#lusk asks

[princesssarisa]

One of the most fascinating pieces of movie analysis I've ever read is J.B. Kaufman's thesis of the "two different Snow Whites" in Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

He writes about this in both of his two books on the making of the movie, The Fairest One of All and its companion piece Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: The Art and Creation. His argument is that Snow White's two leading animators, Hamilton Luske and Grim Natwick, each gave Snow White a slightly different personality when they drew her. A close look at the movie, and knowledge of who animated which moments, reveals subtle differences in Snow White's expressions and body language. Luske, her head animator who handled the majority of her scenes, portrayed her as a more purely innocent, childlike character, while Natwick, the creator of Betty Boop, gave her a little more maturity, sophistication, and sauciness.

You can see the difference, for example, when comparing her girlish interactions with the animals in "With a Smile and a Song" and "Whistle While You Work" (animated by Luske) to her flirtatious smiling at the Prince from the balcony, or her "mothering" of the dwarfs as she examines their dirty hands (animated by Natwick). Or her responses to Grumpy in the scene before the Washing Song: as she asks "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" she looks at him with a devilish grin (Natwick), but then when he sticks out his tongue at her, she reacts with the most wide-eyed, girlish shock (Luske).

Now, I don't know if these two men really held different views of Snow White's character, or if it just worked out that Luske drew Snow White's more innocent scenes while Natwick was assigned her more grown-up moments. But either way, Kaufman argues that this "tension," the movie's constant push-and-pull between "Snow White as a wide-eyed innocent girl" and "Snow White as a self-assured young woman," makes her an especially interesting Disney Princess. I tend to agree, especially because, miraculously, there's no sense of inconsistency in her character. She comes across as a young girl on the verge of womanhood, who naturally can still be naïve and childlike in some ways, but more grown-up and clever in others.

This thesis makes me wonder if certain "tensions" in other movies are the result of different viewpoints within the creative team.

For example, in Beauty and the Beast.

Linda Woolverton has often talked about her feminist goals in writing Belle's character, which sometimes clashed with her collaborators' visions of Belle as a more traditional fairy tale heroine. It just might have been those clashing viewpoints that created the dichotomy in Belle that I personally think makes her interesting. On the one hand, she's a strong-willed misfit rebel, partly inspired by Jo March in Little Women and by Katharine Hepburn's screwball comedy heroines, who longs for adventure, isn't looking for romance until she unexpectedly finds it, stands up to men (and beasts) who abuse their power, and refuses to let anyone dominate her. On the other hand, she's a sensitive dreamer with delicate beauty and balletic grace, who wears pretty, ladylike dresses, adores fairy tales and love stories, and is sweet, nurturing, and almost motherly to her friends and loved ones. Yet somehow these two sides of her character co-exist with no sense of inconsistency between them.

There's also the dichotomy between the two different views of the Beast that the movie seems to present at once. On the one hand, there's the Beast as an unseemly brute, who's beastly form is both a just punishment for his flawed character and an outward symbol of it, and who needs to be "tamed" into proper "human" behavior, culminating in his physically turning human again. On the other hand, there's the Beast as a suffering, self-loathing outcast, unfairly hated, feared, and dehumanized, whose plight under the spell can easily be read as an AIDS allegory, and who needs to be accepted and loved as he is. I suspect that this also stems from different goals and viewpoints in the creative team. (For example, Howard Ashman's clash with the directors over whether the Prince should be a child or a man in the prologue – the former would have made him more "tragic" but the latter makes his punishment more "fair.")

I'd like to read an analysis of these "tensions" similar to Kaufman's analysis of the "two different Snow Whites."

[plasmaapologist]

...just realized i left my introduction in the drafts. oops. at least i have a better photo now.

my names tula, and i'm a registered pokémon nurse with a horrible tendency to ramble. i live in unova and do some work here, but i mainly travel to other regions for this.

i am a former member of team plasma. former. my username is ironic because i cope with humor.

i ran away from home at age 14- it's a long story - and ended up being indoctrinated in. i, like many others, were lucky to have a sort of "snap to reality" moment after ghetsis' first arrest, before the formation of neo plasma, but not before i spent 10 years of my life working for him. many people are shocked by how open i am about my experience, but i think its extremely important to talk about these things: if i could help just one person leave this cycle, or keep someone from entering it, then it would make the shame worth it.

i have dedicated my life to helping pokémon, as a way to attone, i suppose. my darling solosis, mini, travels with me, though i must admit she's quite the spoiled brat. to have such an innocent creature love and trust you is the most healing experience someone can ask for, and i acknowledge that i was so very lucky. i had a home to return to, i was able to find work despite my history, and physically, i bear only a scar on my back and a missing finger... also just so we all know i am a natural ginger and i am not going to dye my hair please stop asking thanks

feel free to ask me any questions you may have: about pokemon, about myself, or my experience with team plasma, any of the sort. and if you need help leaving neo plasma or a group like it, please shoot me a message, i'll give you all the advice i can.

- tula ☆

ooc and admin info:

hi! im cassini, im 21, and i have not rpd since middle school. please be nice

im okay with joining events and plotlines! but i do not know how to join in naturally and get too embarrassed to ask. please shoot me a message/invite! muse list bellloowwwww tulas info

im not lore compliant at times and am even willing to bend (most) of my own headcanons bc multiverse and the likes! very flexible in general

okay more important tula things:

- sapient pokemon interaction is okay! tula will generally believe them. shes seen weirder. legendaries will be met with much more scrutiny, but kindness.

- i keep her age purposefully vauge for "pokemon timeline makes no sense" reasons, but you can generally imagine her somewhere between 26-30, probably.

- shes been through a lot and often copes with humor, which means she tends to come off the wrong way a lot of the time

- though open about her time in plasma, she doesnt like talking about how it affected her

- she speaks before thinking and often posts in bursts do to this

- she has a pretty shitty memory

MUSE LIST:

Timeline 1:

Tula Gagnon - @plasmaapologist (OC. 📍Unova. Birthday: January 1st)

Callisto Aoki - @cherishcherubi (OC. 📍 Kalos. Birthday: October 25th)

Iolana Kealoha - @teamskullkalos (OC. 📍Kalos. Birthday: April 12th)

Timeline 2:

Mari Pijotto - @marifromkoto (OC. 📍Paldea. Birthday: December 18th)

Katy - @patisserie-soapberry (Canon. 📍Paldea.)

Atticus - @navisquadatticus (Canon. 📍Paldea.)

Larry - @medali-gym (Canon. 📍Paldea. Half joke blog.)

Robin Lusk - @absolsrenegade (OC/Self Insert. 📍Unova. Birthday: July 5th)

Timeline 3:

Timeline Unknown:

Grise (Hilda Lewis) - @driftingtrainer (Canon. 📍 Vagabond. Birthday: October 5th)

Rochelle Ichihara - @basaltpowder (OC. 📍Hoenn. Birthday ??? )

Barbie & Ken: @championbarbie-swimmerken - (It's fucking Barbie. Yeah, the pink one. 📍 Everywhere. She's Barbie. Birthdays: March 9th, March 11th)

Ice - @rottenice OC. 📍Primarily Sinnoh, but travels a lot. Birthday: December 21st. Please read content warnings in the pinned post.

Miki Nakajima - @nakajima-lgm OC.📍 Johto. Birthday unknown. Please read content warnings in the pinned post.

@galacticfoundation - Team Galactic AU blog.

@twotoypokemon Pokémon Rumble based blog. Sapient Pokémon OC. 📍Axel Town

[air-of-the-waterfall]

Goddard is definitely power hungry, but it's also deeper than that. He has such a raging inferiority complex it's not even funny. Actually, watching Carson Lusk and the Thunderhead bicker passive-aggressively is hilarious, but I digress.

On pg. 228 of Scythe, Goddard writes in his journal that "I do not miss my so-called relationship with the Thunderhead... The absence of [its] uninvited intrusions into our lives is a blessing... Without the crutch of a higher power, I am the highest power I know, and I like it that way."

He wants control and resents the Thunderhead, and that makes sense now that we've seen his backstory in "A Martian Minute." Instead of supporting him when he's having a rough time, the Thunderhead repeatedly decides to sass him and be a bitch (I say that affectionately, but still). It makes him feel powerless, siding with his parents against him instead of looking out for his best interests. It justifies this by telling Carson that the Mars colony work is more important than anything on Earth. His response is, "Blah blah blah. The Thunderhead was so full of itself. If it really cared about him the way it always claimed to, it would find a way to get him off this rock" (pg. 132 of Gleanings).

The Thunderhead prioritized the broader picture over Carson's personal goals, and there is always an ethical debate to be had about the needs of the many versus one. Neither of them was necessarily wrong on that front before Carson got the Scythedom involved. Interestingly, when it's time to launch another space effort at Kwajalein, the Thunderhead and Cirrus are adamant that no one will be forced to take the journey even though this project is important to humanity. This indicates a shift in priorities for the Thunderhead. It learned from watching Carson that the journey would be jeapordized if anyone was unwilling.

Carson isn't selfish to want to leave Mars, but when he's denied and belittled, he escalates into destructive and definitely selfish behaviour. The Thunderhead probably should have predicted that if it knew him so well. It made that mistake, underestimating a human's determination and overestimating his empathy. History is full of cases like Carson/Goddard who felt slighted and blew it out of proportion (literally).

