#man theres a lot to say here and this is jumbled

[ashyjingles]

jason grace headcanons

as requested by @sacrifical-lamb-core

ive been known to enjoy some more feral leaning jason grace but this is more of an authoritative take on his personality if you will. feel free to add to or dispute anything i have here!! this is all kind of a jumbled mess of first-come-first-serve deal in my head and i have yet to go through and weed any out

he has problems with authority. not outwardly; in fact, to everyone else, he’s the picture perfect kid who follows all of the rules. but that’s because he’s terrified of what would happen if he stepped out of line. he grew up with lupa, who was incredibly harsh to ensure survival in her pups. and then when he got to the legion, all of the officers were required to uphold the law. jason saw what happened to people who stepped the line, and the results were never pretty. (in son of neptune they mentione tying someone in a bag with weasels and throwing them in the little tiber for fuck’s sake) he grew scared to even TOE the line. 

because of the previous hc, he’s scared of kids. he knows how rambunctious they get, and he knows that if it came down to it, he would have to punish them and follow through on it by necessity. its what all his predecessors did after all. but he doesn't want to harm them. hes always had that soft spot for the new and/or younger kids. so he’s not scared of kids themselves, he’s scared of being the one to give them consequences to their potential actions. he leaves that to someone else with more guts

the previous two leave him with a lot of cognitive dissonance that he never really gets over. he’s an incredibly empathetic person and no matter how much he tries he can never really stop that feeling of regret when he has to punish someone who clearly regrets their actions. but give them an inch and they'll take a mile. he has major problems with dissociation where he removes his sense of self from the scenario and lets his logical processing take over without any emotion. reyna has had to pull him back from it a few too many times.

between the dissociation, magical amnesia, adhd, and constant brain damage, that boy has one of the worst memories youve ever seen

he really likes steak. specifically rare steak. (wolf!jason truther…)

he can see electrical currents! and can. see? wind currents. its more of a knowing the wind currents are there without thinking about them rather than a visual thing though. its how despite his poor eyesight he was an excellent fighter before he got the glasses

jason has really sharp canines! so does thalia! they get it from their mom, who filed her own canines down for a softer appearance and would have done the same to her kids once they were old enough for that type of dental work. 

jason is left handed, but because of military-style training early on it was forcibly trained out of him either because nobody realized he was left-handed or because they looked down on left-handedness for the sake of unanimity in the formations on the field. he just thinks hes naturally ambidextrous

gay. mlm. boy kisser for certain that man does NOT like girls. he treated reyna and piper the exact same despite one of them being his girlfriend (and treated reyna in a way where she thought he might have liked her back) because he treats them both in accordance to his emotions toward them: ie, he likes both platonically, which is why theres no difference. he just cant tell.

he fucking LOVES mint. says brushing his teeth and chugging a cold glass of water makes his mouth feel like being up in the air and 15 thousand feet with the wind in face.

he’s half asian! beryl grace is asian (i usually go with either thai or vietnamese) and usually i just went with wasian but then the show came out and now i go with blasian. or maybe beryl grace is wasian? whatever the case, i always pictured him and thalia as having some sort of asian descent.

hes really good at archery. dont tell anyone its just him controlling the winds though

hes such a dog person oh my god

his eyes light up like circuits/lightning when he uses his powers. specifically his lightning powers. 

jason doesnt have dyslexia but he does have dyscalculia. like, really bad dyscalculia. but he still greatly prefers reading in latin!

jason hated reading for the longest time because they didnt have any books purely for enjoyment on base. in new rome itself they had bookstores with plenty of books. (they were mostly classics because they didnt have too much contact with the rest of the world, but they were more than just military reports or old historic scrolls you needed express permission to even breath on) but when he discovers newer books he finds himself really liking them! though his favourite genre is definitely classics, and when someone breaks the news to him that he couldve had these books the entire time hes devastated

when he was younger he was better at latin than english because most kids who arrive at camp jupiter know english already and theyre well equipped at teaching people latin, but not english. they had to send him to a school off base/in new rome for younger kids to learn some more rudimentary skills

it was under juno’s orders that he lived on base. she wanted him to be as prepared as possible for his future, which meant starting his training bright and early. otherwise he probably would have spent some time in camp jupiter as a normal kid until he could at least, oh i dunno, read and write. tie his shoes. eat with cutlery. take a bath by himself.

if jason had been there long enough without the swap ever happening, when he stepped down from praetor (not for another longggg few years) he would have done law in new rome. 

if post swap jason grace had the opportunity to do law in new rome, he would have pushed for rules regarding kids safety. of course, if another jason case were to happen nobody would have been able to deny a god(dess) but jason was never a normal case, was he?

can you tell i like lawyer!jason

less of a headcanon more of commentary on his character but as strong of a character as he was, camp half blood taught him how to have a back bone. in rome he was incredibly disciplined and had no trouble ordering other people around, but it was always in accordance with new rome’s laws. camp half blood taught him how to abide by his own moral principles rather than ones that someone else gave to him. (after all, new rome was about unity while chb was about individuality.) 

