#immediately got scared of my own personal project but looking at the sketches now motivated me again

[aria0fgold]

Looking at the sketches I made with the fresh set of eyes of today and honestly... It's pretty good??? Like the direction and everything mainly, like whoaa... I might actually be able to do this lil project then.

[artemismoon12writes]

Title: Gradients

Daltonfic Big Bang 2020: Week 2, Day 2: Soulmate AU “When was the last time you saw grey?” 

 “When was the last time you saw grey?”

The question took Dwight by surprise. For as long as he could remember, he’d seen in shades of grey. Grey skies with grey clouds; grey houses lining grey streets; grey trees, with grey shadows, underneath which his friend sketched a grey picture. He had known there was colour, his Uncle described it all in lurid details- the blues, the greens, the golds. Dwight knew if he had a favourite colour, maybe it would be red? Or purple? They seemed to have all the good things.

“You said I should use the other one. Dwight, green and red look the same in grey.” His hesitancy gave way to excitement, “This is amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

Reed had been making a still life for art class; Dwight beside him trying not to mess up on his own project. Dwight took a look at the pastels between the two of them; none of them were grey. They hadn’t been grey for ages; but Dwight hadn’t noticed. Muted purples in with a pale green, cut with shades of yellow and peach; Reed’s hands were covered in colours Dwight wouldn’t have been able to distinguish when he was a kid. But today, he could pick out the yellow against Reed’s blazer. When had that happened?

“You met your soulmate!” Reed almost sprang up, but hit his head on the tree trunk. Dwight caught his stumbling friend.

“I must have.” Dwight said cautiously.  

“Must have? You can see colours! I was so overwhelmed when it happened. It was just boom!” Reed gestured, his hands wild. “It was like, bye greyscale. How can you just guess?”

“I don’t know when it happened.” Dwight admitted, staring around them at Dalton’s grounds. He hadn’t noticed. How had he not noticed every fleck and gleam of colour around him? Had it snuck up on him? Every single story he had heard of soulmates described the rush of colour, flooding your vision as you met them, your soulmate. He’d even looked forward to it; he’d wanted to know who it was, the exact moment he’d found that person who would understand him like no one else.

Reed cut through his thoughts. “What do you mean, you don’t know? It’s, it changes everything? I mean, I didn’t think I’d find mine so early, but god Shane practically fainted when he saw colour. I get you may have wanted to keep it private, but, I can tell you the second it happened.”

“I didn’t notice.” Dwight admitted.

He hadn’t noticed. Oh god he hadn’t noticed. What kind of soulmate was he?

“So, you don’t even know who it is?” It dawned on Reed, with a soft look of pity. Dwight didn’t want that. Not from his friend.

“I, I have to go.”

Now that he was aware of it, Dwight couldn’t unsee it. Even his own clothes, purchased by his mother specifically so her son would never look like a mess; black came in so many shades. The shirt was slightly purple, a black verging on green, and grey laces that looked blue in comparison to that grey he had just assumed everything was.

How had he not seen it? When did it change? What changed? Who?

Who was it? Who was it that brightened a world without him even realizing it? No. He couldn’t have one. Not like this.

God it was a trick. It had to be. Some creature that could make it seem like he could see colours. He couldn’t have met his soulmate yet. They’d have mentioned it. It had to be like, a demon, or a fae- oh god what had he done to piss off a fae? Where was his iron? Where was the salt?

His jog turned into a run, scared as he hopped a hedge back to Windsor’s back door. He had to get to safety. There was something out there. His instincts must be so dulled from this spell. What else were they making him see? What else were they trying to fool him into believing?

The inside of Windsor was blue. So blue it hurt his eyes. He had to have noticed how blue it was. It was like a paint bomb went off. Maybe it did and it was another thing he didn’t notice- or was noticing only because of the fae. Shit. Shit!

Dwight sprayed his hand with holy water. Did that help? He threw some of the rock salt from his pocket over his shoulder. That didn’t help either. The rest of his supplies were in his room. He’d be safe there until he could figure this out.

Without a doubt, Dwight knew the world was grey that summer. Sadie’s tears, Lucas’s freckled arms, Morgan’s glasses- all stoney, clear grey when they enveloped him into the warmest hug when he made it back to them alive. Sadie had brushed his hair back, kissing his cheek. Lucas kept holding him when Morgan rambled on, more than he’d ever heard him speak at once. He couldn’t imagine what colours they all were. They’d been grey. What changed?

The stairs flew by, two at a time in a blur of blue and brown. He almost tripped staring at the colours beneath his feet. Why were things they walked on so bright? Who decided to make it all so loud and distracting?

