a sore throat, no doubt courtesy of the cold in your flat, and groaned, rolling over to look for John. He was gone and when you saw the time it was no surprise, like clockwork that man, always up before nine. Pulling yourself out of bed felt like the most difficult thing in the world but you managed to get yourself to your feet. You trudged down the stairs, rubbing your eyes as you came into the living room, only to jump when they found Sherlock in his chair. You snapped your head to face forward and then consciously avoided that area, slipping into the kitchen in search of John. You found him, as usual, making tea and quietly began poking at Sherlock’s science equipment on the table, you’d always been interested in the oddly colored liquids he worked with and wondered briefly what would happen if you mixed two of the vials together. John happened to look up just as you got a wicked smile on your face and picked up a vial with something blue in it, “Put that down.”   You pouted in a slightly hoarse voice, “But it’s so pretty… and it would look prettier mixed with that.” You innocently pointed to a green vial, still holding the blue one in one hand, secretly hoping something cool and/or destructive would happen, and John leveled you with a glare, “Put it down. I already have Sherlock almost blowing up the flat on a regular basis and he knows what he’s doing. I don’t need you causing trouble too.” 

You pursed your lips unhappily, putting the vial back in its place reluctantly just as Sherlock came into the doorway. Your eyes went wide and you ducked behind John as he stepped forward to pick up the vial you’d just been holding, scrutinizing it in the light. 