he honestly really likes his work as pontifex maximus. it fulfills his inner desire to be doing the ‘right’ thing by rome’s standards (especially because the title is highly revered) while giving him the room to express his creative desires, which is something that he had never been able to do. its also not at the cost of someone else, which usually ended up happening when he was upholding the law as praetor

this one works in contrast or in tandem with my previous bullet on his sexuality (specifically the comment on how he treated piper and reyna): he knew that reyna had a crush on him. he didnt know why he couldnt feel the same. queer culture wasnt really a thing in the modern world for the time it took place, and i dont imagine new rome was any more progressive. he didnt understand lots of things about his sexuality at the time. he didnt know that not liking girls might have been an option, and that he didnt have to like reyna back. so he tried his best to convince himself into having feelings for her, which led to reyna thinking they were reciprocated. once he met piper, that confusion happened all over again and even without his memories he found himself repeating the process

his favourite is blue like the sky, and ironically his and thalia’s eyes

thalias eyes are slightly darker than jason’s. more grey as well. jason’s are the brightest fucking blue youve ever seen. think the clearest, sunniest day youve ever seen, and it still doesnt hold a candle to his eyes. thalias are more like the sky before a storm.

jason can feel (along with see as given by previous bullet) electrical currents. he could feel someone switching a light switch from half a mile away if he thought about it

hes constantly brimming with static electricity and WILL shock everything he touches. a handshake? you get shocked. he tries to open a car door? literal sparks. as a kid he had to wear electricity resistant gloves because he didnt have a hold on it and it became dangerous because when his emotions are heightened, so are his powers. if he gets angry or excited or sad the air around him smells like ozone, and sometimes you can even see the sparks

cows really like him. straight up adore him. theyre his favourite animal!

he smells like ink, ozone, and something metallic. some people say blood, but hazel says its something like copper or nickel

[oboes-bos-hoes]

The byler brainrot is real and taking over, so let me share some lyrics from my fave songs that give me byler vibes

links for the songs will be at the end of the post

"Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down, when they do, I'll be right behind you" - Everybody wants to rule the world by Tears for Fears

(this is gonna be a long post)

"I'd die at the thought of the loss of your heart" - Love is reason by a-ha

"I'd never mean to hurt you, baby, I'm not that kind of man; I might not say I'm sorry, yeah, I might talk tough sometimes, and I might forget the little things, or keep you hanging on the line" - I'd die for you by Bon Jovi

"Something happens and I'm head over heels, I never find out until I'm head over heels" - Head over heels / broken by Tears for Fears

"I've done all I can do, all the letters I've sent through; put my life in the palms of your hands, maybe now you can see, that it's got to be me, but if you leave me, I'll understand" - You are the one by a-ha (THIS LINE IS LIKE. SO MIKE WHEELER CODED??)

"Turn in my sleep, a bad dream is over, think of you and shall I ever recover?" - I want to wake up by Pet shop boys

(fun fact, the lead singer of pet shop boys, Neil Tennant, is gay :D)

(this means theres gonna be a lot of songs from them in here bc gay boi in the 80s??) (also they r my fav band/pop duo(?) so. )

'It's mad, to be in love with someone else, when you're in love with he, she's in love with me, but you know as well as I do I can never think of anyone but you" - I want to wake up by Pet shop boys (this is kinda jumbled but if u kind of like. pretend that it makes sense for byler then it makes sense so go away)

"To fall in love, is it so uncool?" - I want to wake up by Pet shop boys ("i'm not.. gonna fall in love")

"Every time I see you something happens to me, like a chain reaction, between you and me, my heart starts missing a beat" - Heart by Pet shop boys

"If I didn't love you, I would look around for someone else, but every time I see you, you have the same effect, my heart starts missing a beat, my heart starts missing a beat, every time" - Heart by Pet shop boys

"Every time I see you, no matter what we do, there's a strange reaction, can you feel it too?" - Heart by Pet shop boys

"I don't care whether it's wrong or right, I want a lover tonight" - I want a lover by Pet shop boys

"Put your arms around me, it doesn't mean you love me, just that you want me and you need my company" - I want a lover by Pet shop boys (ok Micheal we get it, its just a hug)

"I'll never let you see, the way my broken heart is hurting me, I've got my pride and I know how to hide all my sorrow and pain, i'll do my crying in the rain" - Crying in the rain by a-ha (i'll do my crying in the van rain)

"And you think love is to pray, but I'm sorry I don't pray that way" - Tainted love by Soft Cell

"But now you're leaving... How many hearts must you break? How many calls must I make? But now you're leaving... In this world, all that I choose has come unbearable, but love is in your touch, ooh, it's killing me so much, only when you leave I need to love you" - Only when you leave - Spandau ballet

"Yeah she's my man" - She's my man by Sigue Sigue Sputnik (mike wheelerr) (i'll let u figure this out, i dont wanna try make a whole point here)