David nearly slammed into him, Dwight had to throw himself against the wall before he bowled the other boy over. He could hear Wes yelling things at him as he rolled and continued; he had to get back to the room. He could figure things out back there. It was safe there.

Padlocks. He had padlocks. Oh iron ones even! Thank you Morgan, you mad genius. The door was unlocked when he got there, but he got to work immediately, diving into the closet to grab the box of locks and incense (labelled by creature it repelled). The lighter was out of his pocket as he started to wrestle with the bolts- no- no wait.

“Hi, what’s wrong this time?” Todd asked from behind him, barely fazed by the armful of supplies. He was leaning back on his chair- his… his grey chair.

“Was that chair always grey?” Dwight asked cautiously.  

Todd caught where he was staring, gaze travelling down then back up to Dwight. He couldn’t interpret what his roommate was thinking. He couldn’t usually though.

“Yes it was. I thought it looked good.”

“So you can see colour?” Dwight asked, clutching the padlocks to his chest. His hands were shaking. Maybe Todd could help. He could help him figure this all out.

Todd nodded slowly, expression unreadable. “For a while now.”

Dwight held his thoughts together. Okay. Okay. Padlocks first. Got to get this figured out. Todd already had a soulmate. Good. Maybe they’d be able to help break this curse. A tricky fae was the last thing he needed right now.

He felt Todd’s eyes on his back as he bolted the door closed. He took the lack of argument as acceptance they’d be locked in at least for the rest of the night. He had told his roommate to keep a supply of food in case of emergencies; he could only hope out of all the advice he’d given Todd, this would have stuck. He felt like he was the only one trying to keep people safe here. His advice wasn’t annoying! It was practical.

“Nails?” Todd asked, opening the window to disperse the strong smell of incense. It was fine for it to go outside; let the fae know he would not be intimidated.

Dwight turned, the iron nails nearly all lined up at the foot of the door. “I think a fae’s cursed me.”

“Really?” Todd sat back down. The window helped, but there was no crosswind to help it along. The writer’s expression was pensive. Dwight assumed that meant explain.

“Yeah.” Dwight set the last nail in place, lining the whole thing with salt. He was nearly out of his supply. Oh what a time! “I can see colours. I think a fae is messing with my perceptions; its either that or a demon, but a demon would have clearer motives.”

“You found your soulmate?” Todd sounded worried.

“No.” Dwight said firmly, standing up and closing the door to the closet. “They’re messing with my mind. I would know if I met them; I wouldn’t just, not?”

The last bit was bitter in his mouth. Because what if he didn’t? No! Besides, the only new people he’d met that term were the freshmen. And they all treated him the same as any other upperclassmen. You’d think if it was one of them the gossip would have spread. They were the worst secret keepers ever. Not a single prank on Stuart had gone right since they started babbling to anyone who’d listen. It was a trick. A nasty trick.

“So it just happened today?” Todd asked.

Dwight shook his head. “I can’t remember when it started. But, I know for sure when I was home in the summer it was all grey.”

“Huh.” Todd said, arms slumped over the armrests of his chair. “Weird.”

Dwight looked around the room; chair aside, everything was still kind of grey in the room. His own side was more colourful than Todd’s for godssake or else he’d suddenly think the curse had lifted. He could see the brightness of the plaid on his Supernatural poster; the jewel colours of his books; the little rainbows that the crystals threw from the daylight on them. Todd’s side in contrast was dull; muted hues with barely a shade to them. Maybe he’d just not changed it up since he found his soulmate; but, he’d had this stuff for ages. Morgan always vowed he’d dress like a clown as soon as he found his soulmate- why only use greys if you could appreciate so much more?  

He heard himself speaking, “When did you start seeing in colour?”

Todd smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were a hazel-green. He’d known that. How did he know that? “That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think?”

“I’m trying to figure it out.” Dwight said, sitting down on his bed with the incense burner, holding it out like the teak would protect him. “Everyone says you see your soulmate, and everything is suddenly focused. That’s how it was for Reed and Shane- they knew right away.”

“It’s a little more complex than that.” Todd said, turning back to his laptop.

“Are you talking about broken connections?” Dwight asked. He’d heard about one-way connections. People shrieking in delight as colour flooded their vision, only to have the other stare at them confused. That had happened to his Uncle Ford. He’d gotten over it, but there was a reason he’d never married. There were a lot of exceptions, like three-way connections, potential connections, or the complication of natural colour-blindness; but his mother said he would never have to worry about it because he and his soulmate would know the moment they laid eyes on each other. But, a broken connection… did that happen to Todd?

“Maybe.” Todd admitted. “It might have happened to you.”

“I’m under a curse. At least since the start of term.” He said, pensive over the possible fae candidates.