The first chance Carson gets to align with the Scythedom, an entity above the Thunderhead's jurisdiction, he takes it, and he taunts it while he's in the control room with the reactor. When he later discovers the atolls, he interprets them as a slap in the face from the Thunderhead, who went behind his back and undermined all his power and plans. He then takes this rage out on Rowan and Citra to try and compensate for that insecurity. Even more interestingly, by attacking Kwajalein and forcing unprepared people to escape to the spaceships, Goddard does to them exactly what he resented about his own childhood.

What interests me the most is how this story ties into discussions about systemic power and violence. Cirrus says that Astrid is being selfish for harming humanity's chances in pursuit of her own goals, just like the Thunderhead thought Carson was selfish. The difference is that Astrid and the Tonists are victims of systemic injustice and Carson was a teenage boy who didn't get his way. If Carson had been patient (seeing as he's immortal), he could've gotten what he wanted without killing anyone. Astrid could not afford to be patient because her people were being slaughtered. It's a reflection of how people like Carson make themselves out to be victims while oppressed minorities are shamed for fighting back.

It irks me that Greyson as the Toll refuses to let Tonists fight back against the scythes. Mendoza is not a great leader and his motives are corrupt, but he's right that one can't bring a knife to a gunfight (or you can't politely ask someone to stop beating you). The "if you use violence against your oppressors, you're just as bad" argument is ineffective and just continues cycles of oppression.

Overall, Goddard/Carson's relationship to the Thunderhead digs deep into power relations and their consequences. He seeks power to boost his own ego, and so he fights against the most powerful entity no matter what the cost. He knows the Thunderhead will always be better than him, and that infuriates him.

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina. Has anyone posted about Harry getting Consequences artist of the year?

Oh, I haven’t seen it if they have. That’s cool!

As another wild year in entertainment heads towards a close, it would be nearly impossible to discuss many of the biggest pop culture moments of 2022 without talking about Harry Styles. If breaking Billboard records and releasing a third solo album (which then earned him six more Grammy nominations) wasn’t enough, Styles also spent the past few months heading one of the most in-demand and oft-discussed tours of 2022. Don’t worry, darling, there was also a foray into movies that saw the artist on the film festival circuit, too. For one reason or another, Harry Styles was the name on everyone’s lips.

[…]

The results were strong — Styles’ latest full-length outing is a pop-rock record that dazzled upon arrival and ended up having the legs to remain relevant as the year wore on.

Lead single “As It Was” sat atop the Billboard Hot 100 for a whopping 15 weeks, the longest reign by a British artist and by an an artist with no features or accompanying acts.

[…]

Harry’s House was a breath of fresh air, kicking off with the buoyant “Music for a Sushi Restaurant” and wrapping with the minimalist, emotional “Love of My Life.” Tucked in the 13 tracks are small peeks into Styles’ daily life, confessional moments of intimacy, and thoughtful encouragements, like the tender “Matilda.” The gentle ease of “Cinema” and glow left behind by “Daylight” ensure that the B-sides are far from filler. It’s an album that felt true to this moment in Styles’ career — it’s self-assured and calmer than the intensity of his self-titled debut or the seductive melancholy of Fine Line.

When it comes to an ultra-famous artist like Styles, who is relatively private and refrained from extensive press around the release of his album this year, it’s always nice to receive external confirmation that there’s some truth to a reputation centered on kindness and generosity. We spoke to five acts who have opened for Styles, and there was a lovely common thread running through the conversations: Styles seems to be a good leader who tries his very best to set the tone for the enormous crew required to pull off shows at this level. “Styles is genuinely a really nice guy, so that helps,” shared Jacob Lusk, frontman of Gabriels. “People can fake it for a little while, but they can’t fake it for six days.”

“One thing I really appreciated is that both of the days we played shows with him, Harry would run the stairs in the arena during soundcheck,” Madi Diaz also recalled. “He was taking time to watch the set, which was really sweet.”

“Harry was so kind to us that it left a mark on all of us when we left,” added Madison Cunningham. “For him to ask us to be there was a a mind-blowing thing in and of itself, and then for him to lay the groundwork for his fans to be kind to us as well… that was mind-blowing, too.”

Full article here

[vespertine-legacy]

Someone asked over on my main blog:

If there was a chance that you can bring to life one of your OCs, which OC will you choose and why? How do you spend your time with them?

There are several of my OCs that I wouldn’t mind spending some time with—I think I could learn a lot from Kestrel, Hinah, Velda, or Sija, and that they’d all be pleasant to spend time with. Moxie, Coda, or Chatelaine would just be fun to hang out with. Vradath, Vysh, or Lusk would just be so nice and relaxing to hang out with.

But I think I’d choose Eleison to bring to life and hang out with, mostly because I’m now a Diet Librarian, so maybe I could talk with her more about her Archive and figure out some of the details about how things work there (and bounce some ideas for how to make the historical documents room at work a little better organized off of her).

We’d probably let Ginx and Matcha play together if they behave themselves. She might like seeing some of the museums and historical sites we have around here (I don’t know if she’d want to add any information to the Archive since it’s a different galaxy and all, but maybe just gathering things for her personal collection).

And I won’t lie, I’d get more details from the source on what it’s like dating a Dread Master if she’s willing to kiss and tell.

[coochiequeens]

Lusk’s suit was supported by Gender Justice, a trans activist organization, as part of their “dignity for trans people in custody” campaign.  Guess there’s no “Dignity for Women in custody” campaign.

A male inmate who identifies as “transgender” will be transferred to a women’s prison for the first time in Minnesota history after suing the state for “discrimination.”

Christina Lusk, born Craig, launched the lawsuit against the state’s Department of Corrections in 2022 after claiming to have been subjected to “misgendering” and “harassment” while incarcerated in the Moose Lake correctional facility for men. Lusk’s suit was supported by Gender Justice, a trans activist organization, as part of their “dignity for trans people in custody” campaign. 

Jess Braverman, the legal director at Gender Justice, previously claimed Lusk was vulnerable at the men’s prison, stating: “She’s a woman, and suddenly she’s placed in a men’s facility. She’s in a locked cell with a number of men, and she’s really exposed to harassment and violence in that setting.”

Lusk was incarcerated in 2019 on charges of first-degree drug possession after being found with a copious amount of cocaine and methamphetamine as well as paraphernalia suggesting he had been dealing the deadly substance.

According to a 2018 court record, a warrant had been executed at Lusk’s residence and officers recovered “various methamphetamine quantities” throughout the home. In Lusk’s bedroom, police found a total of 697 grams of meth, two digital sales, a large quantity of plastic baggies, and $5,166 in cash.

Lusk was arrested on two drug-related felonies, but was ultimately only convicted on one after striking a plea deal. He pleaded guilty to first degree possession of a controlled substance, and was sentenced to 98 months in prison. The defendant fact sheet lists Lusk’s gender as “male,” though he had changed his legal name the year prior. 

Lusk had a previous felony conviction for first-degree robbery. 

In June of 2022, Lusk filed a discrimination suit against the Minnesota Department of Corrections with the assistance of Gender Justice. In the court documents, it is claimed that Lusk “came out as transgender in 2008” and began “living authentically” as a “woman” at that time.

But Reduxx located a Facebook account belonging to Lusk from before he was arrested showing that he still appeared to identify as “male.”

Using his birth name of Craig, Lusk’s account obsessively posted about seeking female sexual partners.

At one point, Lusk posts his full phone number and asks women to call him. 

Despite Lusk’s claims that he began transitioning and living openly as “transgender” in 2008, Lusk’s Facebook profile, which appears to have been operated from 2011 to 2012, has a “male” gender marker.

According to the 2022 complaint filed by Lusk and Gender Justice against the Minnesota Department of Corrections, Lusk claimed to have been subject to sexual harassment by male correctional officers who “stared” at his breasts, and gave him male undergarments while he was in segregation. Other examples posed of discrimination faced by Lusk include him having been reprimanded for not wearing a bra, as well as wearing a “nightgown” with no pants beneath. 

On June 1, the Minnesota DOC announced it had come to an out-of-court agreement with Lusk to transfer him to the state’s only women’s prison as well as provide him $495,000 in compensation. 

In the statement, the DOC noted that their existing policy “allows transgender or gender non-conforming individuals to request placement at a facility matching their gender identity,” and that requests will be granted “unless the requested placement would pose a heightened risk of physical or sexual harm to that person or those housed in the preferred facility.”

Lusk is slated for release in May of 2024. 

According to the Minnesota DOC, there are 48 transgender inmates in custody in the state out of a total state inmate population of 8,000. 

Minnesota is home to another notorious trans-identified male inmate. Mosque bomber Emily Claire Hari, born Michael, is currently being held at a federal prison in Pennsylvania.

Hari, along with the small group of far-right militants known as the White Rabbits, began engaging in criminal activity in 2017 with the intention of carrying out acts of domestic terrorism. In August of that year, Hari’s group set an improvised incendiary device near the Imam’s office of the Dar-al Farooq Islamic Center in Bloomington, Minnesota. One of Hari’s associates, Micheal McWhorter, would later confirm the purpose of the attack was to “scare Muslims out of the United States.” No one was injured in the bombing.

During his trial, Hari began to identify as a “woman” and asked the court to take his dysphoria into consideration in sentencing. Since being convicted, he has made a request for an amended Federal prison placement based on his identity.

[sweetlovingfictionals]

“Want a try?” Monty’s southern accent brimmed from his voice box, a lit cigarette pressed between his thumb and thumb offering the stick to the human technician. Something that Mika hasn’t ever had to pleasure of is trying smoking. Not in Mika’s interest. Though, he’s been staring at the animatronic Gator enjoying himself with a can of Fizzy Fazbear soda of Monty’s delicious Brand flavor. Lemon Lime. Weirdly like Sprite but more intensified with the fruity citrus flavor. Maybe Mike had been having heart eyes over his boyfriend for the last the minutes whilst ‘maintaining’ to Monty in replacing old parts while Monty relaxed. It wasn’t a huge procedure. Just a few bolt replacements and sprucing the endoskeleton.