"You always wanted me to be something I wasn't" - What have i done to deserve by Pet shop boys (everytime i hear this lyric i get so sad)

welp that is it for noowww but feel free to reblog with ur fav byler coded lyrics :)

SONG LINKS:

ONLY 10 AUDIOS PER POST?????? WHY?? THATS SO DUMB WTF TUMBLR

last one is She's My Man by Sigue Sigue Sputnik

[lawlightfan42069]

ok so I wanna go into psych as like a career or something, but I always see tumblr complain of "neurotypical psychiatrists™" and all that so I was wondering (yeah wait ok for context I am neurotypical) how can I avoid being the Neurotypical™? not in a "I wish I was underprivileged so I could have something to complain about" ofc (in case that's how I came off) but I think you get what im asking?? hopefully

well the big thing id keep in mind is that you have to Listen to neurodivergent people about their experiences. this might seem simple and straightforward but hooo boy u have no clue how often we are not listened to, how our problems are dismissed, how our understanding of Our Own Mental Illnesses is seen as not as important. the biggest problem w neurotypical psych majors and the like is that they prioritize Their understanding of neurodivergence over what neuodivergent people are saying. like pls just listen!! and dont think that bc u took an intro to psych class like Once u suddenly have a better grasp of what its like to be nd than actual people who are nd. dont lecture nd people because u think u know better than them. dont talk down to us or treat us like we are secondary sources in our own lives. i cannot stress this enough like just Listen and stay in ur lane i swear if u do these two things ur ahead of a solid 80% of neurotypical psych majors already lmfao. and whenever you can please correct your fellow neurotypical people if u see them doing shitty things call them out on it. if u find urself being called out by a neurodivergent person Listen To Them Holy Shit bc as a nt person ur probably gonna fuck up inevitably so Listen when nd people tell u that you did. 

this is really the biggest thing. if u really want to assist nd people in any sense youve got to listen to us about our realities. dont dismiss problems because they dont seem to u to be problems. and  don’t act like just bc youve meet one nd person youve met them all Like i am but one nd person and someone elses experiences are sure to differ from mine so dont use /my/ experience to tell another person ‘no its not like that’ and also dont use another persons experience to tell me ‘no its not like that.’ whenever possible find a way to give a platform for neurodivergent people Because trust me my dude the neurotypical voice is way Way overrepresented in the field l m f a o find a way to help nd people be heard bc we are often not. boost neurodivergent voices whenever u can. dont speak on behalf of people if u can make them heard directly. also neurodivergent people often have their own communities for discussing stuff and in that case just stay out of them. those communities arent for u..dont intrude or come in thinking u can give advice Or just in any way think ur entitled to neurodivergent peoples communities just bc ur a psych major. and be aware of ableism!! its really such a wide and vast issue that i cant rly hope to cover it in a concise way here but Always make urself aware of things that are ableist and try to adjust ur behavior. being aware of ableism is so incredibly important and u wouldnt believe how many psych students just really fucking arent. im not just talking about the overt ways that everyone can recognize as ableism, but the more subtle ways it often manifests.

also while im alright with answering this question please dont act like every nd person in ur day to day life has to be a Representative and explain every thing to you. we dont exist as lessons to teach neurotypical people so dont demand that we live our Every Second of our lives to teach u. this is different than going into a general setting designed for conversation- im saying like if u know ur friend is depressed dont treat as if they have to like The Representative of Their Disorder every second of the day. take the time to educate urself. also when u do know nd people, dont try to say things like “haha yeah i deal with that too” if theyre detailing stuff that impacts them bc of their mental health p l e a s e dont do that. u might think ur harmlessly relating to them But in fact u are continuing a trend in which symptoms that mentally ill ppl must deal with are “essentially the same” as what a neurotypical person goes through. so So often symptoms are met with “everyone goes through that” and its just simply not true so dont perpetuate that. 

please Please dont do the thing that i see so many nt psych majors do where theyre all “i want to get into this field because the mentally ill people are so Fascinating :) their brains are so Interesting to examine :)’ bc it feels so… dehumanizing i think is the best word. there is ways to phrase a desire to learn more and educate urself about human psychology Without sounding dehumanizing. one of the biggest issues in the field is the way neurodivergent people are treated as less than human. watch out for the way u discuss neurodivergent people and Ask urself if the way ur talking sounds like youre discussing cattle. treat nd people as less than human is probably one of the biggest and most ingrained issues in the field so keep it in mind pretty much always. and please Please especially dont turn this mentality onto ur nd friends. dont try to psychoanalyze them out of nowhere like that not every single nd person u meet exists to be a Study for u. on top of that its really othering. nd people are in fact People so treat them as such. we’re not case studies for u.

also (and this is true for literally every nt person regardless) dont try to pull the ‘we’re all a little bit depressed xD’ or ‘nobody is Really neurotypical we’re all different’ bc all it does is delegitimize the specific experiences that nd people have had for being neurodivergent. like No we’re not all “a little  ___” and by claiming so u erase the things that we have to deal with Specifically for being neurodivergent by pretending its a thing that impacts people equally. and also other general nt things to keep in mind- advice like “drink some water and do yoga” is 100% entirely fucking useless literally always i can guarantee u nobody wants to hear it.dont claim you support nd people and then turn around and support ableist ways of thinking/humor. dont…please just fucking dont…. do the stuff like “Heres the mental illness that donald trump (or any bad person) has xD” please stop equating being mentally ill with being a fundamentally bad person. really in general stray away from giving anyone unwanted advice and dont think that whatever courses youve taken make u an expert on any individuals neurodivergence more than they are. 