“Then I’ve been under a curse since freshman year.” Todd said, starting to type; like he wasn’t really interested in the conversation. He couldn’t hide the regret in his voice, creeping through the nonchalance. “I saw… I saw him when he arrived at Windsor, and I have to say I didn’t expect it. But, well, even after getting to know him he still saw grey.”

“Who was it? Do I have to kick their ass?” Dwight sprang up, “I bet they’re the fae! No way you don’t have a two-way bond! You’re awesome!”

Todd paused, looking away. “Yeah, no. I don’t think it’s them.”

“Well then, I’ll get Sadie to curse them! Or I’ll find the real fae; they’re probably holding your soulmate’s colour hostage.” Dwight declared. “It’s probably something like that.”

Todd shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ve got everything under control. I’ve got these contacts; they make it all-”

“No! It’s not fair.” Dwight knelt down next to Todd’s desk. “Whoever is doing this to you, I promise I’ll figure it out. Because I refuse to believe you have a broken connection. It’s not right! You deserve someone who cares about you; who gets you like a soulmate is supposed to. That’s the whole point! So whenever you’re lonely, there’s someone you can go to. Or whenever you’re happy, there’s someone who can make you laugh even louder. Or whenever you’re scared, they’re there to make you feel brave. And like, you do that all for me and you’re just my roommate- whoever they are, they’re missing out!”

Todd stared at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“What?” What. What?

Todd looked between mad and frustrated, raising his hands from the keyboard before closing the lid. “Just, ah, just leave me alone okay? I don’t want to talk about it. If you’re convinced this is a fae, you have Trinny’s email. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But-”

“I don’t want to talk!” Todd snapped, grabbing his laptop and going into the washroom. “If you want to pee, go out the window for all I care.”

The lock clicked. Dwight looked between the open window and the two locked doors. What had he said?

No matter. He had a fae to hunt. Whoever Todd’s soulmate was, he would have to wait to put them on Sadie’s curse list until after he got the colour out of his eyes. He took another look at the greys of Todd’s side, a soothing balm of soft colourlessness in the confusion; it really was almost like he could see greys again; remember any loneliness was not permanent. He’d find his real soulmate, and so would Todd. He was sure of it.

[jarienn972]

The Right Place - Chapter 11

I’m still trying to get my Tumblr posts for this story all caught up to AO3 and FF.net but I’m still a little behind.  I’ve been trying to write in my spare time and have some additional chapters ready for editing so I needed to get the next one up. This chapter finally introduces the previously mentioned Sgt. Haviland as he becomes an integral part of the investigation which is staring to come together.

From the beginning on Tumblr:  Prologue/One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten

Wednesday morning, Municipal Parking Garage

Emma wasn't at all surprised to be meeting with Sgt. Havilland in a parking garage. It wasn't the first time she'd met a contact in one since typically city garages were secured, offered surveillance of those coming and going yet still provided enough privacy to discuss the details of a case without a ton of potential eavesdroppers. As she and McCallen entered this garage's almost derelict elevator, she definitely noticed the change in the deputy's anxiety level. He'd unloaded a huge personal burden earlier which she'd fully accepted without pity or judgement and maybe that acceptance was now helping boost his fledgling confidence. He was all business when they stepped out of the elevator on the rooftop level where Emma almost immediately spied the unmarked dark blue Ford parked directly across the ramp from where they stood. The tall, lanky man waiting beside the vehicle didn't particularly strike her as a cop, his appearance more akin to a prep school administrator as he stood there in a slightly oversized tweed sport coat with matching pants and a bright white starched Oxford shirt. The caramel hue of his ill-fitting suit nearly matched the color of his deeply tanned skin.

"How much do you know about this guy?" Emma asked McCallen as they crossed the uppermost level of the garage toward their Police Department colleague.

"We've talked a few times, but I've never met with him in person. I do know he's a good guy though and he's a good cop. I'm quite confident he'll be able to help us with this case."

"I sure hope so," she muttered quietly. "And I hope he doesn't plan to take over…" she added as Haviland strolled around to the front of his car to meet them.

"Deputy McCallen. Sheriff Jones," he smiled, extending his hand in greeting. "John Haviland, Portland PD," he introduced himself formally as he shook hands first with Emma, then with the deputy.

"It's nice to finally meet you in person, Sergeant," McCallen replied, "especially now that our joint investigation got a lot more complicated."

"Yes, indeed," Haviland stated. "That would be an understatement." He gave the deputy a polite smile before turning to Emma. "Sheriff, I do hope that your husband's condition is improving?"

"It is. He's anxious to go home, but first he wants to make sure that the men who put him in that hospital room are brought to justice."