Though, it didn’t help to that he’s been staring and glancing up every now and then. Relaxing on the couch with Mika’s tools next to them. And it didn’t go unnoticed by the animatronic. A pleased smile left his maw. Mika had a very addictive personality. So; Mika was always nervous to start smoking cigarettes. But… this is a offer of a gift from Monty. To have his taste from his tongue and breath. A small fluster at the idea of being able to taste him through the base of the cigarette where he sighs in deciding to it. He would slightly bend up to take the cigarette from Monty, the smoke at the butt of it continuously wisping. Taking a good inhale of the taste of it, it was mixed. For once, the VERY slight citrus taste and tongue of Monty is in the cigarette. And yet, a small cough escaping them from the horrid taste. Thankfully Monty made it bearable. A small chuckle left Monty.

“You’re pretty damn cute, Punkin. How’d I taste?” Mika would shyly look at the floor. He always loved it with Monty teased them. It made them feel all warm. “Like heaven… and citrus.” A stick of the tongue out with a small raspberry. A gruff laugh. He would tease with a tail pressuring up against Mika’s arm. Lifting it up. “Good. Now Gimme.” He would outstretch his hand to take back the cigarette from Monty. A roll of the eyes. “You only had to ask babe.” Mika replies where he gave back the object to Monty, taking another inhale of his cigarette normally and leaning over to blow it down to Mika. “Love your taste, too. Sweet an’ lovely~” Mika inhale the second hand smoke, out of a desire to show Monty their love for him. “Careful, hon. Don’t wanna get you too worked up when I just replaced your parts.” Monty flicks a hand in dismissive. “Aaah, Don’ be like that. We’ll get back t’ playin’ together soon enough. Have a lil’ patience if you can~.” Mika scoffs. “Should be telling you the same when you can help but slap my ass in front of Freddy every so often.”

Monty would lean over again. “Jus’ makin’ sure he knows you’re mine, sweetheart.” Mika would close up the leg part to Monty where he would stand back up. “Give that a try. Should be more nicer on movement. But please do me a solid and don’t kick shit again. You kicked your couch over last time and that’s why you have a messed up leg.” Monty groaned. “Yeah yeah, don’ gotta tell me, Doctah.” Mika sits down next to him. “I’m serious. It gets expensive sometimes to replace your room AND your parts. You’re state of the art and I wanna make sure you’re all healthy for playtime too.” He purred pressing a kiss against his lips. Another taste of smoke and citrus. “Love you. Just wanna be sure you’re okay.” Monty purred back like a gator would. “Ain’ gotta worry about me, babe. I ain’ goin’ nowhere~.” Monty offers again after another inhale. “Want anothah? Just for good luck?” Mika nodded and took it again from him gently. “You’re always my good luck. Though sometimes your lusk is always pushing it.” Monty folded his arms. “Shush and enjoy Me.” Another inhale and blow. “I always do.”

[celizex23]

🦊🌛 Birds of a feather 🌜🦊

Hi hi! It's coming together slowly but surely, peep the next instalment of my #pride2024 flower drawings! This time we have my characters Medea (Demi girl) and Lusk (Demi boy) , from my original story and a DND campaign I'm in respectively. They are extremely similar, except one is a good person and the other pretends to be, can you guess who? If there are any questions please ask, I love talking about my children!

[oldsalempost-blog]

The Old Salem Post

Our  Local Tamassee-Salem SC Area News each Monday except holidays                                          Contact: theoldsalempost@gmail.com                              Distributed to local businesses, town hall, library.                           

Volume 7

Issue 19                                                                                                 

Week of April 22 2024                https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/oldsalempost-blog                                                         Lynne Martin Publishing

EDITOR: When Adam and Eve ate of the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, they should have said no!  Earth Day, April 22, 2024 is the day to say no to plastics!  Scientists believe our bodies are absorbing micro plastics and could be contributing to health problems such as cancers, autism, Alzheimers, and birth defects.  The official Earth Day website is sending  a plea to reduce the plastic in our lives by becoming aware of the harmful affects in our bodies.  Jesus came to earth to save us from the choices Adam and Eve made!  We can make the right choice now to stop or reduce the use of plastics!  Like Jesus, your life depends on it.   LRMartin

TOWN of SALEM: 5 Park Avenue * Visit the Downtown Market every Sat, Hours 9am-1pm. Town of Salem Clean up day– April 27th meet at 8AM at the Calvary Baptist Church– Invite your friends, neighbors, civic groups, and anyone interested in coming together for the good of our community.                                      Salem Beautification Committee is a group of volunteers who support the Town of Salem by maintaining the gardens and decorating some areas for the holidays. Call Ethel Cameron 864-280-4040

Teen Miss Upstate, Emma Lusk will be hosting a Mother’s Day tea party at the Eagles Nest Art Center on Saturday, May 4th  from 2PM-4 PM. This is a fundraiser for Eagles Nest Art Center.  We have an amazing guest speaker lined up and performances as well.  All little lady guests will enjoy manicures and crafts during the tea party.  We are looking for women who would like to host a table at the tea party.  This would include decorating a table in the theme of your choice and selling the tickets for the seats at your table If you are interested please contact Kayla or Emma Lusk at 864-903-0681                                                                                                                    SALEM LIBRARY:  5B Park Avenue.  Hours Monday 10am-6pm. Tues-Friday 9am-5pm. Closed 12-1 for lunch.                    

Jottings from Miz Jeannie  by Jeannie Barnwell    The Once A Week Club                                                                   In 1896 women in Seneca decided to start a club to build friendship and discuss the news. Roads were not paved so they had to slosh through mud to each other's homes.  The Once A Week Club now meets just once a month  because we are so busy. Our club is the oldest federated women's club in the state. Inquiring citizens ask, "How did you keep the club going for 128 years?"   My answer is: At every meeting we recite a prayer.  For 128 years women have taken to heart the strong suggestions offered by poet, Mary Stuart.  Here are some excerpts from Collect.    Keep us, Oh God, from Pettiness.   Let Us Be Large in Thought, Word and Deed.   Teach us to put into Action our Better Impulses  Straight Forward and Unafraid.   Make Us Grow calm, serene, and gentle.   And let us not forget to be kind,   Let these simple words seep into your SOUL!!!    Miz Jeannie Loves You to the Moon and Back!

ASHTON RECALLS    by Ashton Hester    LONG-TIME CAMP JOCASSEE DIRECTOR RETIRED IN 1958 - (The following story was in the July 9, 1958 issue of the Keowee Courier). . .Miss Sarah Godbold of Columbia, beloved director of Camp Jocassee above Salem, is now in charge of the famous summer camp for girls for the 37th consecutive year, but she has decided to retire from the post at the close of the current season. . .Camp Jocassee, however, will continue in operation in the same fine tradition with Mr. and Mrs. Walter Foye of Tifton, Ga. taking over with the start of the 1959 session. Mr. and Mrs. Foye have been granted a five-year lease by Mrs. Morris Brown of Walhalla, owner of the property. . .The camp, with its location in some of the most scenic surroundings to be found anywhere, was established in 1922 under direction of Misses Sarah and Ludie Godbold and has grown progressively each year since then. . .Mrs. Foye has been a member of the directing staff under the Godbold sisters for some time. . .The eight-week 1958 session is now in its second week with 103 girls attending. This is the largest attendance ever, as Mrs. Brown had two additional sleeping cabins added for this year. . .(Footnote: Camp Jocassee continued operating through the 1968 season, after which it was inundated by the creation of Lake Jocassee.                                                                                                                              JOCASSEE VALLEY BREWING COMPANY,(JVBC) & COFFEE SHOP* 13412 N Hwy 11 Open Wed–Sat 9am-9pm and Sunday 12pm-7pm   Events this week:  Wed: Singer/Songwriter hosted by Rick Malec. Sign up at 6PM  Food:Wings and more by Blue Ridge Grill at 4PM.  Thursday:  OLD TIME JAM at 6:30PM  Food: Blue Ridge Grill  Fri:  Music: Fayessoux McLean  6:30pm Food:   Wheelie Good Food   Sat– Music:  Matt Phillips at 6:30pm Food:  Blue Ridge Grill STEAK NIGHT!  Sun:  12pm-7pm  Food:  Lobster Dogs   Music: Finklstein 3 at 4PM  More info 864-873-0048                                                                                                                                         

EAGLES NEST ART CENTER

2024 UPCOMING EVENTS      April 22, 2024 –Celebrate Earth Day at ENAC with Freda!  Thank you Freda!                                                                                                                               April 26th, 7 PM Friday Evening Wellness Event:  Reclaiming Our Inalienable Wellness  Doors open at 6:30 PM  Free event hosted by ENAC featuring speaker Meredith Orlowski, AFMC, INHC.  Bring your friends and family along. Gain Energy, Lose Weight, Feel Happy, & Save the World While Doing it!   ( Perfect timing for Earth Day)    Call 864-280-1258 for information                                                                                                             Mother’s Day Afternoon Tea on Saturday, May 4th  from 2PM-4 PM:   Join us for a special afternoon and treat yourself to delicious goodies, hot tea, and a guest speaker!  Our youngest guests will enjoy manicures and a craft!  $10 per guest.  All funds will be donated to support the Eagles Nest Art Center.  There are also opportunities to sponsor a table for the event.   To RSVP or find more information:  Kayla or Emma Lusk at 864-903-0681                                                                                                               Oconee Mountain Opry:  May 18th at 7PM.   Jef Wilson, West End String Band, Mystery guests, comedy and more.  