He turned to say something to you but you were gone, having dashed out the door while he was otherwise distracted, and John just shrugged when he gave him an inquisitive look, “If you want to know how her mind works go ask her ‘cause I haven’t the foggiest.” You were sitting in John’s chair when he came into the living room, your knees pulled up to your chest as you took deep breaths, trying to reassure yourself that it was all just a dream. He could see you tense as he came into your peripheral vision and, instead of demanding you tell him why, he sat down across from you, opting to read you instead. You looked up at him, playing the little staring game that had become common between the two of you since that first day. You didn’t try to hide anything, he would always find out in the end so it was pointless to try and do so, and let your eyes take him in, facing your fears as best you could. He could see that you were afraid and his jaw clenched when he realized it was him the feeling was directed at, he went over his actions over the past couple of days trying to find a source for your fear and, coming up with none, came to the conclusion that he must have made an appearance in your nightmare. Your subconscious was making him a threat, why? What had you seen to make someone like you, uninhibited, brave, and a little crazy, so fearful of someone who just the day before you had shown more trust in than anyone aside from John? He must have triggered something by showing you a little more attention than he normally would. This is why we always run experiments appropriately he thought to himself, if he had kissed you there was no telling what unintended effects it may have had. He was surprised when, for the first time since he’d met you, you purposefully looked away from his gaze, burying your face in your knees with a shaky sigh. That was probably more telling to him than anything else you’d done, coupled with the fact that you jumped when John placed a hand on your back as he walked in, “You ok, Squeak?” You tilted your head to look up at him, “Yeah, Johnny. Just thinking.” “The nightmare again?” You didn’t answer, tucking your head back between your knees, and he sighed, “You can stay in my room while I’m gone if you’d like.” You were up like lightning, bolting towards the door, “Thank you, but no, John. I’ll be downstairs.” He looked after you with a little frown, “Maybe I should stay…” “Why? You can hardly protect her from her mind, John.” He knew Sherlock was right but he still wanted to, he felt so helpless, he hadn’t been able to protect you before and now you were here with him and he still couldn’t. It was aggravating. He took a deep breath to let go of his frustrations, maybe some time away would do the both of you some good. He would be able to process everything that had happened and you could come to terms with the fact you no longer had to hide things. A short while later you saw him off, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as you promised to at least try and stay out of trouble while he was gone before ducking back into your apartment. You toed some of the mess you’d made in your flat across the floor with a heavy sigh, sometimes your artistic side could be a pain as it was also the part of your personality that threw you into almost frantic fits of destruction when you were upset. You looked around. You’d pulled all your old sketchbooks from their place on one of your two large bookshelves and strewn them about, things you had tucked in them escaping to litter the floor. The corner you had set your easel up in was painfully empty as you had flattened the wooden structure and pushed it against the wall, tearing down the tarps to throw over it so you didn’t have to look at it. Your painting stool was toppled on its side and tubes of paint and brushes were tossed haphazardly on your couch and coffee table. The drafting table you used as a desk was tilted so nothing could sit on its surface and your papers, pens, pencils, and larger drawings were scattered on the floor next to it. You held your head in your hands, trying to get a hold of yourself before you destroyed something you couldn’t replace, and then sank down in your chair, feeling exhausted for some reason. Leaning back into it limply, you tried to go into your creative space to at least come up with a better way to handle your frustrations and uneasiness only to have your concentration rudely jarred as the door to your flat was flung open. You nearly toppled your chair backward as you jumped back, “Bloody hell, Sherlock! If you aren’t going to knock can’t you at least be gentle with the door?” His jaw went slightly slack as he took in the state of your flat and you got up to put the chair in between you and him, instinctively seeking a way to protect yourself. Your tone was slightly hostile as you softly asked, “Are you going to tell me what you want or do I have to guess?” “Tea,” he lied, knowing that at the moment you weren’t likely to call his bluff. Though annoyed you obliged, escaping to the kitchen with a slight sense of relief and leaving him to do what he did best, observe. If he had had any doubt as to your interest in him, it was squelched now as his eyes found not only the large sketches of him that had been stashed away on your drafting table but various drawings of him on things ranging from napkins to cardstock advertisements smattered across the floor. He stopped short of your couch when he spotted your current sketchbook on the coffee table, open to your most recent set of drawings. They were also of him but in a very different light than all the others, his face malevolent and his stance extremely threatening, and a couple had his hand raised in such a way that it was obviously going to make contact with the viewer. If Sherlock had ever felt like he had a heart, it was then as pain wrenched through his chest when he realized what you must have seen in your dream and in turn why you were avoiding him. He stepped over your mess and into the kitchen, watching you tense again as you sensed his presence before you took some deep breaths and mumbled to yourself about reality. You turned to offer him a weak grin and a cup of tea, which he accepted only to set down as he closed the gap between the two of you, trapping you between himself and the counter so you couldn’t dash away again. Your form went rigid as your brain fell back on its instincts for situations like this- you’d learned that fighting back would only cause more pain for you in the end, so you turned your cheek and steeled yourself what should come next. It never came. Instead, a hand gently wove its way into your hair, encouraging you to make eye contact with its owner, which you did, looking up at him through your lashes warily. His eyes looked pained and you tilted your head confusedly, forgetting your own potential pain in favor of wanting to stop whatever was causing his. Your fingers seemed to make their way to his sharp cheeks without your permission, taking his face in your hands as you breathed, “What’s the matter, Sherlock?” In response he brought his other hand up, causing you to flinch and pull your hands away from him as you internally cursed yourself for falling into a false sense of security. He brought his hand to your face cautiously, his touch as gentle and feather-light as he could manage as he shifted his other hand so he could cradle your cheeks, causing you to look up at him again as he said only one word, “Never.” You relaxed and he let his hands fall to his side before grabbing his tea and going back out to the living room to drop down in your chair. Standing there frozen for a few minutes, you recovered and went out to where he was to press a light kiss to his cheek as you murmured, “Thank you, Sherly.” A slight smirk crossed his face at his success and you plopped down on the floor to put everything back where it was supposed to be.

[gascon-en-exil]

FE16 Golden Deer Liveblogging

Chapters 6-10. Took a little longer this time - so many supports - but I still don’t have all that much to say actually. I think?

A trio of new paralogues with Deer characters, with two of them taking place on the same new map. The drawbridge gimmick reminds me of Archanea, but it’s not utilized much even for Ignatz and Raphael’s paralogue which requires you to help some merchants reach an escape spot. Lorenz’s is less remarkable, with just an early appearance by minor antagonist Acheron, but...