"That's certainly what I hope to do," Haviland assured her, unconsciously raking his fingers through his jet black hair as a breeze blew it over his forehead. He had to make a decision about how to broach the subject of their new suspect and chose to dive right in with a very straightforward statement. "McCallen mentioned that your husband identified Donovan Donleavy as the person who assaulted him."

"He saw Donleavy's photograph in today's paper and positively identified him," McCallen added for clarification before Emma could respond.

"He could pick Donleavy out of a line up if it came to that?" the sergeant questioned.

"Definitely," Emma stated emphatically, hands at her hip and elbows thrust out in a defiant pose, clearly irritated that Haviland wasn't convinced that Killian had identified the man who stabbed him. "Trust me – Killian never forgets the face of someone who's crossed him."

"I believe you, Sheriff," Haviland stated, noting the frustration evident in her voice. "This sure looked like just a botched robbery, but it sure isn't sounding that way any longer." He leaned back against the front bumper of his car as he pondered the facts. "Donleavy is the owner of a large construction company… What's in this for him? Stabbing a random stranger doesn't seem to fit any business plan I've ever encountered…"

"My husband overheard him saying something to one of those wanna be robbers that they were supposed to abduct Jean Scott. Killian just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time and disrupted the plan with a single gold coin." Emma explained the potential motive that her husband had laid out with his description of Sunday afternoon's events.

"Jean Scott? The coffee shop owner they tried to rob?" the sergeant asked for clarification.

"Yes," she replied. "It sounds to me like they were out to scare her but we don't know why."

"Have you asked her about any personal or professional history with Donleavy or Leviant Construction?" Haviland inquired, curious himself what connection the two individuals might have.

"Not yet," McCallen responded this time. "I'm meeting with her in about an hour."

Haviland absentmindedly scratched his nose as he continued to contemplate the complexity of their case and the new angle that this information provided, his dark eyes lighting up as he was reminded of a little fact that could be relevant.

"I recall reading something recently about Donleavy's company being one of the bidders in the contract battle to build the new Portland ferry terminal. The city planning commission isn't scheduled to vote on it for a couple of weeks but maybe this is part of some ploy to tip the scales in his favor? A little land grab of surrounding properties?" He was speculating out loud but Emma was nodding in full agreement.

"Ms. Scott did mention offers to buy her shop, but she wasn't intending to sell," she offered, adding credence to his theory.

"Hiring two anonymous men to rob and possibly abduct her would seem to be taking things a bit too far, but this is big business here. That terminal contract is worth millions," Haviland informed them. "I've got a few connections over at City Hall. Let me go see what I can dig up about the terminal project and the bid process. In the meantime, I'd like to know what you learn from Ms. Scott. If she's been harassed by Donleavy in the past, we might be able to better define the possible motive."

"Certainly, Sergeant," McCallen insisted. "I'll turn over all of my case notes as soon as I return from our meeting."

"Good. Do we have any other evidence to back this up though or just Mr. Jones' witness account?" Haviland wondered.

"Right now, just his account," the deputy answered. "I have a call in to the harbormaster to see if the partial vessel name that Mr. Jones was able to provide matches any craft owned by Donleavy and if it happened to be docked there Sunday morning. If we find the boat, maybe we can find traces of Mr. Jones' blood or his fingerprints to corroborate his story…?"

"You may be getting a bit ahead of yourself, Deputy," Haviland warned. "We'd have to get a warrant to search the vessel and even assuming we do, Donleavy likely cleaned up any potential evidence. We're going to need a lot more than the word of a wounded man from out of town to make this case." Emma hated to admit it as she set her jaw in frustration, but Haviland was correct. They needed more evidence before they could make a direct accusation. "Sheriff, did your husband happen to see the faces of the two masked men who took him hostage or only Donleavy's?"

"He managed to pull the mask off of one of them before he was stabbed," Emma replied. "And punched the other one hard enough to leave a black eye as nasty as the one he's sporting."

"I'm awaiting a call back from our sketch artist to see if we can get a composite put together," McCallen added. "Just haven't heard back from her yet, but of course, it's still early today."

"That's a good place to start," Haviland agreed. "Did your husband give any indication that Donleavy and the masked bandits might know each other?"

"I certainly got that impression from the way Killian described their interaction. They didn't sound like strangers, but we don't know for sure," she said.

"You know – maybe we should take a look at Leviant Construction employees too. Maybe he found someone within his own ranks to do some of his dirty work? I think I can do an employee database search without raising too many red flags. We might even have DMV photos on file that your husband can take a look at and see if anyone looks familiar."

"You're thinking Donleavy might have given a little sidework to one or more of his employees? Intimidate someone who might not have been willing to sell to him…?" Emma quickly caught on to Haviland's thought process.