June 3-7  ENAC hosts  Art Camp for children 6-12 years old.  9AM-12PM  Call 864-280-1258   $50 fee                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

The Eagles Nest Treasure Store is open every Saturday morning 9AM-12PM.  Will accept donations also or call 864-557-2462.

Information on sponsorships, events, volunteering, donations, or rentals call 864-280-1258 or email at eaglesnestartcenter@gmail.com. 

Interested in becoming a YOUNG APPALACHIAN MUSICIAN?   For ages 3rd grade through adult.     Call 864-280-1258                                                       

CHURCH NEWS                                                                                                                   Bethel Presbyterian Church (PCUSA),  580 Bethel Church Rd Walhalla, 29691. Worship at 10:30 a.m.   Come visit us. All are welcomed!   April 29, 2024, Mel Davis will give the message.                                                                                                                                                                            Boones Creek Baptist Church, 264 Boones Creek Road, Salem invites you to worship service Sunday morning with Sunday School at 10am and followed by worship at 11am.   Also Wednesday services. 

Salem Methodist Church: 520 Church Street, Salem.  9AM for breakfast, 9:30AM for Sunday School, and 10:30AM for Worship.  You may tune in to our live service on Facebook or view it later on our website.  All are welcomed!

Calvary Baptist Church in downtown Salem is inviting you to attend a special Bluegrass Gospel Singing featuring, "The Tugaloo Holler Band" on Saturday, May 11th at 6 PM. Come worship God with us through singing and fellowshipping with believers.

Sharing a Story of Faith:  I once was told the story from a young woman who attended church.  The pastor instructed the congregation  that if they had anyone on their heart  who needed to be saved to place their name on a paper and place in the prayer box.  The lady of course wrote her son’s name on the paper.  Then she was thinking how much she wanted to put her husband’s name on the paper as well, although she almost felt it was of no use.  Oh well, she said to herself, I will put his name on the paper too.  And threw the paper in the prayer box……..Fast forward many years of prayers.   Both her son and her husband are saved children of God.  Prayers Work!

No wonder several of the New Testament books remind us to “ Pray without ceasing!” 

 Clemson Area Food Exchange online farmer’s market.   Check out CLEMSONAREAFOODEXCHANGE.COM.  

COMBAT VETERANS MOTORCYCLE ASSOCIATION SC 34-2:  7th Annual Veteran Benefit Ride April 27th 2024  Register 0900 at Harley Davidson of Greenville, 30 Chrome Drive 29615  All vehicles welcomed.  **   JVBC is proud to be a host stop-off  for these riders around noon.                                                                                        *Say No to Plastic!! Fill and reuse bottles!

Make Each Day a New Start! LRM 

[dontbestingybaby]

from Picture-Play Magazine, October 1923

The Irrepressible One

Fans are always clamoring to see more of Mabel Normand, and in that they are quite like her many acquaintances.

By Norbert Lusk

Full Transcription Below

Photo caption: She is a little figure, all vivid expression, with enormous eyes and petulant, childlike mouth.

MISS NORMAND, one hand grasping a tube of tooth paste, the other holding with a bibliophile’s tenderness a volume of Ernest Dowson, romped into the room.

Tor two hours I had waited. My patience was that of a senescent courtier used to the etiquette of dying monarchies.

Not to interview her. Not as a stranger come to beg a photograph, or a year's tuition in a college of chiropractic, or even to beseech aid for a crippled kiddie’s operation.

These benefices would, my experience told me, have been all too easily won from Mabel. The prospect of such picayune gold digging would have found me not at all trepidant.

I had come on a far, far more delicate mission—one that held me rigidly apprehensive in the plush and prisms of the hotel drawing-room, though not too unstrung to inventory the jumble of Mabel’s belongings scattered, piled and flung here and there.

How like her they all were, I mused, but not too indulgently. Deciding, you understand, to be reserved and not let her know I'd paid attention to her gewgaws. They ranged from seven grotesque dolls, limply perched on mantel and chairs, to a capsized basket of faded flowers, and a leaning tower of cigarettes in boxes, with other oddments between.

For I was there as a once-devoted friend willing, but not too eager, to consummate a reconciliation, if I may use a toplofty phrase. and resolved to be dignified at all costs and not let old-time fondness be welded anew into fettered slavery.

It was to cancel an estrangement brought about by an unanswered letter, or, something equally heartbreaking that Mabel had done.

Frankly, I don't quite remember what it was, now, though before Miss Normand scampered down the hall my grievances were precisely defined, like the perforations on a music roll, and ready to be ground out, a complete opus, at concert pitch.

Mabel is like that—she makes her wounded victim forget his wrongs in a moment and buckle on the armor of a crusader to avenge her own. She is dreadfully devastating to dignity, to judicial balance, to one’s amour propre.

That neglected letter, or whatever it was, had made me sorry for myself and skeptical of the friendly vows of all queens of the screen. I had, indeed, renounced the false sisterhood and consigned them to celluloid. When, as recorded, Mabel bounced in.

Now for the Normand witchery, sorcery, or what not. If this story is to get anywhere at all, something that passes for explanation must be submitted. The hard part of it lies in translating it by means of the printed word, lacking, in turn, the wizardry, alchemy or what not of a Rossetti, a Thomas Hardy, or a James Joyce. Mabel is deserving, honestly, of an abler etcher than I.

“I love your coat—it looks like an Airedale!’ she cried outside, before I saw her, as a means of breaking the ice after three years.

“Ernest Dowson is my favorite poet. I love him. If he weren't dead I’d make him marry me.” Mabel whirled in delivering herself of this and introduced me to the bell boy, who stood behind her, laden with books.

“This is my darling old friend who knows all my faults but loves me just the same. He’s going to be Ritzy about this when you go, because he’s got himself up in soup and fish, trying to pass for an ambassador! But I don’t care, now that he’s forgiven me—do I, Bunker Bean?”

Whereupon she resorted to her own way of stifling a reply. It is the way of an impulsive, affectionate child and, I add, to give the world hope, is not reserved for me alone. One's resistance sags under these onslaughts and I couldn’t command myself to strike an attitude of chill dignity.

Picture, if you can, Mabel as she is off the screen and you'll not ask why. A little figure all vivid expression, quick movement and rapid speech. with enormous eyes and petulant, childlike mouth. She is wise as a serpent in the ways of the world, yet at times more naive than a fictional milkmaid. Beneath it all her manipulation of people is unfailing.

Clinging to the last vestige of self-assertiveness, I reminded her that I’d waited two hours.

“You would! So would the Rock of Gibraltar! That’s why you're wonderful. But I telephoned you twice from the bookshop. Don’t tell me that maid didn’t—I’m going to fire her!” she darted to the door, then wheeled and paused. “No; if you don't mind, I won’t. She’s a wonderful packer.” Mabel softly closed the door and lowered her voice as if in a den of thieves.

“I’m going abroad—no one must know but you. I've always told you my secrets, haven’t I? Sit here near me and I'll tell you some more. You're the only person in the world who can help me.” Followed chattering exposition other plans.

They included, so far as I could adduce, nothing sub rosa. She was going to London for Chistmas, would spend the holidays in Rome (I'd not be surprised if she collected a present from the Vatican Christmas tree, if there were one) and return in a few weeks. There were some trifles to be looked after in her absence.

It was happiness, as always, to undertake them. Mabel asks little and makes one feel a minister plenipotentiary in obtaining chewing gum for her.

Our rapprochement complete, she saw no reason for settling down to stilted conversation about the weather and topics of the day. Accordingly she ran in and out of the room, presumably to confer with those wonderful packers. or leaped to answer the telephone’s insistent jangle. It was always an invitation to join a party, and I caught names as celebrated as her own in these potential hosts. But Mabel refused all, declaring, in a torrent of endearments, that her physician had ordered quiet and rest.

“Isn't it outrageous?” she wailed, wide-eyed from her desk. “I have to autograph five hundred of these ‘Suzanna’ books before I can get away. It’s slavery; yet people think we don’t do anything more

Photo caption: She is wise as a serpent in the ways of the world, yet at times more naive than a fictional milkmaid

strenuous than change our shoe trees. I’ve got writer’s cramp, as it is, and housemaid’s knee too. Tell me what to write on the flyleaf for my French teacher. I've been studying three years and don’t know a thing, but he’s a darling old peach.”

She munched her pen. Already she was inked to the wrists. Needless to relate the ready star needed no prompting.

“Don't you dare like this book more than you do me!” she scribbled, “l’otre gamine terrible—Mabel.”

Gamine! That’s the word. Mabel herself described a phase of herself, her present phase.

Luxurious, lavish, independent of any individual's favor, she is a gamine de luxe—a sort of Kiki, minus Lenore Ulric, because, despite dissimilar circumstances, Mabel’s heart is that of the child-woman of André Picard’s play. Gaining her own ends by the sheer vigor of her attack, never accepting defeat. appraising people and situations to a nicety, and over all flooding an excess of capricious high spirits.

Mabel is inimitable, undeniable, irresistible. You may put this down, if you choose, as arrant bias on the part of her toiling historian. But confront him, if you can, with the person who has withstood Mabel. Vainly he has sought this Hippolytus among studio workers—people generally without illusion—and while there are feminine stars of the dramatic persuasion who wouldn't exactly expand while Mabel watched their emotional scenes in the making, it is because her sense of burlesque would conflict with their lack of it.