Thyrsus, the staff obtained from that paralogue, is gloriously broken. It immediately fixed the issues I’d had with Lysithea’s spell range and then some, turning her into even more of a monster. Her biggest problem now is how quickly she masters classes thanks to her personal skill, to the point where a few times she’s had to sit in a mastered class until either her level or her magic ranks caught up. I haven’t touched her budding sword talent, as I can safely assume it’s not worth it.

Hilda’s paralogue was more remarkable for what it reveals about Cyril’s complicated feelings for Almyra than anything to do with Hilda or House Goneril. As with Edelgard’s paralogue Holst remains unseen due to sudden illness - the guy just can’t catch a break.

Come Chapter 9 I realized I had no one in mind for dancer. Claude and Hilda have by far the highest CHA but are both destined for flying classes. When you think about it tactically dancer is best suited toward magic users who won’t be getting a mount - so, female ones. So much for all the praise over male dancers when they seem to be rarely if ever optimal for the role. I went with Marianne, wildly OOC and all.

Ignatz continues to be kind of weird, jumping between thief and swordmaster and soon enough dark bishop. He might end up a decent mortal savant after all. Raphael continues to be Dedue with a less reliable personal skill and no boyfriend.

Story/Character observations

Appropriately Claude is at the center of the biggest differences between this route and the other two, but my confidence in the quality of his scheming has gone down a bit. At this point he’s shared just enough with Byleth - his fascination with Relics, his suspicions about a church cover-up - but is still keeping his overall goals vague, and the result is that he comes off as a manipulative asshole who’s transparently using the professor for all their special qualities. Granted I’m enjoying that immensely, because there’s never been a lead character in FE quite like Claude before and I don’t care about Byleth’s nonexistent feelings in the slightest, but he can be terribly unsubtle. The worst is when he forces you via looping dialogue tree to have Byleth hand over their father’s diary so he can try to figure out what’s going on. And he the nerve in his support with Flayn to say he doesn’t take his secrets by force!

All in all though, Claude’s boundless capacity for prying is great for worldbuilding, something the Eagles and the Lions routes can be rather thin on by comparison, or rather too concentrated in specific areas.

I remember how they were introduced in pre-release, but in hindsight I don’t know why they tried to make it seem as though Lorenz was the second in command of the Golden Deer when it’s very clearly Hilda, who has the same speaking parts as Hubert and Dedue at relevant moments. I suppose technically Lorenz is a second in command in Alliance politics, albeit one who goes on to form a faction opposed to Claude. Neither of them are loyal enough not to jump ship to another house if sufficiently motivated, though.

Even after viewing his paralogue I’m still not feeling Raphael. He doesn’t sound like he’s deliberately ignoring the cause of his parents’ deaths to spare him and his family further retribution so much as he doesn’t think it’s important. He’s an alright character, just not a complex one. It doesn’t help either that I coincidentally unlocked his B support with Lorenz right after. Their support line doesn’t allude to the actions of the Gloucesters in the slightest, instead being yet another one about eating. *yawns*

So many of Lysithea’s early supports are her being appallingly rude for barely justified reasons. I like that this is never played off as cutesy and childlike, but it looks like in most of the later conversations this gets handwaved with her dark backstory. Too bad I probably won’t get the full story if it’s contained in the paralogue she shares with, er, Ferdinand?

The Claude/Ignatz supports are dumb and a good demonstration of how much Claude deserves the token heterosexual lord label so, so much more than Dimitri does. The guy just gets nothing to work with. In these two conversations Ignatz is fascinated with imagining what the goddess looks like (so..does that mural of her not exist in-universe?), while Claude is vaguely agnostic and suggests that Ignatz would like to sleep with the goddess. These topics - Claude’s views on religion, Ignatz’s artistic sensibilities and possible desire to fuck a religious figure - are so much better explored elsewhere, and just like with his supports with his other male housemates Claude has absolutely no chemistry here. Meanwhile he’s telling Flayn where she can find erotica and hitting it off on more normal terms with every other woman in reach.