"Precisely," was Haviland's response. "I'll get back in touch with you either later today or first thing tomorrow and we'll compare notes."

"Sounds good to me," Emma responded, knowing full well that they had a lot of ground to cover. "Appreciate you keeping us as part of the investigation."

"Why wouldn't I?" Haviland chuckled. "You know how difficult it is to bring another detective up to speed? You already have a rapport with one of our witnesses and you're married to the other. I'd much rather work with someone who already knows what's going on. Just remember to do your best to keep things under the radar or we may find ourselves in a whole heap of trouble…"

Portland Medical Center

Sgt. Havilland drove away in his department-issue Ford, vanishing down the ramp as his colleagues stepped back inside the waiting elevator. Emma knew they had a whole list of new questions for Jean Scott but first she needed to find and chat with Regina because she needed a few favors and hopefully, the Queen would be in a cooperative mood. Asking McCallen to give her half an hour or so to sort out a few things with her family, she hurried upstairs while texting Henry to find out if Regina was even here yet. He rapidly responded with a yes and a message that they were in the lounge on the opposite end of the floor from Killian's room - but where all of the vending machines were located.

Emma rounded the corner from the elevator bank to find mother and son seated in a pair of matching taupe faux leather armchairs – Henry with a paper cup of hot chocolate in his hands and Regina taking a dainty sip of whatever the machine was attempting to pass off as coffee. The Queen surprisingly looked more casual than usual today wearing only a pair of black wool slacks and a ruby red cashmere pullover instead of her more businesslike attire and Emma hoped that along with the softened exterior would come a willingness to help them out.

"Regina – thank you for coming down here to get Henry," Emma said upon entering the visitor lounge.

"It was the least I could do," Regina replied. "Like I told him yesterday, you've got enough to worry about…"

"That's certainly a gross understatement…," Emma sighed. "Hey, Kid – could I have a few minutes for a mom's conference here?"

"Yeah, sure," the teen responded, noticeably nervous that he would likely be the subject of the conversation.

"Why don't you go back down to the room?" Emma suggested.

"But Killian isn't back yet…," he reminded her.

"That's fine. You can be there when he does get back," she said to which her son simply shrugged, stood up and headed toward the opposite end of the building without further argument.

"So, what else did he do besides disobeying you yesterday morning?" Regina wondered.

"Nothing. Henry's been fine. What I needed to talk to you about has nothing to do with him."

"What then?" Regina said, her face reflecting both confusion and a little annoyance.

"Do you have any way to get in touch with Ursula?" Emma asked straightforwardly causing Regina to nearly choke on a mouthful of coffee.

"Can you repeat that?" the Queen asked her, bewildered by the out of the blue request.

"Is there any way you know of to reach Ursula?" Emma repeated her question.

"Why on Earth would you need to get in touch with the Sea Witch?" Regina scoffed. "Last I heard, she was still making amends with Daddy…"

"Killian swears that she rescued him when he nearly drowned."

"Just how long was that Pirate of yours deprived of oxygen?"

"Regina, I don't think he's making it up, but I want to try to talk to her anyway… I mean, if she did save him, why didn't she let me know somehow? She plucked him out of the water but then just left him alone on that beach to bleed to death?"

"Well, if the witch…," Regina started voicing her reply, then stopped herself as a nurse strode by. "…if Ursula found him," she continued in a more hushed tone, "maybe she had her own motives for not coming to tell anyone, but honestly, its probably a lot more likely that your husband hallucinated the whole thing."

"Which is precisely why I want to ask Ursula if she had anything to do with it. I'm sure there has to be some magical method of contacting her and if there is – you'd be someone I'm sure would know how…"

"There's a conch shell back in Storybrooke that can be used to summon her. I believe your husband was actually the last to use it but I think it was returned to my vault. I'll see if I can locate it when I get back. What am I supposed to do if I find it though?"

"Summon her and see if she'll be willing to meet me somewhere here in Portland?"

"Fine. I'll have Henry help me search for the shell tonight."

"Great. Thanks," Emma smiled. "I just need one more small favor…"

"Another favor?" Regina asked with a hint of disdain.

"I just need you and Henry to stick around a little bit longer. I need to go talk to the store owner where Killian was abducted but I don't want him to be left here alone and I can't exactly get a message to him right now to tell him where I'm going… Do you think you would be able to stay here for maybe another hour or two?"

"You want me to babysit the pirate?"

"I want you to be there when he gets back from Radiology and then keep him company for a few minutes – and by the way, please don't say the P word so loudly around here. No one here knows about that…."

"Fine – but no more than two hours. I've got to be back before 2PM because I have a spa date with my sister"

"Thank you. I'll definitely be back in less than two hours so you'll make it to your mani-pedi appointment in plenty of time."