[qblester]

dream i Keep having loosely tried To be written here

The first part of the dream is entirely unconnected, as it always is. It’s normal even, just jumbled sensory Input and like memories of daily life And such. and then something Just kind of happens. i keep Saying that like Just kind of or Other modifiers and Such its because its just Not correct. i dont know.

but its Like normal like im at work or Something and then something is Wrong like its broken or Its like it Changes and its wrong and im Hurt like it just hurts and i Dont know why or its Like no indication of what and then its a state of Fear of

He’s dragged himself to a closet He’s reminded of a funfact he had learned at some point, when cats are injured they hide in order to die alone. Something like that. There’s a sort of surge in his chest. Its; funny, embarassing, upsetting, uplifting, Leitmotif-ouroborus-continuance and hes crying over it. Putting himself in a corner, creating his own issue, and then crying over it.

This part is fucked because i should be able to fix it, he’s a doctor, anatomist, whatever. He’s fucking whatever, but he knows this kind of thing. It’s just wrong. Like scrambled? or not, like it Looks normal, but then its not But it registers as How it should be but it doesnt Connect to my internal Concept

He’s waiting, but not really to die. He doesn’t want to. He’s never wanted to. He’s not supposed to hes never going to because hes not done. He didn’t figure it out. Its not over, because he hasn’t decided its over.

and then At or towards a later part i spend a Lot of time in the dark theres a Lot of time in the dark and a good portion of the dream gets spent in the dark there in the dark Of the closet. He just really seems To lose time there. i Dont know.

its like witting Kind of but its not her and its Not his mom and its not krissa or any of the Other women he knows and its not a man And its not anything to Him like it doesnt register and then you have to wonder and she Apologizes to me and i cry and its Like that and an Apologetic gun in The mouth small firearm Specifically upside down barrel To the middle Roof mouth uncomfortably Wide open and she Doesnt.

and then i Usually wake up after like an Unknown amount of time held like that Also.

[mathieubellamont]

As a Hirrus Clutumnus stan I got to hear your 2 pieces on him. Also, as a mentally ill person, what are your thoughts on Shivering Isles? (There are parts I rlly vibe with but I understand a lot of it is played for laughs, and I've never had psychosis so idk how people who experience that feel about it. i can only see it from a depression/anxiety/ocd lense)

ooooooooo youre bringing in the REAL good questions here

Heads up for mentions of suicide and assisted suicide, oh and spoilers for an old as fuck game

So, for a long but necessary background, because if Im gonna talk on this i need to be explicit where I'm coming from regarding it, I have StPD AKA diagnosed shivering isles resident at psychiatrist disorder. That for me includes delusions and a lot of paranoia, perceptual hallucinations, magical thinking, highly spiritual angle to life... actually ironic this question comes in now bc my deity has been like. get into and talk about madness for a few days now. take that as an example if you want, including a lot of reading of signs and stuff. basically. talking to things that most people dont think can talk, eccentricity in thought processes and dress and speaking, issues speaking outloud bc words and sentences get jumbled/etc, and connecting the dots between things that aren't related (eg "if I turn this light on the grass outside will stop growing and the farmer will get mad"). Its... also relevant to answering this in a different way to say that Im autistic so... I kinda struggle with discerning the intent behind creating the Isles (like, as you said, being played for laughs) vs the homely feeling I personally get from it.

So yeah, tldr i fucking FEEL the isles, and i may not be the best at interpreting them right

On to the answer (under read more only bc its long)

Hirrus:

Oh man, seriously, as someone whos struggled with depression for a long ass time and..... relevant feelings...... I LOVE how brutally honestly Hirrus is approached. Actually that tends to be one of my favourite parts of how the Isles are approached in general, in that they don't shy away from the brutality of mental illness. Its not just "haha funny goofy land" its "bunch of people brought together by Issues" Like... I know the brutality is probably to show that Sheogorath is a DAEDRIC PRINCE not to be taken lightly (although i am SURE there were a lot of people struggling w mental issues on the Isles dev team who wanted to depict it like this for the sake of realism) but like... Mental illness as Im sure you get as a Hirrus Stan is not just quirky little things but something that devastates lives. It doesnt JUST do that but ill get to that in the overall isles opinion. I think no matter whether the developers are mentally ill or not, if theyre going to approach these topics there needs to be a level of "yep this is fucked up" - in a VERY specific way though. If Hirrus was played in a way that was about the HoK's horRor and suFferINg meeting Hirrus id be like. ew. but since youre literally just meeting someone going through SHIT in a fantasy world.... Oh, the fantasy world bit is super relevant. I think id have some issues with it if it was in our world - the whole hill of suicides thing is absolutely extremely relevant imo as to why this is not just acceptable but a great bit of storytelling. "The real world is dark and dangerous, help someone kill themselves"= dangerous DANGEROUS thing to put in a story. "Im going to show you how fucked up this fantasy world is, and its so fucked up that it turns helping someone kill themselves into a merciful and good bit of storytelling"= good. i like that. The way its implemented is really good storytelling IMO.

On the Isles themselves:

I think it boils down to... Theres a fine line to be walked when talking about mental illness, and even if its played for laughs, they still did it right. Well, i mean. For an old game.

Tbh?? I dont think mental illness, as i touched upon above, is just about devastation and loss and struggles, its also like.... A fantastic thing. I dont have a love-hate relationship w my StPD but a love-....babysit. relationship. Some days its awful like when im convinced bad triggering shit i wont mention is about to happen, somedays my perceptual hallucinations kick in and the world is suddenly oversaturated colours and burningly hi definition, somedays it really helps with grounded things in that i tend to be creative bc i can see reality in weird ways, or it helps (SOMETIMES) with divination and whatnot. But its always something less of a horror assigned to me and more of a confused seriously sight-impaired clone who cant see the world properly and i have to guide them around - StPD comes in between me and my ability to perceive the world around me. The whole display of the divided isles is, yes, a litttlleeee outdated bc i think its meant to partially reference bipolar disorder which, kinda gross thing to do but i guess understandable if you know fuck all about not insulting mentally ill people, and using words like dementia as an aesthetic is a little off-putting, but its so.... homely to have this stark acceptance that illness is a huge consuming SWAMP of a fuckin thing, twisted and dangerous, but also fantastical, inviting, super/post-real.... Mania is my fucking favourite area bc yeah. it approaches what life feels like when the good StPD Issues kick in. This divide also really shows how StPD and similar illnesses work, but colouring (pun intended given the colour schemes) your world view, and turning everyday things (trees, animals) into horrific, desolate things - or weird, beautiful, fantastical things because thats what it FEELS like. plus i think just because some of the devs intended to make this world in reference to a few things, doesnt mean the end product isnt an accurate portrayal of other things. Just because im sure some were like "oo lets use bipolar/dementia/etc for aesthetics" and got it wrong, doesnt mean its not an accurate depiction of other unrelated mental illnesses.

Thats a little subjective but.... on a different note. I think a HUGE thing that makes the Isles work for being a good/palatable depiction as opposed to a bad one is the fact that the Hero BECOMES SHEOGORATH. and the whole questline leading up where you BECOME a member of the isles and really get to know them is..... Is so so paramount to how this Works so it isnt just some zoo you stroll around. Youre either With the Isles AND their population or..... the questline isnt for you. Another HUGE thing is the fact that everyone just......... ugh how do i put this bc of course theres conflict between characters in the isles..... But it just feels like home having StPD where theres this place that everyone has their own thing going on and no one really condemns them for it, not in the way real life does, like. Ah. I guess id say it like: itd be boring as shit if every character was like "oh my GOD everyone around me is CRAZYYYY not ME though" like.... when you have groups of friends that are all Mentally Ill Luv x you can sort of relax and all be your own various shades of the rainbow you know?? Real life tends to see me have to train myself to act normal and not display illness symptoms bc im the odd one out for some reason. The Isles is..... So you know that study done showing how autistics struggle socially with non autistics but can get along fine together? Yeah reminds me of that, where NTs will condemn and belittle and other everyone with serious mental illness - and so if youre a NT youd think that NDs would do the same, just like non autistics think autistics couldnt communicate together - but it takes a level of insight into this to understand in a lot of our friend groups we.... dont fall apart, we actually start to understand each other as similar in different ways. We find other ways to have cohesive social groups without all being in touch with the same version of reality. Whether the devs meant the isles as thought out like that or "haha imagine people being sooooo crazy they dont even know other people are crazy" well, we wont know, but again - an inaccurate attempt to portray one thing can turn into an accurate way to portray another.