Oh, and did I mention there is zero context for Claude dancing with Byleth at the ball? Nothing made of it before or after, and Claude doesn’t get a scene with Byleth before the tower either. This means that only Dimitri gets this extra scene, for one of the very few bits of Claumitri ship tease and for his backstory with Edelgard which the straight male side of this fandom seems determined to go Freudian with. 

Shamir’s supports with Deer characters include multiple instances of her throwing daggers at bugs. Weird, but now I get why one of her lost items is a sketch of a centipede.

[winterfellsandie]

Noah x Liv fanfic

I wrote a fanfic about noah and liv after THAT kiss that we’ve been waiting for so long. Hope you like it!!!

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

— Are you done? — asked Noah at the edge of dispair.

Liv wanted to shout that no, she wanted to complain about him, to emphasize all her defaults; but she noticed that those defaults were the culprits of her stomach butterflies since their first date. She’d begun to fall in love, and the more he knew him, the more she became interested in him.

She hesitated for a moment, remembering a past in which she promised herself that she would never fall in love again, thinking that no one could love her, believing that they would break her heart again. But it was a flash of his eyes, a simple but honest look at the edge of tears, what made her understand that there was still a possibility, someone could truly love her.

And this time, without hesitation, she ran to him, joined their faces and kissed him. After some seconds of shook, Noah followed the kiss with all the affection that he could offer, wanting to convey all the love that he felt for her. With that kiss he wanted to tell her that he would always take care of her, that he would never do anything that could harm her, that he would give everything for her.

Liv, on the other hand, felt relieved. All the butterflies had vanished, and her feelings were finally released, she was happy.

The lack of air separated them, but it didn’t prevent them from joining their foreheads, smiling as if they were the best thing that has happened to them in their lives. That euphoria made Noah lift her off the floor to catch her himself.

Never in their life had they been so happy.

Shortly after, Noah left liv again on the ground.

—¿What do you wanna do now? —asked her.

—I don’t really know, call me cliché, but I only want to be with you.

—You idiot…—said Liv, smiling.

He took her hand and pulled her to start walking.

Without letting go of her hands for a single moment, Noah decided to take her to a 24-hour café, full of neon lights and small details such as small plants and wooden tables that gave the place a very cozy appearance.

They sat facing each other at a table near a window, and now that it had started to rain, they could see the drops clearly. Noah took out a small notebook and a pencil and began to draw a tree observed through the window.

—Do you always carry a notebook on?

Noah faked a grimace of indignation.

—Don’t you always have the headphones on?

—Of course I do!

—Well, this is the same. My life is art, and yours is music— he answers, taking her hand and looking into her eyes—. Are you aware of everything we could do together?

Liv blushed and then called him an idiot. They both laughed until a waitress arrived to tend them. They asked for two coffees and a piece of cake to share.

Liv’s phone started to buzz in the back pocket of her jeans.

—Fuck, Isa —she picked up the phone quickly to tell her that she was fine, that she had gone home because she was tired. Her friend was so drunk that she believed it. She hung up and found Noah smiling.

—What.

—You’re so cute when you talk on the phone.

—You little piece of…— her insult was interrupted by the waitress, who had arrived with their order.

They took their food talking about trivial things while Liv looked at her cell phone and Noah drew in her notebook. Time flew by until 1:00 a.m. They decided to leave ten minutes later.

This time, Liv took him by the hand back her home. Shortly after leaving the local, she realized that it was getting cold. As if Noah read her mind, he took off his raincoat and put it on her back, holding it against his body to give her more heat.

—Where are we going, Liv?

—To my house.

After a moment of shook, Noah asked:

—What?

—You want to go yours? — said with sadness.

—What? No, of course not. It's just that I'm surprised you're going to let me into your house of your own free will.

Liv smiled inward, remembering the times she had denied him entry. And now she just wanted to get to his house to snuggle with him. She mentally hit himself for thinking like that and decided to invent something.