Yet. while she indulges her gamine mood, there still are other moods. When finally she permitted the packing to be carried on without interference and had inscribed fly leaves galore, autographed pictures, written notes, despatched telegrams, denied herself to callers, plied me with food, “Suzanna” souvenirs and instructions—and had driven home her points with some comic imitations of people we all know—she talked uninterruptedly. Probably as a means of warding off fatigue.

“WHY is it, do you suppose, I’m not happy? People think I am. I babble because they expect just that. But. cross my heart and hope to die, I'm not Pollyanna by a long shot. There's something missing. Sometimes I think it’s because I know people too well—see through them too easily—and it makes me want to hide myself away from it all. You know I really love to be alone where I can think things over but—you answer the telephone, darling—say that Miss Normand has gone over to Staten Island to see her mother.” Fortunately this fib swept the current of Mabel’s introspection into happier channels—happier, without doubt, for her visitor, who had the sudden qualms of one who might be keeping Mabel from thinking things over.

“You remember I always used to be writing things in my book? If you promise not to make fun of me, or take down anything, I'll read to you. I’m really self conscious about my poems. I couldn’t bear to have people laugh at a comedienne’s attempt to be serious.”

And so, twisted into gnomelike angles, on the sofa, Mabel unlocked her book and read. She won’t mind mention of this because, in keeping my word not to quote. I have only recounted a fact which her fans should know.

Her verses are simple, unaffected, concrete. Each mirrors an impression. There are clear images, unclouded by wasted words, in them all. The sincerity of her intention disarms the critic (if I may masquerade as one so late in the story), and stirs and touches. Which is precisely what Mabel wished to do when she essayed her first author’s reading under a rose lampshade.

“Why in the world don’t you publish these? You’d have no trouble arranging it, and think what a surprise people would get.’

“Not for any money—at least not now. They’d only be bought out of curiosity and some one surely would laugh. I couldn’t bear to be laughed at in that way. When one understands life, or tries to, thoughts that touch very deeply should be kept mostly to one’s self... Oh, but I'd love to do an autobiography, and tell the truth, mind you, the whole truth! That's all that would excuse it.”

I predict that she will, some day, for unless all symtoms fail, what Mabel aches for is literary expression.

Certainly few busy people read more than she does or respond more readily when there is opportunity to discuss books. Of the fifty or so volumes awaiting the clutches of the packers, there was nothing obvious; no garishly jacketed best seller, but poetry, biography, criticism, history, all out of the ordinary.

In reading, however, as in her conduct. it would seem milady has her moods. She avowed affection for Ethel M. Dell—at least for one of her stories which Mabel expects to do in pictures—yet holds Leonard Merrick, economist of emotion and narration, in esteem.

“No, no; not that. Don't begin with ‘Conrad in Quest of His Youth’—that’s not a fair test of Merrick’s power,” she advised a caller who wished to become acquainted with the novelist. “Start with ‘The Man Who Understood Women.’ The rest will take care of themselves.”

She dispensed this counsel with a quiet zest that gave me a flash of the pedagogue, if you'll credit that. In line with this she assured me she was a born old maid, and expected to die one, because she spends much time happily cataloguing and rearranging her belongings.  Servants notwithstanding, Mabel says she knows exactly where to find the black-lace stockings that have been mended once, and woe betide the slave that mixes her handkerchiefs.

How, I asked myself, did the inflexible Britons receive this quaint, unconventional ex-Biograph girl? She had returned, not long since, from her first invasion of London and was now to go again, without having revisited Los Angeles. There must have been few lorgnons raised by the duchesses for Mabel to cartwheel into the midst of their unwedded young sons once more. So I asked her.

“In England people do the loveliest things for you for the love of doing them. You know what I mean? They don’t calculate their kindness. It’s an instinct, not a gesture, and it’s gracefully casual. Gosh! I adore the English for their civilization, their traditions.”

This enthusiastic blanketing she followed with details spotlighting the hospitality of lords and ladies in country houses and at hunt breakfasts. Of solitary

---

THROUGH FRIENDLY EYES

Now and then interviewers and acquaintances of Mabel Normand have written their impressions of her—many of them vivid, some of them appealing, all of them interesting. Normand is one of those rare individuals who never fails to make a deep impression on the people she meets. It is only from a person who has known her well for a number of years, however, that you can get an adequate word picture of this unusual girl. Therefore, PICTURE-PLAY is proud to present this story by Norbert Lusk—first of all because he is a clever, facile writer—but particularly because he has long known and admired her.

---

walks over moors, gathering heather—and, with no less happiness, of a police inspector who had won her heart by escorting her through Limehouse.

“You knew dear George Loane Tucker, didn’t you? Well, Sir Hall Caine wrote me a darling note—no; sweet was the word for it (I mean quaint), telling me that Mr. Tucker, when he was alive, used to write him nice things about me and asking if he could come to see me. He came and turned out to be the gentlest, darlingest pet there ever was. We understood each other—zip! like that! and later I went to his house for tea.

“I liked Barrie too, Wasn't it a shame? I mean I was bathing when he called at the Ritz and kept him waiting too long” (oh, Mabel, how like you!) “for when I came out he had gone, leaving a funny little note. It said that he had fixed the fire in the grate and hoped it would warm me. Of course I tried to make up for this later. Shaw was awfully kind too—very quizzical and clever."

She had, however, no tale of him to equal the other conquests, which gave me an opening to ask if it were true she had broken an engagement to meet Princess Mary.

“Of course not! My friends ought to know me well enough to be sure I wouldn't do that. It was to have been at a charity bazaar or something. At the last moment the thing was called off. Some bigwig engineering it was sick. Then some one thought it would be funny to say Mabel Normand had been rude. That’s how things start. Just because I’m a little—well, you know, different—people believe anything weird about me.

“I wish to heaven some philanthropist would take the time to write about me as I am. Something quite simple, natural. Not making me out a highbrow, or a stately Vere de Vere, or as a girl with no taste at all. Just as I really am—just me. Then the public wouldn't swallow nonsense when it’s printed by those who don't care because they don't know any better. . . It must be great to be a wharf rat.”

Mabel next returned from Europe in high spirits on a slow steamer, under the impress that she had booked passage on an express.

Reporters, boarding the vessel at quarantine, still surrounded her at the pier because, I surmised, she was offering entertainment—or news.

Next morning’s papers rumored her supposed marriage to an anonymous Londoner. Mabel was in tearful indignation over this wrong and, as always, spurred her sympathizers to avenge the canard. But first I probed for clews.

“I never said a thing,” she averred. “A lady on the steamer was reading my palms, saw this diamond guard and kidded me about having married secretly. I kidded her back. Who wouldn't have? Then it spread. Things always spread. I'm going to take the veil.”

She was reminded of what she previously complained of in newspaper misrepresentation and advised that she should have flatly contradicted the sociable palmist.

“Oh, you want me to be dignified. Dignity my eye! I can’t be upstage and I can't be mean when people are nice. But I’ll never even be civil to a newspaper man again.”

On the morrow this sprightly queen of contradiction was hostess to a group of news gatherers, purposely to convince them of the error of their ways. How she did it you perhaps know by now. At any rate the next edition of their journals gave space to Mabel's denial.

This, then, is the Mabel Normand adjudged the leading feminine comedian of the films. These glimpses of her away from the studios, chosen because they are typical rather than exceptional, reflect. I hope, the vigor and verve and whimsicality of her acting. It is doubtful, however, if they give an idea of her professional authority. sagacity. When she is absorbed in work it is absorption indeed. Her long experience—her facile inventiveness — fundamental sense of the comic—are all whipped into dynamic activity when she attacks a picture. Should the result disappoint, Mabel’s reaction is that of utter heartbreak. But she rebounds. Like all urgent souls she never accepts defeat.

“She seems to be working out as one of those very human characters,” she wrote of ‘The Extra Girl.’ “You know what I mean—a girl one looks at and wants to know more about as she passes by, and leaves one with a little ache that one may know her better. She has given me tremendous ambition. If others have failed perhaps it was misjudgment of one kind or another in attempting them. But this picture has had the same effect as. the faith of those who really love me. And so, from the way things look, I think those who care for me will be rather proud of their—Mabel.”

[katiescinema]

101 Dalmatians:

101 Dalmatians was released on January 25, 1961. Hamilton Luske, Clyde Geronimi, and Wolfgang Reitherman directed the movie and it was written by Bill Peet. The movie stars Rod Taylor, J. Pat O'Malley, Betty Lou Gerson and Martha Wentworth. 101 Dalmatians grossed $303 million in box office sales.

The 101 Dalmatians is about two dalmatian owners who fall in love and their dogs also fall in love. The dogs end up having 101 puppies. The antagonist of the story is Cruella de Vil and she kidnaps the puppies. The movie shows you have the puppies escape and what happens.

I first saw 101 Dalmatians when I was a kid because my cousins put it on for me. I loved 101 Dalmatians because it was a movie about dogs. As a kid I loved dogs and they were my favorite animal. I was scared of Cruella de Vil and I almost didn't like the movie because of her. I still like the movie to this day.

Ramona and Beezus:

Ramona and Beezus was released on July 23, 2010. It was directed by Elizabeth Allen Rosenbaum. It was written by Laurie Craig, Nick Pustay, and Beverly Cleary. The movie stars Joey King, Selena Gomez, and Bridget Moynahan. In the box office this moves grossed $27.3 million in sales.

Ramona and Beezus is a movie about two sisters who never really get along but they must work together to try and save their childhood home.