Plus, honestly.... There comes a point where, like the whole "theres no ethical consumption under capitalism" thing, I think it matters less the devs intentions and more how the consumer consumes it. If youre NT and like it? I think the issue is when its "haha weird ass crazy people funny, im so glad im not these dudes hey look at how stupid they are", but if youre approaching it like "damn this is a wacky place where people have some serious issues and im going to enjoy the storyline and the humour without treating it like a digital freak show" then i mean.... Idk. Not sure on that angle logically but I do know I dont have that jugdmental reaction to people enjoying it when they arent like the people depicted in the isles

Tldr: I like it. Its either well thought out or a bunch of happy accidents. I think that we can all argue/debate on the intent behind it? Which, if this was created by one singular person, would be EXTREMELY relevant, but since its a whooooole dev team IMO the individual intents matter a little less than the end product as an independent thing. And because of that, the fact that it feels so much like home to people like me, and because yes, it may be played for laughs, but a lot of it (Hirrus for one great example) really is not meant to be funny, and because youre MEANT to become a part of it (and therefore see these people as YOUR people), i think........ Its perfectly alright to really appreciate the isles and enjoy its depiction of people like me - i mean... Lets be honest here.... If it was inaccurate, you wouldnt have as many people on the schizospec and psychotic spec being like damn we love this as we do have

[blueskittlesart]

From someone whose only Zelda game was tp, what makes the story so bad in comparison? (Or I guess, just bad in general?)

hmm well it’s difficult to go into specifics without getting into baseline zelda lore, because tp’s story is heavily reliant on the player already knowing the story of oot. it hinges so heavily on this that the game can’t stand on its own, and instead requires the player to make logical jumps based on preexisting lore in order to piece together what story it has. even with this knowledge, the story was really hard for me to follow. (and that’s saying a lot, because i’ve been obsessed with zelda lore since i was 11. if there’s a story to be found in these games i can and will find it.) the game tells you that link’s village is attacked, that he’s turned into a wolf and has to speak with zelda and gather the fused shadows. however, it makes a big show of not telling you WHY you have to do this. there’s also very little explanation about the change in atmosphere in hyrule after your first transformation. youre told that hyrule is all dark now because… twilight? shadows??? something like that. after that, there’s so much padding in between story elements that it absolutely ruins whatever flow the game might have had. your quest to save ilia and the children is interrupted by your quest for the fused shadows, which is interrupted by an attack by that big ass bokoblin boss… and none of these interruptions seem to tie back into any of the central elements of the story. to begin with, it doesn’t even seem like tp HAS any central elements—its got an atmosphere, sure, and some quests to go on, but theres no theme, nothing to tie it all together outside of the main quest itself. (that’s something that the manga does an AMAZING job adding in tho.) anyway, the individual dungeons and quests have very little keeping them connected, and by the time midna mans up and tells you what the hell you’ve been doing this for you don’t really care, because youve already forgotten that she refused to tell you in the first place while stuck doing 16 mandatory filler quests with no tie-in. the game relies on not telling you the story for long enough that by the time you get there you don’t care that it doesn’t even make much sense. who is ganondorf? if you hadn’t played oot you’d have no idea and the game makes no effort to explain to you. whats the significance of the triforce, of the sages, of ANY OF THIS? who cares, here’s a cutscene of link fighting himself. that looks sick as hell who cares if it doesn’t actually make sense at all. it really honestly feels like they wanted to make a gritty sequel to oot but then cut all the elements that coherently tied it back to oot, and what we’re left with is a jumble of disconnected plot points and weird almost-callbacks that technically do form a narrative, but it’s not a compelling or even completely coherent one.

[gayregis]

if you've read season of storms is it any good? i read a sample and was kind of bored but i don't want to spend money on it if it's going to be like,,,,,,,,,lady of the lake

reading this i was like “wait lady of the lake was good though,” then i paused to actually think about it as a cohesive narrative for a bit, and went “actually wait never mind :/...” it was good thematically, and there were a lot of great scenes, but like as a whole book... if you could only read that book on its own... it would be very long and confusing. i just think lotl’s good because i do the uncivilized thing of skipping around to the parts i like and then i don’t read the parts i dislike

but luckily i have already ranted about season of storms before, and i’ll post that rant here now. for context, i actually read season of storms from cover to cover... yeah.

overall, it's a disorganized and aimless plot. it's set inbetween tlw and sod, so there's no quest to find ciri, because geralt hasnt met ciri yet, he's still our free bachelor geralt. which means hes still quite directionless and when it comes to his personal life it's mostly preoccupied with romance. but more importantly it means the plot is incredibly aimless and NOT PERSONAL to geralt, like all the stories in TLW and SOD and all the saga books revolve around events and people super meaningful to him. what happens in the plot is a whole JUMBLE of things that feel like sidequests from the witcher games, not a story from the witcher books. nothing really means anything for geralt's character development, and it suffers from being so long because there's like a lot of different settings and characters and everything just seems completely thrown together, mashed up, and not coordinated. 

i will admit that baptism of fire & tower of the swallow followed a style of “random encounters” in which geralt and the company traverse on and just interact with whatever they happen to find, but it felt like they were accruing knowledge (and also. members of the company) as they travelled on. in season of storms, it feels like geralt starts over and the entire book resets itself every time there is a new scene. none of the plotlines fit together, so it is just a super confusing and exhausting reading experience, unlike in bof & tos, where you can follow the action quite easily and it’s very pleasant to read because it’s all one continuous storyline.