—Don’t be excited, Boom, if you sleep in my house today it's because I owe you. I stayed at your house last week and I do not want you to go to the other side of the city either.

—Oh, now you care about me. This relationship is progressing —he said with puppy eyes.

She hit his arm.

—Do not spoil something that has not started yet.

He decided to shut up, but he couldn’t help but keep throwing jokes the rest of the way.

As soon as they reached the apartment, Liv put the keys in the lock very gently; she didn’t want to wake up her colleagues. She opened and closed the door very quickly but careful not to make noise, and took Noah to her room.

—So, this is your room? —he said he said taking off his raincoat from her and leaving it in a chair in front of the mirror.

—Yes, well, it's not full of works of art but yes, it's my room. And now, I'm going to put on my pijamas. Don’t break anything please. And don’t make noise.

And as soon as she left the room, Noah ran his fingers over the photos that had been stuck all over the headboard wall. In one appeared a little Liv in front of the Sagrada familia, in Barcelona, accompanied by a couple, he supposed that they were their parents; another was from last year, with her friends at a party; but the one he liked the most was the one in the center, slightly larger than the rest, in which she appeared singing on a stage, smiling, and then decided that liv's smile was the prettiest smile he had ever seen.

A few minutes later, she appeared again in green pijamas and was wearing another pijama in his hand. He threw it on him.

—Here, it's Ralph's, I guess it'll work for you.

—Thank you. And you know what?

—Tell me.

—You are a liar.

—What? Why?

—You said you don’t have artwork in your room, but I'm seeing it —he replied pointing the mural on the wall.

Liv melted inside, but she decided not to show it, at least for now.

Noah pointed to the first photo he had seen.

—Is your family? —he asked.

—Yes, to say it somehow. My parents live in Barcelona and in that photo I was 8 years old. I had just bought a new sweater, and I was very happy —he sighed sadly.

—Do you miss Spain?

—Yes, but i’m going tomorrow.

—WHAT? AND YOU SAID IT NOW?

— I didn’t remember to be honest. Not that I'm excited to see my parents, but stop, I'm tired, put on the pijamas, I want to get in bed already.

Noah followed her orders and in less than two minutes he was in bed with her, face to face. Liv already had her eyes closed, but her expression had become sadder.

—Do you want to talk about it? He whispered softly.

His voice made her open her eyes, this time brightly with the tears against which she fought.

—Another day, Noah, please.

—Chill, I understand. But you know you don’t have to go through this alone, right?

She nodded. And he turned off the light. After a few minutes of silence, she was the one who spoke.

—Noah.

—Tell me.

—Can you turn up the light? I can’t sleep.

—Sure.

—I want to tell you something— said with her eyes still closed.

—Okay, but first look at this, I’d forgotten to give it to you.

He got up from the bed and fumbled in the pocket of the raincoat for his notebook. He tore off a sheet and handed it to Liv.

—Here you have. It's a little sketch of you talking on the phone. You were beautiful and I couldn’t help it.

—It's beautiful Noah, really.

This time it was she who got up from the bed, looking for tape on her desk. When she found it, she cut a piece and pasted the drawing on her mirror.

—Better. That is how I will remember this moment every day.

Liv went back to the bed and stood with her back to Noah.

—What did you want to say to me?

She sighed and began to speak, still on his back.

—Maybe I'm falling in love with you, Noah. I've lied to you before. I haven’t brought you here because of obligation. I wanted you, with me, cuddling here, like a couple of normal teenagers. I wanted you here because I know that today I will rest.

She turned and continued talking.

—I haven’t slept well for weeks, stress, anxiety, pressure, everything can with me. Do you know what was the only night I rested? When I slept with you. I felt ... well, secure, but I didn’t want to recognize it until now, because I have a past, and I don’t want it to be repeated. I'm sorry, by dragging you here, you can go if you want, really.

With watery eyes, Noah caught Liv's face and looked into her eyes.