Wednesday afternoon, Portland Harbor

A day after their first visit, things appeared a little less chaotic at Scott's Mart. While her CLOSED sign still hung on the front door, a hand lettered message was posted above it which stated Reopening Thursday. Inside, the shelving that the shop owner had been replacing yesterday was repaired and fully restocked in preparation to return to normal business. As Emma and McCallen approached the entrance, they could see Jean Scott atop a stepladder, busy replacing a burned out spotlight over her cash register. McCallen knocked forcefully on the glass door to draw her attention, waving when Jean glanced over to see what the racket was.

"Hang on a sec…," Jean shouted, giving the pair she'd met yesterday a smile and a wave back at them. She finished twisting the new bulb into place before backing down the ladder and hurrying over to unlock the door. "Sorry – lost track of time a bit while I tried to finish up a few more things around here so I can get this place back open tomorrow. I've lost too much money already this week staying closed but it took me a while to decide I was ready to get back to normal."

"Well, we're sorry to bother you again, Ms. Scott," McCallen began, "but a few more questions have arisen and we really need some additional clarification from you."

"Sure," Jean replied, inviting the sheriff and deputy inside. "C'mon in. I'm not sure if I'll have the answers for you, but you're welcome to ask."

"Thank you," Emma spoke up. "We're hoping you can shed some light on a potential motive for Sunday's events that my husband hinted at when he gave us his account of what happened."

"So he's okay?" Jean asked, momentarily interrupting Emma, but her concern for the man who'd possibly saved her life was genuine. "Was he able to fill in some of the blanks I couldn't help with?"

"Yes, he woke up yesterday afternoon and while he's nowhere near 100%, he's going to be okay," Emma replied. "His memory is still a little spotty but he did remember hearing the men who attacked him discussing you. Apparently, part of their plan was to kidnap and intimidate you. The so-called robbery may have been just a ruse to get to you."

"Me?" Jean asked incredulously, surprised by Emma's statement. "Why would someone want to kidnap me? Wouldn't have gotten them anything… I don't know anyone who'd have paid any type of ransom…"

"We don't think this had anything to do with money," McCallen explained. "Well, at least not in that respect."

"When we were here yesterday, you mentioned that you'd been receiving a lot of unwanted offers to sell," Emma jumped in, elaborating on McCallen's statement.

"Yeah, I've had quite a few," Jean responded, "especially since it was announced that the city was planning to rebuild the ferry terminal. A lot of the city planners would love to see this end of the harbor redeveloped to be trendier and have more tourist appeal but there are a lot if people out there who rely on little local shops like mine or places Mac's down the road. A few businesses caved and sold, but a few of us are hanging in there for the locals – the fishermen and dock workers who are slowly running out of options."

"Have you encountered anyone who's been particularly aggressive?" Emma wondered.

"Oh, sure – there have been a few pushy ones who keep coming by with offers but I'd have to say the most obnoxious has been Leviant. They bought up the empty lot over there a month ago," she said while stabbing a finger to the left. "I've heard similar stories from a few others around here that they've been aggressively trying to buy up additional properties."

"Leviant Construction?" McCallen asked for clarification.

"That's the one," Jean replied. "I've read in the paper that they'll likely win the contract to build the new terminal, but it's half a block from here. There has to be something else in the works or why else would they want to buy up a bunch of old businesses?"

"Why is definitely the big question here," Emma said as she leaned back against the counter next to the cash register thinking out her next question. "Ms. Scott, how many other businesses here on the harbor front have been approached by Leviant – what's your best guess?"

"I don't know for sure. There aren't a lot of us left… I know Mac was for sure and maybe the Smiths down at the boat rental shop. They're close to retirement age though and their kid moved to Texas so he doesn't want to take over the business. They might have already sold." Jean scratched at her chin as pieces started to fall into place for her. "You think the robbery attempt on Sunday was someone trying to strong arm me into selling and you might just be right…"

"We're thinking that was their intent," Emma began, "but my husband managed to mess up their plans."

"They sure seemed like they were after money – especially the way they jumped at his offer of gold really quick," Jean said, reminding Emma that the shop owner didn't yet know about the third man involved because they hadn't known that bit of information yesterday.

"Well, the two who busted into your place weren't working alone," Emma revealed. "There was another man involved – the one who was calling the shots and the one who stabbed my husband. Killian saw his face before they threw him overboard and this morning, he identified that man from a photograph in the newspaper but we needed some corroboration from you that you'd had dealings with our suspect…"

"I can't believe this is for real," Jean sighed. "Someone tried to kill your husband because they want my little piece of real estate?" She was struggling to grasp how her property might be worth a man's life… "I can't believe that someone could stoop so low or be that desperate to try to frighten me into selling."