in addition, all of these mashed up stories are pointless, because they dont END with the reader learning anything about the universe the characters live in or their relationships with each other. we might learn that sorcerers are power-hungry, but we already knew that. we might learn that people are violent and corrupt, but we already knew that. we might learn that geralt loves yennefer, but we already knew that. in the short stories, you learn so much about the world and geralts relationships (for example: we learn so much about the situations surrounding the elves in edge of the world, so it’s worth reading because otherwise you will not understand anything when the scoia’tael show up in blood of elves and later in the saga). and in the saga, this continues and more worldbuilding/relationship building occurs (geralt and ciri’s relationship grows from a question of price and then becomes crazy right around baptism of fire when they’re super linked by destiny). it really doesnt in season of storms. you don’t learn anything meaningful about the world or the characters like in the other witcher books.

another large flaw is that in the stories and saga, sapkowski was really good at creating likeable, enigmatic characters no matter how few pages he had to create them. they were deep and almost lifelike and also usually told a larger message. the NPCs- sorry, "characters" in season of storms are SUPER flat and uninteresting.

coral is h*rny for geralt and jealous of yennefer, like every sorceress ever to exist, pratt is a dick and corrupt, degerlund is corrupt and evil, mosaik is timid, the werewolf guy is JUST THERE, the auguara isn’t super interesting despite being cool, nimue feels flatter as a character than usual, even dandelion- okay actually jk i liked dandelion he was the sunny part of this book AS ALWAYS ... ofc he felt one-dimensional but he usually does so you know, EVEN GERALT feels a little one-dimensional and not his typical introspective self

one of the worst things sapkowski did was [SPOILERS] make the major villain character of the book gay and feminine... like its mentioned SO many times that "ohhhh this is a man that looks like a woman WOW HOW EVIL!" and he literally does the worst things like rip ppl to shreds and want to kill geralt painfully by torture with syringes, also he uses his sexuality to ?? seduce an older sorcerer to be his favorite so he can keep his job as a sorcerer?? 

and OK vilgefortz and bonhart arent complex villains. but theyre despicable and it feels a little deeper bc vilgefortz has that backstory and hunger for power, and bonhart is just terrifying and the embodiment of wretched evil, this guy from season of storms is just annoying and anime villainy like “OOHOHOH watch how i kill you now >:)” also theres a lot of crass humor like fart jokes and villains that are described as really super ugly like omg wow never saw that one coming!!! it just feels super bland and basic and almost like the antithesis of The Witcher as short stories and a saga, super out of place with the rest of the series. [END SPOILERS]

in my opinion, the BIGGEST FLAW with season of storms is that since the plot is so all over the place, and since the characters are so flimsy, the entire book feels meaningless. it feels like it would appease games or netflix fans who just want to read about geralt going on some crazy adventures, and it does serve that purpose, but it is NOT a “book belonging to the witcher series.” it has no depth where there should be... i do not feel like sapkowski is trying to tell me something as a reader about human nature, or the nature of parent-child relationships, or society, or violence and war... 

it just feels like geralt is doing all of this shit just because sapkowski had some remaining ideas and wanted to get all of them out into the world all in the same book, like sewing a vest out of fabric scraps. it was not refined like the witcher saga, because none of them were really meant to fit together anyways, and because they weren’t meant to fit together, there is a distinct lack of message and substance to it.

TLDR: no cohesive narrative and a confusing plot, no deeper underlying message or arguments about humanity or society or nature being made by the author, cheap new side & background characters, no ciri and no yennefer so geralt is quite directionless and stupid

other remarks that are just my personal preferences and comments:

geralt & dandelion:

geralt mostly works alone in this book... which is... not my favorite. this is why i got bored with tw3 after i read the witcher books, because i can’t stand geralt being alone, the world feels so... lonely! although he meets up with dandelion and has an affair with coral in season of storms, most of the book is him waffling about with side and background characters that i couldn’t care less about because sapkowski put no effort into developing them to be enigmatic or at least lifelike and likable (unlike some really minor characters in the witcher saga that, although they were so minor, were incredibly likable: for example, applegatt and toruviel i quite like). 

of course, i also have a preference for when geralt hangs out with dandelion, because it usually creates more of a lighter tone for the scenes and a more humorous nature overall, plus geralt changes his personality to be not in such a bad mood and we get to see him being kind and friendly. so it annoys me that although dandelion has some scenes with geralt, they never really have deep conversations like they do in a little sacrifice, or witty remarks & banter like in the edge of the world... i feel like dandelion was quite in-character for the whole book, which is good, but also, he’s dandelion so he’s pretty easy to get in character. he’s just easy-going, arrogant, preoccupied with earthly delights, cowardly, and friendly to geralt. but it annoyed me that their scenes together were both not very deep, and that they didn’t get as much interaction as i think they deserved. usually in a witcher book or story in which geralt and dandelion have met, they stay by each other’s side for like, the whole book or story, lmao... 