I first saw Ramona and Beezus one day when I was scrolling through my TV looking for a random movie. I liked this movie because it was about two sisters and it reminded me of myself and my sister. I related to Beezus because she was the older sister just like me. I haven't watched this movie since I was younger but I would watch it again.

The Titanic:

The Titanic was released in the US on December 19, 1997. It was written and directed by James Cameron. The movie stars Leonardo DiCaprio, Kate Winslet, Billy Zane, and Kathy Bates. The Titanic generated $2.257 billion in box office sales.

The Titanic is about a luxurious ships that crashes into an iceberg. The main characters Jack and Rose meet on the ship and fall in love. The movie shows you how all the people on the ship are try to survive.

I first watched the Titanic when I was with my friends when we were younger. I liked the movie because it was based on a true story. I was upset when Jack died and I haven't been able to watch the movie since.

The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It

The Conjuring was released on June 4, 2021. It was Written by David Leslie Johnson- McGoldrick, James Wan, amd Chad Hayes. It was directed by Michael Chaves. It stars Vera Farmiga, Patrick Wilson, Ruairi O'Connor, and Sarah Catherine Hook. The Conjuring generated $206.4 million in box office sales.

The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It is about a man accused of murder. He seeks the help of Ed and Lorraine Warren who are paranormal investigators. The suspect claims he was under demonic possession and did not commit the murder in a normal state.

I watched the Conjuring for the first time about two weeks ago with my roommates. I liked the thrill of the horror and suspense. I felt bad for the character Debbie and sympathized for her. I would watch the movie again and I really liked it.

I asked my cousin Taylor what he thought my favorite movies were at these time periods in my life. From ages 8-9 he said my favorite movie was the 101 Dalmatians. I don't think the 101 Dalmatians is a super important movie but I think it is fun for kids to watch. This was correct and it's what I listed as my favorite movie. He said he remembers me watching it all the time and that I would always say how much I loved it. From 10-13 he said Jaws. Taylor said he though I liked Jaws because I was interested in marine life and ocean animals. I listed my movie as Ramona and Beezus. Ramona and Beezus was important to me because it was about a sister bond and my sister is a very special person to me. Ramona and Beezus and Jaws are very different movies. For 14-17 he said Hereditary. The movie I listed was the Titanic. I did not watch horror movies during these ages because I was scared of them and I just recently started liking them. From ages 19 up he said the Conjuring but he didn't specify which one. I do like all of the Conjuring movies but I specified the 3rd movie "The Devil Made Me Do It". I think the Conjuring 3 was important because it was educational about demonic possession.

[avis-and-panda]

Mock Cinderella Play 

“What?!” Elora yelled in indignation. The others in the club room grimaced at the shout. 

“It’s not as bad as it could have been.” Frederick said as he shrugged. 

“‘Not as bad as it could have been’?” Benjamin asked as he eyed Frederick in disbelief, “I got the Fairy Godmother! The Fairy Godmother! How am I supposed to pull that off?!” 

“I demand we go again.” Kenneth stated with a displeased frown. 

Multiple sighs and groans sounded throughout the room. 

It all started just earlier that day, when Felix Fronius, Elora O’Riain, and Frederick Atonal were assigned to do a Cinderella play for the festival that was taking place in their school, Kuran Private High School. 

They started recruiting actors, first going to two of their friends from a freshman class and their club, Benjamin Adley and Chika Kubo. 

The three of them then started recruiting those they knew personally. Felix asked his roommate, Daniel Dalisay, and Elora her cousin, Kenneth Haight, who was in his junior year. Frederick tried asking some people but got rejected for one reason or another. 

Luckily, Kenneth was part of the student council and was able to convince a couple of other members, Kikka Lebedev and Marnie Lusk. 

Having finally gathered enough people, they were all ushered into their club room, where they decided to just draw lots to discern who got which role. 

Which was, apparently, a terrible idea. 

“Look, I know the results are less than favorable, but we’re gonna have to deal, okay?” Kikka said with a frown, “The play is in a week, and we must not only memorize our lines but get our costumes together and stuff. We don’t have time to fight over our roles.” 

“She’s right!” Marnie agreed with an encouraging smile, “If we just practice, I’m sure we’ll be able to get our roles down, no matter how unfavorable they are! That’s the beauty of acting, after all. Saying and doing things without meaning it!” 

Everybody made a face at the weird take on acting but no other objections were made. 

Benjamin sighed, “It certainly doesn’t help that the only person who actually knows how to act has the one role that doesn’t require acting.” He muttered. Everyone promptly turned to look at Felix, who had drawn the role of “narrator”. 

“What’s with the looks? It’s not my fault you all got bad draws.” The red head said with an unimpressed tone, completely unbothered by the situation, which only prompted more sighs of frustration. 

“I get that we can’t really complain,” Elora admitted, frustration clear on her features, “after all, we did decide to draw lots. But you can’t expect me to act like I’m in love with Kenneth.” She sharply pointed at the man in question, “He’s my cousin!” 

Frederick cringed and nodded, “Yeah, that’s a fair point.” 

“So, are we drawing again or not?” Daniel asked, “I mean, I’m actually quite happy with who I got.” He showed them the paper, which read “King”. 

Kikka sighed, “It’s true that it’ll be a little awkward for the two of you to act as the romantic couple,” she gestured to the two cousins, “But it’s only you two and Ben who got bad roles.” The others murmured agreements and nodded. 

Elora and Kenneth still looked unhappy as they eyed each other in mild disgust. 

“What if we just… rewrote it?” Surprisingly, Felix was the one who asked the question. 

Everybody turned to him, intrigued. 

He shrugged, “What if we just rewrote the play so we don’t have to do anything we’re uncomfortable with? It’s not like Dick gave us rules we had to follow or anything.” 

That was true. Dick, the teacher who assigned them the play, only said to try and make it entertaining, which, while obvious, wasn’t at all encouraging if that’s what he was trying to convey. 

“So, you’re suggesting that we just rewrite it to our will?” Kenneth asked, skeptically. 

“Why not?” Felix responded, “As long as the basic setting and characters are still there, I don’t see a problem. Dick did say to make it interesting, and if you ask me, the original is getting a little boring.” He said with a smirk. 

Frederick made a considering noise as he thought it over. 

“Yeah… Why not?” Frederick grinned, “That’s actually not a bad idea. Thanks Felix!” He commended, beaming at the red head. 

Felix blinked, “Thanks? What do you mean ‘actually’—” 

“So, who should rewrite it then?” Chika said. 

“Lusk is part of the newspaper club.” Kenneth informed, “She’s one of their best writers. I’m sure she could whip something up right away.” His tone was almost proud. The girl in question blushed but nodded as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Then it’s decided!” Chika chirped happily, “We’ll rewrite the story to fit our needs and make the most unique Cinderella play Mr. Dick’s ever seen!” 

Several cheers are sounded throughout the room. 

- 

One week later, the teenagers were all gathered backstage in the school gym, where a theater was set up.  

“Okay, we only have fifteen minutes ‘til showtime, so let’s do one last check-up!” Kikka ordered, “Costumes?” 

“Check!” Elora shouted in response. 

“Props?” 

“All handmade and ready to go!” Chika confirmed with a mock salute. 

“Half-baked, last-minute acting skills?” 

“Uuh, define ‘acting skills?’” Ben asked nervously before Frederick elbowed him and gave Kikka a reassuring smile, “Check!” 

“Great.” Kikka grinned, “Not the best theater troupe you’ve ever seen, but not bad all things considered!” 

“I just hope the audience will like it.” Marnie said with a nervous smile. 

“The only one you need to worry about liking it is me.” A male voice suddenly spoke, causing everyone to pause and turn to see Advik Dixit, or Dick as the students had ever so lovingly dubbed him. Not that they ever called him that to his face. 

“Mr. Dix!” Elora called in surprise before narrowing her eyes and huffing in faux irritation, “You here to make sure we don’t mess up or something? What, you don’t think we can handle a play on our own?” 

“In all honesty, no I don’t.” Advik stated blankly, “I’m only here so I can get a closer look backstage. It would make it easier to grade you.” 

Frederick nodded in understanding, “That makes se—Wait, we’re being graded?!” 

Felix glared at the teacher, “You didn’t say anything about that.” 

Advik raised an eyebrow, “I figured I didn’t need to. It says so on the papers I gave you three.” 

Elora whipped around to look for the information papers he gave them, “But I thought—” 

“Five minutes left!” Kikka announced, causing everyone to pause and then focus on double checking that they were prepared to go on stage. 

“One minute!” 

“That’s our cue!” Chika said, quickly pushing Elora to the stage. 

The latter quickly scrambled to the stage, where the lights were already dimming. 

The play started and the lights on the stage turned on to reveal a girl in rags mopping the floor of a mansion. The sparkly decorations and lavish furniture was a drastic difference compared to the girl’s dirty appearance.  

“Once upon a time, there was girl named Cinderella,” Felix narrated into a microphone off to the side, “This girl was a beautiful maiden that, despite the dirty rags she adorned every day, lit up every room with her mere presence.” 

Elora, as Cinderella, was indeed pretty with her long silky blue hair and purple eyes. 

“However, Cinderella was constantly abused by her stepmother and stepsisters, who were jealous of her beauty.” 

Elora abruptly paused her mopping, “Abused?” she mused to herself, “Nah, it’s more like the irritating buzzing of three pompous flies who can’t take care of themselves. If I didn’t clean this place, who would?” 

“The fourth wall does not appreciate the beating, Cinderella.” 

The girl rolled her eyes in response before jumping at the sound of a very loud “CINDERELLA!!” coming from the side. 