"Unfortunately, it seems someone would stoop that low," McCallen responded this time, "and so far, every finger is pointing back to Leviant Construction, but it's all just circumstantial right now."

"Damn…," Jean sighed. "I had no idea…" The tough-talking blonde was suddenly wavering, her composure cracking as she realized that she could have been the one who had ended up tossed into the bay to perish. "Mr. Donleavy has been by here several times and I mean, he's a pompous ass, but I never thought my land was worth killing over… He's the one though, isn't he?"

"We think so," Emma answered. "When was the last time you had any interaction with Mr. Donleavy or anyone from Leviant?"

"Thursday before last," Jean replied. "The city planning commission was down here holding a press conference about the ferry terminal revitalization as they called it and Mr. Donleavy came around with yet another offer to buy my shop. I told him once again that I wasn't interested in selling and tore up his offer envelope. He said I'd change my mind soon."

"Sounds like a bit of a threat," McCallen chimed in. "Did you tell anyone what he'd said to you?"

"Who would I tell?" the shop owner replied with a shrug. "No one overheard it and honestly, until today, I thought it was just posturing on his part. He doesn't seem the type who likes to take no for an answer, but he didn't intimidate me – at least not then."

"Well, we know about the threat now, Ms. Scott," the deputy stated. "I'll talk to the Sheriff about stepping up patrols around the harbor for the next few days, but we'd really like for you to try to go about business as usual. If you have any contact from Donleavy or anyone else from Leviant Construction, I want you to call me immediately. It won't be easy to build a case against him unless we can catch him making a mistake and while I can't say with 100% certainty that he's behind this, its highly likely and we don't want you to be caught off guard."

"I really want to hope you're wrong," Jean sighed, "but I can't convince myself of it. I just can't believe someone could be so awful…"

"I've seen people stoop a lot further for even pettier interests," Emma lamented.

"Well, when you catch the son of a bitch, punch him straight in the face for me," Jean said with a smirk. "I'll leave the rest for you and your husband to decide."

[saskyaolsen2-0]

Midpoint Evaluation

Introduction

Since the beginning, I knew that I wanted to follow in the footsteps of last year’s final outcome, but I was confused on how I could show the creative maturity I had waded through since that year ago, I was scared to produce the same thing. Along with this, what practice did I want to use? How was I going to link my work to concept design?

The first five weeks of this project predominantly focused on research, with design close behind; I needed to discover the core idea for this final major project. I aimed to uncover the mechanics of process through reading and analysis, as well as professional observation. Another important aim was the assessment criteria, and how I was going to ensure that it was included in all tasks completed. In order to have a successful first five weeks, I knew that I had to understand what my priorities were, as I would then understand what to work towards.

I was unable to see the outcome possibilities whilst feeling so confused and overwhelmed, but I was able to extract my ambitions and work towards those, which was an ideal starting point.

Step by step, weeks 1 to 5

Prior to week 1, I started making some foundations for stage 3 by carrying out an artist research exercise. I also used a holiday trip as an opportunity to collect reference imagery and reflect on the experience through written work. This preliminary basis of work allowed me to discover the headspace I needed to be in early-on, making the work I produced in week 1 more effective, as I had already broken-in the context of my project. I felt empowered in week 1, because I had given myself a head start.

Unfortunately, this feeling didn’t last long; with no outcome idea to give me motivation, I soon fell into a slump. Looking back, I still admire the blind research frenzy carried out during the whole of week 1; the volume of pages I was accumulating was reassuring, and I know that there’s no such thing as too much research! This uncertain period also introduced me to the power of book research, which was thoroughly unexplored in my other projects. Initially, I didn’t trust any novels unrelated to my interests, but I soon discovered how much you can learn by independently applying ideas to your own practices.

The beginning of week 2 was a similar situation as I still had no solid idea. I found peace by simply trusting the process, focusing on idea building and seeing where research lead me. I began feeling braver and ventured into new territory such as the exploration if Adobe Fuse. I would have immediately pushed this workshop aside in the past, but I found the software rejuvenating and I was able to identify the character creation potential in this newly found programme. My open-minded attitude kept consistent after this, allowing me to read ‘Modernism in Scandinavia’ even if it was relatively unrelated to my project. Through this book, I learnt about Icelandic folklore, which helped me write my project realisation, an important milestone for my outcome idea and the most successful piece of work from week 2.

The pace quickened in week three, as I had a new and exciting idea about Icelandic mythology to be explored. I haven’t applied my interests in Scandinavia to any other projects for this course, so my research ideas were bursting at the seams. I quickly realised how much I loved the stereotypical styles depicted through Nordic landscape art, and I knew it was something to use for my outcome because of how immersed I felt for the subject. Applying knowledge to an idea made me feel self-assured; my hesitation at the possibility of my Folklore idea being childish faded as I was demonstrating factual writing alongside my fantasy design work. I reminisced on the doors that Adobe Fuse had previously opened for me, so I got to work making some very basic composition ideas in photoshop.