—Look at me, Liv, I'm not leaving. I've been waiting for this moment since I met you. After being stupid and selfish you are here, telling me all this. Nobody has ever supported me like you do, and basically you are what matters most to me, because I don’t have anyone else. You are a wonderful person, and for whatever you need I’ll be here, I won’t separate from you, I really won’t.

He hugged her as he had never embraced anyone, as if in his arms he could protect her from all ills. He circled her with his arms, pulling her to him to kiss her and entwined his legs.

When they parted, he kissed her on the forehead snuggling, and Noah turned off the light.

At that moment they felt complete, they felt one.

[silent-era-of-cinema]

Ida Estelle Taylor (May 20, 1894 – April 15, 1958) was an American actress, singer, model, and animal rights activist. With "dark-brown, almost black hair and brown eyes," she was regarded as one of the most beautiful silent film stars of the 1920s.

After her stage debut in 1919, Taylor began appearing in small roles in World and Vitagraph films. She achieved her first notable success with While New York Sleeps (1920), in which she played three different roles, including a "vamp." She was a contract player of Fox Film Corporation and, later, Paramount Pictures, but for the most part of her career she freelanced. She became famous and was commended by critics for her portrayals of historical women in important films: Miriam in The Ten Commandments (1923), Mary, Queen of Scots in Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall (1924), and Lucrezia Borgia in Don Juan (1926).

Although she made a successful transition to sound films, she retired from film acting in 1932 and decided to focus entirely on her singing career. She was also active in animal welfare before her death from cancer in 1958. She was posthumously honored in 1960 with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in the motion pictures category.

Ida Estelle Taylor was born on May 20, 1894 in Wilmington, Delaware. Her father, Harry D. Taylor (born 1871), was born in Harrington, Delaware.[8] Her mother, Ida LaBertha "Bertha" Barrett (November 29, 1874 – August 25, 1965), was born in Easton, Pennsylvania, and later worked as a freelance makeup artist. The Taylors had another daughter, Helen (May 19, 1898 – December 22, 1990), who also became an actress. According to the 1900 census, the family lived in a rented house at 805 Washington Street in Wilmington In 1903, Ida LaBertha was granted a divorce from Harry on the ground of nonsupport; the following year, she married a cooper named Fred T. Krech. Ida LaBertha's third husband was Harry J. Boylan, a vaudevillian.

Taylor was raised by her maternal grandparents, Charles Christopher Barrett and Ida Lauber Barrett. Charles Barrett ran a piano store in Wilmington, and Taylor studied piano. Her childhood ambition was to become a stage actress, but her grandparents initially disapproved of her theatrical aspirations. When she was ten years old she sang the role of "Buttercup" in a benefit performance of the opera H.M.S. Pinafore in Wilmington. She attended high school[6] but dropped out because she refused to apologize after a troublesome classmate caused her to spill ink from her inkwell on the floor. In 1911, she married bank cashier Kenneth M. Peacock. The couple remained together for five years until Taylor decided to become an actress. She soon found work as an artists' model, posing for Howard Pyle, Harvey Dunn, Leslie Thrasher, and other painters and illustrators.

In April 1918, Taylor moved to New York City to study acting at the Sargent Dramatic School. She worked as a hat model for a wholesale millinery store to earn money for her tuition and living expenses. At Sargent Dramatic School, she wrote and performed one-act plays, studied voice inflection and diction, and was noticed by a singing teacher named Mr. Samoiloff who thought her voice was suitable for opera. Samoiloff gave Taylor singing lessons on a contingent basis and, within several months, recommended her to theatrical manager Henry Wilson Savage for a part in the musical Lady Billy. She auditioned for Savage and he offered her work as an understudy to the actress who had the second role in the musical. At the same time, playwright George V. Hobart offered her a role as a "comedy vamp" in his play Come-On, Charlie, and Taylor, who had no experience in stage musicals, preferred the non-musical role and accepted Hobart's offer.