She glared as Chika, as Anastasia, came running to her, out of breath and in a panic. 

“Anastasia.” Elora greeted in a bored tone, “Is there something wrong?” 

“Oh, it’s terrible!” Chika, exclaimed, “A mouse! A mouse in my room! Oh, you must take care of it, Cinderella! You were always the best at these kinds of jobs.” 

“Don’t you mean the only one with the nerve to do the dirty work? It’s been like this since we were kids.” 

“And that’s how it should be.” Another female voice had cut in.  

Marnie, as Drizella, walked in from Elora’s other side. 

“As the house-maid, you are the only one responsible for chasing away vermin.” She said in a pompous tone. 

Elora huffed, “I am not a maid, I’m just the only competent person here.” 

Marnie looked insulted, “The only one?! You—”  

“Truly evil, as you can see.” Felix narrated in a dry tone as the two fought, “This continued through the rest of the morning until a knock came from the door.” Right on cue, a knocking sound came from somewhere offstage, catching the attention of the three girls immediately. 

“I’ll get it.” Elora said as she walked away from sight. 

“Good morning, miss.” Said a disembodied voice. 

“Good morning. How may I help you?” Elora replied. 

“A message from the king, miss. He wants every eligible maiden to attend a ball to celebrate the prince’s return from overseas.” 

“A ball?” the girl asked, thinly veiled excitement in her voice, “And we’re invited?” 

“Well, yes, as long as you’re not already romantically involved with someo—” 

“Are you kidding me? We’ll be there.” Elora assured the messenger. Not a second later, the girl ran back to the others. 

“Did you hear?” she asked, grinning widely. 

“Of course, we heard!” Chika exclaimed, “We’ve been invited to a ball!” 

“And to meet the prince.” Marnie reminded them, smile hidden behind her hand. 

“Oh, who cares?” Elora dismissed, “We get to go to a ball!” 

“We?” A voice cut in. Kikka, as the stepmother, walked in behind them. 

“And who said you were attending, Cinderella?” The woman asked, a stern look on her face. 

“Well, why not?” Elora snapped, “You can’t stop me from going.” 

“I can and I will.” Kikka declared. Elora ground her teeth and opened her mouth to shout but was cut off. 

“Unless, that is, you can get the house completely cleaned before we leave.” 

“Completely?” The maiden asked in disbelief, “You can’t be serious! We live in a mansion! You can’t expect me to finish cleaning the whole house in mere hours! It takes days on average!” 

“I suppose you better hurry then.” The mother snidely remarked before turning away, “Come on girls, we need to get your dresses ready for the ball.” 

The stepsisters hesitated, but ultimately followed their mother with a “good luck” from Anastasia and an apologetic glance from Drizella. 

“And so, Cinderella was left to clean, knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to finish before the ball, let alone obtain an appropriate dress.” 

The stage grows dark, leaving a stricken Elora in its wake. 

After a minute, the stage lights up again, revealing Elora on the floor, absentmindedly scrubbing the floor. 

“What to do, what to do…” The girl muttered to herself, “It’s been hours, and I still haven’t finished… Mum and my sisters have already left…” She huffed irritably and stood up. 

“At this point, I might as well just finish cleaning tomorrow. I’m not going to the ball anyway, so what’s the point?!” 

“Not so fast!” 

Elora shrieked as a figure suddenly appeared in a puff of smoke in front of her. 

“Who are you?!” She screamed as she fell back to the floor. 

“I am your Fairy Godfather!” Benjamin, as the Fairy Godfather, explained. 

Elora stared in confusion, “My… what?” 

“Your Fairy Godfather. You know, your godfather that’s a fairy?” He explained, as if it was obvious. 

Elora just stared at him incredulously, “Aren’t you a little… young to be my godfather?” 

“Never mind that.” The boy dismissed with a wave of his hand, “The point is, I’m a fairy, and I can help you.” 

“Help me?” she asked, intrigued. 

“Yep. You want to go to the ball, correct?” 

“Yes!” She confirmed, jumping up from her spot on the floor. 

“Then I might have a solution for that.” 

Elora tilted her head to the side in confusion before two strips of cloth shot out from the side of the stage and started dragging the girl away. 

“Eh?! Wha— Fairy Godfather!!” The strips dragged her away kicking and screaming as Benjamin watched passively. 

“The Fairy Godfather cast his spell to turn Cinderella’s dirty rags into a beautiful gown.” 

Elora was all but shoved back onstage, tripping on her feet and faceplanting on the ground. 

“Ow…” she groaned, collecting herself off the floor. 

“Very good, now, you’ll be taking this carriage here.” The boy instructed as a carriage rolled onto the stage. Elora’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“A carriage?!” 

“Did you think the one your family took earlier was the only carriage you owned?”  Benjamin said with a judging look, “What, you thought I was gonna whip up a little convoy for you? Turn one of these oversized gourds your family doesn’t eat into a carriage? My godchild, that’s above my pay grade. This will do.” 

She had the decency to least-wise look a little sheepish, “I don’t really use them…” 

The boy sighed, “Just… get in the carriage. We’ve wasted enough time already.” 

Elora nodded and hurried into it. 

“Off you go now!” Benjamin said as the carriage started rolling back off the stage, “Oh, and by the way, you only have until midnight before the spell wears off and you’ll be wearing rags again. So, about an hour.” 

“An hour?!” she exclaimed right before she was removed from view. 

The stage darkened again before it lit up a minute later, revealing Kenneth, as the Prince, sitting in a chair as he idly drank from a cup. 

“Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the ball was thriving in the King’s castle. However, the Prince wasn’t all too enthusiastic about it, sulking in the corner as he was.” 

“I’m not sulking.” Kenneth refuted irritably, “And I’m not in a corner. I’m sitting at a table in the middle of the room.” He glared at Felix, who was hidden off to the side of the stage. Though their audience couldn’t see it, Felix glared back at him. 

“You may not be in a corner, but you are sulking. Now stop going off-script.” He snapped. 

Kenneth turned away with a huff, continuing to glower off in the distance. 

“Your highness.” Said a voice, catching Kenneth’s attention. Frederick, as the Grand Duke, walked up to him, stature and voice formal. 

“It’s been hours since the ball had officially started, and yet you’ve barely talked to anyone. May I ask why?” 

Kenneth shrugged, “Nobody’s caught my eye.” 

The other sighed, “Your highness, your father explicitly requested that you find a bride tonight. If he found out you’ve made no effort—” 

“What am I supposed to do?” Kenneth snapped harshly, “Walk up to a random girl and ask for a dance?” 

Frederick gave him a look, “That is exactly what you’re supposed to do.” 

Flushing lightly, Kenneth looked away, drinking more from his cup. 

“Oh, come on, son!” Said another man, who walked onto the stage and stood next to the Kenneth. Frederick bowed, saying “Your majesty” in greeting. 

Daniel, as the King, took one look around the room, “My, there’s quite an abundance of pretty, single, woman here tonight! Why don’t you talk to them?” 

Kenneth glared at him, “You’re speaking as if they’re displays at the market.” He scolded, “Stop that. And I already told you, I’m not going to just marry any pretty woman you throw at me. Marriage is the endgame of what should be slow process.” 

“In other words, he wants to marry a woman he falls in love with, not one you picked off the street.” Frederick explained. 

Kenneth flushed further and glared at the man, to which the latter only shrugged in response. 

“But son,” Daniel started with a sigh, putting both hands on Kenneth’s shoulders, “You’re not gonna find someone to date if you don’t talk to them, and that’s exactly what you’re avoiding.” 

“I’m not going to find love by looking for it.” Kenneth said, “I want our first meeting to go naturally, not enforced.” 

Just then, Both Chika and Marnie walked up to them, smiles polite and nervous. 

“Good evening, your highness.” Marnie bowed gracefully, prompting Chika to follow, “How are you, this fine night?” 

Kenneth stared at her for a moment before answering, “I’m doing well, this evening. And you?” 

“Delightful.” She answered and then paused, a hesitant glance at Chika, before looking the man in the eye with determination. 

“Me and my sister here have been itching to dance for a while now.” She batted her eyes, “But I’m afraid we haven’t found any partners.” 

Kenneth visibly straightened, already offering his hand, “Then would you—” 

“Oh my, look at her!” Said a voice from behind them. All five of them turned around to see Elora at the back of the stage perusing around the props. Multiple disembodied voices continued to sing her praises, the girl completely oblivious to them. 

“She is quite pretty.” Kenneth noted as Daniel smiled widely. 

“That she is!” He exclaimed before turning to Kenneth and all but shoving the man towards her, “In fact! I think you should go ask her for a dance!” 

“Wha—?! But I was—” 

“Come on! Just one dance?” Daniel looked straight in Kenneth’s eyes with the most pleading gaze he could muster. 

In the end, the man couldn’t resist them, and said yes. 

Kenneth walked up to the blue-haired girl, ignoring the disappointed look on Marnie’s face. 

“Excuse me, miss?” He called, catching Elora’s attention, “Would you like a dance?” 

The girl gave him a once over and turned away. 

“No thanks.” She dismissed easily. 

Kenneth blinked, before calmly turning to Daniel, “She rejected me.” He stated. 

Daniel had his head in his hand and Frederick looked like he was holding back laughter. 

“Wow, the most beautiful maiden here, but she’s unfortunately quite blasé...” The brunette said in amusement, his formal stature cracking. 

Kenneth rolled his eyes, “She is indeed, quite pretty, but she’s hardly the most beautiful.” He then turned back to Marnie, who visibly brightened by his attention, until a hand grabbed his wrist, prompting him to look back and see Elora standing there. 