To my relief, week 4 propelled faster than 3, as I assuredly created a solid storyboard draft and began linking my Amsterdam trip to this project. I was finding puzzle pieces from all kinds of sources, each coming together to help strengthen my ideas on Iceland and its ‘Landvaettir’ folklore story. The two main characters took shape, a giant and a young boy. I was surprised at the method in which these characters were generated; they seemed to just narrate the story the most effectively…a dystopian Icelandic universe where the battle between metal and nature is prevalent in the landscape. I quickly continued on with as much design work for these two new people as possible. As the pace of the project process quickened, I noticed how ‘natural’ the base ideas have been discovered; I just focus on what feels right and fix any flaws along the way. A level of understanding arose in week four, allowing me to find my core ideas and storyline. I confidently worked with cinematography as well as drawn art.

Week 5 was all about ideas finally taking shape; using Fuse and Photoshop for my original ideas and turning thoughts into visual representations. I took a more in-depth look at anatomy, aided by the whiteout tasks I completed at the start of the ‘concept design’ pathway. I turned my character feature designs into a science by focusing on a single limb or characteristic through pencil drawings. Both my characters and environments came to life this week, as I also completed my first digital scene in preparation for my video outcome. This was an extremely significant part of the week as it showed how far I had come since week 1; I had finally accumulated enough self-made resources to happily create a scene including characters and architectural features. I left week 5 extremely proud from the achievements I had started to tick off my mental list. I worry slightly over the time I have left, but all I can do is work efficiently and ensure my work sticks to the key seven assessment criteria topics and to my personal main focuses.

 Strengths, Weaknesses + the unexpected

Within these first five weeks, my strongest piece of work has overwhelmingly been my first digital art scene. This piece of imagery sticks out from the rest of my journal and sketchpad work not only because of the skills and ideas it expresses, but also because of the significance it holds. Within five weeks, I have turned a bewildering project prospect into a concept with enough dimension to create its own atmospheric video, which is now being realised. I can also confidently say that all of the work holding this image aloft has religiously kept to the assessment criteria, from context to presentation.

In contrast, my weakest piece of work has been my filmed work, simply because it hasn’t been shown enough! Within this first half of the project, I have only managed to generate three strong filmed clips on my Tumblr and a single edited experiment, which makes me feel disappointed. In week 6 and onwards, this needs to drastically increase in productivity since these elements of work will be just as prominent as my drawn imagery within the final video. Even if I showcase very basic filmed examples, there needs to be more.

To me, the most unexpected element of my work so far is extremely obvious. This has been the surprisingly useful resource that reading is to my project! I now understand how naïve I was to reading in past, as I have picked up on so much knowledge missed by online research only.  Reading ‘Modernism in Scandinavia’ is also the sole reason I discovered the ‘Landvaettir’ folklore story originating from Iceland, which was from a book that initially didn’t relate to my project at all! I have since learnt my lesson and analysed a book each week, presenting my findings in my journal.

 Looking ahead

With a solid idea to work with, I can now focus completely on creation. Along with my final video outcome, I would like to work with my sketchpad more frequently; this was supposed to showcase my ideas in their ‘rawest format’, but this has been neglected since week three. I would like to make up for lost drawings and mind mapping! This sketchpad is also a good stress reliever and mental organiser, a diary of expression using sketching, all the more reason to make use of this document again.

Along with this, my formal folder needs to start filling up, another documentation of work mentioned in my project proposal. My best photos along with official concept art, storyboards and digital art stills should be compiled in one place as a professional folder. This will work as a clear and organised place to present my strongest work and also demonstrate my project process.

The overall objective looking forward is to start compiling my work. Getting organised now will free up time closer to my deadline, reducing stress and the possibility of rushing with work.

 Conclusion

These first five weeks have certainly been a journey; my feelings of bewilderment have turned into an abundance of ideas for an outcome set to meet my project proposal ambitions and overtake last year’s project as my favourite piece of work. My decision to focus on both film and digital art as well as editing ensures I am contempt at the methods showcased in this final major project, I can demonstrate all that I have learnt in the last year. Through watching professionals and researching into my influencers (along with many other aspects) I have uncovered my core idea and made huge strides towards its creation. I also have a new-found belief in my natural working tactics and methods which have helped me identify strengths and key ideas in my confusion, and turn them into an outcome idea.  I feel extremely happy with where I am moving into week 6, I need to stick with this pace to ensure success!