Taylor made her Broadway stage début in George V. Hobart's Come-On, Charlie, which opened on April 8, 1919 at 48th Street Theatre in New York City. The story was about a shoe clerk who has a dream in which he inherits one million dollars and must make another million within six months. It was not a great success and closed after sixteen weeks. Taylor, the only person in the play who wore red beads, was praised by a New York City critic who wrote, "The only point of interest in the show was the girl with the red beads." During the play's run, producer Adolph Klauber saw Taylor's performance and said to the play's leading actress Aimee Lee Dennis: "You know, I think Miss Taylor should go into motion pictures. That's where her greatest future lies. Her dark eyes would screen excellently." Dennis told Taylor what Klauber said, and Taylor began looking for work in films. With the help of J. Gordon Edwards, she got a small role in the film A Broadway Saint (1919).nShe was hired by the Vitagraph Company for a role with Corinne Griffith in The Tower of Jewels (1920), and also played William Farnum's leading lady in The Adventurer (1920) for the Fox Film Corporation.

One of Taylor's early successes was in 1920 in Fox's While New York Sleeps with Marc McDermott. Charles Brabin directed the film, and Taylor and McDermott play three sets of characters in different time periods. This film was lost for decades, but has been recently discovered and screened at a film festival in Los Angeles. Her next film for Fox, Blind Wives (1920), was based on Edward Knoblock's play My Lady's Dress and reteamed her with director Brabin and co-star McDermott. William Fox then sent her to Fox Film's Hollywood studios to play a supporting role in a Tom Mix film. Just before she boarded the train for Hollywood, Brabin gave her some advice: "Don't think of supporting Mix in that play. Don't play in program pictures. Never play anything but specials. Mr. Fox is about to put on Monte Cristo. You should play the part of Mercedes. Concentrate on that role and when you get to Los Angeles, see that you play it."

Taylor traveled with her mother, her canary bird, and her bull terrier, Winkle. She was excited about playing Mercedes and reread Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo on the train. When she arrived in Hollywood, she reported to the Fox studios and introduced herself to director Emmett J. Flynn, who gave her a copy of the script but warned her that he already had another actress in mind for the role. Flynn offered her another part in the film, but she insisted on playing Mercedes and after much conversation was cast in the role. John Gilbert played Edmond Dantès in the film, which was eventually titled Monte Cristo (1922). Taylor later said that she "saw then that he [Gilbert] had every requisite of a splendid actor." The New York Herald critic wrote "Miss Taylor was as effective in the revenge section of the film as she was in the first or love part of the screened play. Here is a class of face that can stand a close-up without becoming a mere speechless automaton."

Fox also cast her as Gilda Fontaine, a "vamp", in the 1922 remake of the 1915 Fox production A Fool There Was, the film that made Theda Bara a star. Robert E. Sherwood of Life magazine gave it a mixed review and observed: "Times and movies have changed materially since then [1915]. The vamp gave way to the baby vamp some years back, and the latter has now been superseded by the flapper. It was therefore a questionable move on Mr. Fox's part to produce a revised version of A Fool There Was in this advanced age." She played a Russian princess in the film Bavu (1923), a Universal Pictures production with Wallace Beery as the villain and Forrest Stanley as her leading man.

One of her most memorable roles is that of Miriam, the sister of Moses (portrayed by Theodore Roberts), in the biblical prologue of Cecil B. DeMille's The Ten Commandments (1923), one of the most successful films of the silent era. Her performance in the DeMille film was considered a great acting achievement. Taylor's younger sister, Helen, was hired by Sid Grauman to play Miriam in the Egyptian Theatre's onstage prologue to the film.

Despite being ill with arthritis, she won the supporting role of Mary, Queen of Scots in Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall (1924), starring Mary Pickford. "I've since wondered if my long illness did not, in some measure at least, make for realism in registering the suffering of the unhappy and tormented Scotch queen," she told a reporter in 1926.