“Excuse you?” The girl asked, shaking slightly, “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” She looked Kenneth in the eyes, hot anger burning inside her own. 

“I didn’t say you were ugly.” He stated with a frown, “In fact, quite the opposite. Are you so conceited that you can’t stand for anything less than praise?” 

That just made the girl glare harder, “You didn’t have to say it in such a rude way!” 

The man’s gaze turned irritated, “You rejected me barely a second after I requested a dance.” 

“Are you so cocky you couldn’t have imagined a girl would reject you?” 

The two glared at each other for a moment. 

“C-come on you two…” Daniel started, trying to placate the argument, “Maybe you could settle this over a game or something? In fact, it’s almost time for the midnight dance! You two could dance together to see who’s better!” 

At the mention of midnight, Elora gasped and glanced at the clock, only to see that at that moment it was 11:50. All the while, Kenneth shot down Daniel’s idea, saying it would be ridiculous to dance with someone you didn’t even like. 

“As much as I would like to continue this delightful conversation,” She started, suddenly yanking her hand from his wrist and backing away, “But I have to leave now. I don’t have time for silly squabbles.” She turned away and dashed towards the food table, grabbing an assortment of treats, before running away in a very non-lady-like manner.  

Kenneth jolted at her actions and looked offended, “You’re the one who started this ‘silly squabble’!” He shouted incredulously as she ran away. The man huffed irritably as he walked back to the others. 

 “Well, that was weird.” Daniel commented, “So, what’d you think?” 

“She’s a beauty but it isn’t nearly enough to make up for that personality.” Kenneth scoffed. 

“If you say so.” Daniel sighed, “However, I would still like to—” he turned around, only to see that the blue-haired girl had left. The clock’s bells rang, announcing that it was midnight. 

“Cinderella ran away that night, her identity a mystery and no clues as to who she could have been, much to the King’s disappointment. However, the Prince and Drizella danced through the night, only leaving the other’s side when the girls had to head back home.” 

True enough, Kenneth asked Marnie for a dance, and she eagerly agreed. They danced on stage for a bit before Chika tapped Marnie’s shoulder. 

“I’m afraid we have to leave, sister.” Chika said with an apologetic smile. 

“Oh…” Marnie looked disappointed, “That’s my cue then. It was lovely to meet you, your highness.” She pulled away and started to follow the other girl, only to be stopped by a hand on her wrist. 

“Wait!” Kenneth called, “What’s your name?” 

Marnie looked surprised but smiled in delight, “Drizella.” She answered simply before finally leaving. 

The stage darkened once more, lighting up again to reveal Elora and her family at the dinner table, drinking tea. A knock was heard from somewhere offstage. 

“I’ll get it.” Elora announced as she stood up and walked towards the noise. 

“Good morning miss. May we come in?” Said a male voice. Elora watched in surprise as Frederick walked onstage, along with Kenneth. Once Elora met eyes with Kenneth, the two stared at each other for a moment in stunned silence. 

“IT’S YOU!?!?” They both shouted, pointing at each other incredulously. 

“You’re that stuck-up prince!” Elora yelled. 

“Stuck-up—Excuse me?!” Kenneth yelled back indignantly, “Says that rude little maiden who couldn’t take an off-handed comment about your looks!” 

“Oh, I’ll show you ‘little’—” 

“With all do respect, but you two realize that you have an audience?” Frederick suddenly interrupted, exasperated. 

Elora and Kenneth paused their bickering and slowly turned to face Elora’s step-family, who were silently watching in shock. 

“Y-your highness!?” Marnie exclaimed, standing up and bowing, “To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Kenneth cleared his throat and collected himself before both him and Frederick bowed as well. 

“Excuse us for our intrusion.” Kenneth apologized. 

“Oh, not at all!” Kikka responded as she and Chika stood up as well. 

Kenneth cleared his throat once more, “I could have come later, but I wanted to do this as soon as possible.” He then got down on one knee in front of Marnie and pulled out a small box, everyone held their breath in anticipation, “Miss Drizella, would you go…” He opened the box, “Go out on a date with me?” 

“A date?!” everyone exclaimed. In the box was a small hydrangea brooch. 

“Wait, so you’re not going to ask her to marry you?” Chika asked in bewilderment. 

Kenneth gave her a look, “I’ve only met her hours ago. Of course, I’m not going to ask her to marry me.” 

“But—You—You got on your knees and everything!” The blonde defended herself. 

“I admit, it was little misleading.” Frederick remarked. Rolling his eyes, Kenneth turned his gaze back to Marnie. 

“Do you accept my offer, miss?” 

Marnie immediately dropped to her knees and hugged Kenneth, sobbing and shouting “Yes!” multiple times. 

“The heart-warming sight inspired the others to cheer and celebrate the new relationship. Everyone hugging each other in pure happiness.” 

True to his word, the others cheered and praised the new couple, throwing flower petals—Which they got from seemingly nowhere—into the air and embracing each other. 

Amidst the chaos, Elora crouched beside Kenneth, “Break her heart and I’ll break your legs.” She whispered in a threatening tone. 

“I’d like to see you try.” He replied with an unimpressed glare, but then tilted his head in consideration, “…But if I do break her heart, I’d let you.” 

The girl gave him a small smile and nodded. The three of them stood up and they all faced the audience. 

“And so, the Prince and Drizella started dating and the King could rest easy knowing his son was in a stable relationship. As for Cinderella and Anastasia, they moved away some years later and built their own lives. As the years passed, the couple fell more in love, and eventually got married. They all lived happily ever after. The end.” 

The audience cheered as the actors present bowed, followed by Benjamin and Daniel who ran onstage to bow as well. Eventually, they got off the stage and the gym’s lights turned on, signaling the audience to leave. 

“That was so fun!” Chika cheered backstage. Several cries of agreement responded. 

“I’m pretty sure I was shaking the entire time…” Marnie admitted as she sighed in relief, “You think anyone noticed?” 

“I think you did wonderfully.” Kenneth reassured her with a hand on her shoulder. Marnie smiled and nodded gratefully. 

“For a play put together by teenagers, I admit it wasn’t that bad.” Advik commented off-handedly. 

“Soo, what grade did we get?” Elora asked their teacher, grinning brightly. 

“I’m not grading it now. You three will get your grades after the festival is over.” 

“Wait, so, what do we get?” Kenneth asked, gesturing to himself, and the five others who helped them with the play. 

“Well, since the six of you weren’t assigned the project in the first place, I can’t give you a grade.” Advik stated with an unbothered shrug, “And whether or not you get extra points for it is up to your own teachers.” 

“So, we get no compensation?” Kikka asked. 

“I believe that’s up to them.” Advik gestured to his three students before walking away, deciding he had better things to do. 

“…How about we take you all out to dinner?” Frederick suggested after an awkward silence had settled over them. 

“Sounds great!” Chika agreed. 

Later that evening, the group found themselves in a French restaurant, lively with chatter, and squeezed around a table. 

“I can’t believe we didn’t realize it was graded…” Frederick commented idly. 

“Yeah, and I suppose we did see that grading rubric he put on those assignment papers.” Elora huffed as she bitterly took another bite of her food, “But I just thought it was there so we’d know what was expected of the play!” 

“Well, this school is known for taking it’s extra-curricular activities stupidly seriously.” Felix commented, “Really, we should have known better.” 

“I suppose it was a good thing we followed the rubric regardless of whether it was graded or not.” Marnie laughed. As the one assigned to writing the play, she’d been given the rubric as something to base off of. 

“Thank God you weren’t foolish enough to ignore the rubric completely.” Kikka sighed, “I’m honestly glad I’m not actually being given a grade.” 

“Here, here!” Daniel yelled in a mock cheer. 

The group laughed and chatted until they’d finished their food and it was time to leave.  

“You know, all things considered, I had a lot of fun being in the play!” Chika stated as they walked back to their dorms. 

“Yeah.” Frederick laughed in agreement, “I suppose, in the end, all that matters is that we enjoyed it.” 

[yes-sassy-stuff]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Peter Pan Walt Disney Masterpiece VHS 45th Anniversary Factory Sealed Limited Ed.

[itssimplesimblr]

I double dog dare you for gen 6 to have ten kids.

don’t tempt me!!!

[theeighth]

does anyone have a defined music taste ? K strikes me as the type of person to vibe to 'devil town' by cavetown

AH THANK YOU, I would like to know what makes you feel that way? is the lyrics or the style of the song? I'm curious! (since I'm kind of bad getting the hidden meanings in english songs).

Evelyn: Pop / Boybands/ Kpop

Armin: Anime music / crazy stuff

Dezy: Sexy lyrics + Dancing sound= YES

Renae: punk rock

Skender: Metal, anything hard and heavy (but has some guilty pleasures with romantic pop songs)

Odette: Orchestral

Galen: Instrumental music

Derren: Classical and/or signed by a very virtuous voice

Gyges: Rock pop

Luka: Music with tribal style or hippie vibes

K: He changes from very hardcore to very calm music

Zareth: All kinds of rock (metal, goth, etc) but he also has guilty pleasures with the silliest songs

Filza: You probably have never listened it before (?)

[sparring-spirals]

re: "man someone suggested a good tag name for them and i DO NOT REMEMBER IT" was it sunset tree?? think i saw that somewhere on your blog once

AHA, YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT, thank you! Its a great tag, smart anon, unfortunately my memory IS unreliable.

Anyway, I'll be using both that and and the other tag I'd chosen, #lusk, and we'll hope both or either of them stick in my brain :'D