She played Lucrezia Borgia in Don Juan (1926), Warner Bros.' first feature-length film with synchronized Vitaphone sound effects and musical soundtrack. The film also starred John Barrymore, Mary Astor and Warner Oland. Variety praised her characterization of Lucrezia: "The complete surprise is the performance of Estelle Taylor as Lucretia [sic] Borgia. Her Lucretia is a fine piece of work. She makes it sardonic in treatment, conveying precisely the woman Lucretia is presumed to have been."

She was to have co-starred in a film with Rudolph Valentino, but he died just before production was to begin. One of her last silent films was New York (1927), featuring Ricardo Cortez and Lois Wilson.

In 1928, she and husband Dempsey starred in a Broadway play titled The Big Fight, loosely based around Dempsey's boxing popularity, which ran for 31 performances at the Majestic Theatre.

She made a successful transition to sound films or "talkies." Her first sound film was the comical sketch Pusher in the Face (1929).

Notable sound films in which she appeared include Street Scene (1931), with Sylvia Sidney; the Academy Award for Best Picture-winning Cimarron (1931), with Richard Dix and Irene Dunne; and Call Her Savage (1932), with Clara Bow.

Taylor returned to films in 1944 with a small part in the Jean Renoir drama The Southerner (released in 1945), playing what journalist Erskine Johnson described as "a bar fly with a roving eye. There's a big brawl and she starts throwing beer bottles." Johnson was delighted with Taylor's reappearance in the film industry: "[Interviewing] Estelle was a pleasant surprise. The lady is as beautiful and as vivacious as ever, with the curves still in the right places." The Southerner was her last film.

Taylor married three times, but never had children. In 1911 at aged 17, she married a bank cashier named Kenneth Malcolm Peacock, the son of a prominent Wilmington businessman. They lived together for five years and then separated so she could pursue her acting career in New York. Taylor later claimed the marriage was annulled. In August 1924, the press mentioned Taylor's engagement to boxer and world heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey.[36] In September, Peacock announced he would sue Taylor for divorce on the ground of desertion. He denied he would name Dempsey as co-respondent, saying "If she wants to marry Dempsey, it is all right with me." Taylor was granted a divorce from Peacock on January 9, 1925.

Taylor and Dempsey were married on February 7, 1925 at First Presbyterian Church in San Diego, California. They lived in Los Feliz, Los Angeles. Her marriage to Dempsey ended in divorce in 1931.

Her third husband was theatrical producer Paul Small. Of her last husband and their marriage, she said: "We have been friends and Paul has managed my stage career for five years, so it seemed logical that marriage should work out for us, but I'm afraid I'll have to say that the reason it has not worked out is incompatibility."

In her later years, Taylor devoted her free time to her pets and was known for her work as an animal rights activist. "Whenever the subject of compulsory rabies inoculation or vivisection came up," wrote the United Press, "Miss Taylor was always in the fore to lead the battle against the measure." She was the president and founder of the California Pet Owners' Protective League, an organization that focused on finding homes for pets to prevent them from going to local animal shelters. In 1953, Taylor was appointed to the Los Angeles City Animal Regulation Commission, which she served as vice president.

Taylor died of cancer at her home in Los Angeles on April 15, 1958, at the age of 63. The Los Angeles City Council adjourned that same day "out of respect to her memory." Ex-husband Jack Dempsey said, "I'm very sorry to hear of her death. I didn't know she was that ill. We hadn't seen each other for about 10 years. She was a wonderful person." Her funeral was held on April 17 in Pierce Bros. Hollywood Chapel. She was interred at Hollywood Forever Cemetery, then known as Hollywood Memorial Park Cemetery.

She was survived by her mother, Ida "Bertha" Barrett Boylan; her sister, Helen Taylor Clark; and a niece, Frances Iblings. She left an estate of more than $10,000, most of it to her family and $200 for the care and maintenance of her three dogs, which she left to friend Ella Mae Abrams.

Taylor was known for her dark features and for the sensuality she brought to the films in which she appeared. Journalist Erskine Johnson considered her "the screen's No. 1 oomph girl of the 20s." For her contribution to the motion picture industry, Estelle Taylor was awarded a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 1620 Vine Street in Hollywood, California.