that being said, they do have some fun moments in this book and dandelion has some funny lines which i quite enjoy. like. they are eating at an inn, and the innkeeper asks them “how are you finding the pork?” and dandelion replies, “we’re finding it among the kasha. from time to time. not as often as we’d like to.” and somehow i just find that line so fucking funny... i think it’s just because it’s really relatable

sorcery:

coral is SOOOOO one-dimensional, she really is just like the same character as fringilla vigo or some other sorceress that’s jealous of yennefer for getting to bang geralt, and this lack of characterization is super transparent. people laugh about how many affairs geralt has had, but they never discuss how all of them have been super uneasy and unfulfilling.

already said that i hate degerlund as a character and all of the sorcerers being morally wack is predictable if you’ve read like, anything from the saga about the sorcerer/esses. also geralt talking with sorcerers is like, interesting if the sorcerer in question is vilgefortz, but everyone else is just super boring

other:

i didn’t really like ferrant de lettenhove until the very end of the book (which i won’t spoil) but because of this end, i wished that he got more backstory/development

NIMUE I LOVE YOU and it was nice that nimue got some more backstory in this.

i do enjoy the end of the book. not to say “my favorite part is when it ended,” but it’s true, because the ending in kerack is interesting and full of drama, the moments in the inn are alright if a little void of substance, the ending with geralt and dandelion on horseback is beautiful, and the epilogue with nimue is wistful and beautiful as well.

sheer pettiness:

oh my GOD why are the CHAPTERS so SHORT? it’s like, 20 chapters plus a bunch of interludes and an epilogue, and the book is only 357 pages long. it feels like as soon as i was getting into a scene, it switched to another chapter. i mean, idk whether i prefer this, or the haphhazard long as fuck chapters from baptism of fire where i’m not quite sure when a chapter begins or ends because i memorized the scenes and not when a chapter occurs. 

i dislike how coral is on the cover of it, even though it’s fitting, because if there was a work about... oh idk... the hansa... then angouleme could have been on the cover... and then i could have had geralt + yennefer + ciri + dandelion + the hansa on the covers... like wow that would be cool...

this book would have functioned much better as a series of short stories... i think sapkowski has talent for the short story medium, but novel-length books are more desirable by publishers, but this is literally just a guess, i don’t have anything to back this up

my recommendation: don’t buy it if you are just looking to read the witcher books as in, get a feel for the book canon world and characters. it’s pretty unnecessary for that. do buy it if you are a completionist like me / the witcher is something you’ve been into for years and you’re about to buy all the books as a set and it would feel weird to not have all eight books on your shelf and it’s only like $5 more to buy the set of 8 as compared to the set of 7. don’t read it and expect perfection, it’s basically like “drabbles” but canon from the author. there are like 2 or 3 nice gerlion moments if you care about that.

[crewhonk]

Henderson To The Rescue

Summary: In which Y/N Henderson saves a drunk Billy Hargrove from certain death. 

Words: 2,263

AN: I dont know if im a fan of this yet, but i hope you guys like my return from hiatus! I’m planning a few things right now and i have a week off from school so its lit. 

Pairing: Billy X Henderson!reader (slow burn, third person)

The first time Y/N Henderson met Billy Hargrove, it was on a cold April night. The cold air whipped through the front door when she opened it, and the hair on her legs stood on end in response. The wind blew her thick brown hair over her shoulders and suddenly the thick University of Toronto sweater she wore was no competition from the biting wind.

“Um, hello. Can I help you?” She smiled, showing as many white teeth as she could— her mother and her brother had always told her that her smile was a winning quality. And as far as she knew, this boy was something she wanted to win.

At her smile, he brought out his own smile, showing off sharp canine teeth and a tongue that swiped across his bottom lip. “I’m here for my baby sister. Maxine Mayfield? Goes by Max.”

Immediately, her smile dropped from her face and her posture grew rigid and straight-backed. Dustin had told her things about this man and she knew he was a time-bomb ready to go off. “Billy Hargrove,” she said. She watched his smile drop from his face and a look of frustration flashed in his eyes. “I’ve been told a lot about you. You can wait out here, I’ll go get Max.”

She turned and slammed the door in his face.

Later that summer, Y/N felt as if she should have stayed in Toronto. At least in Toronto, there were good sports, and cityscapes to explore forever and expensive coffee to drink. In Toronto, there was more to life than farming, and police stations and liquor.

There was also more than fighting God Damned Demogorgons.

“Steven! Get back to the car! They’re gone for now, but we don’t know when they’ll be back, and we are all out of ammo.” She screamed, running parallel to him in the forest. The rifle was gripped so tightly in her fist she felt as if the barrel of the gun would crumple under the pressure.

“What did I say about calling me Steven, Y/N?” He yelled back, his bat bouncing off his back. He jumped over a log and pressed himself against the tree, the side of the pistol barrel to his nose and breathing heavily. She was pressed against the tree adjacent to him and closed her eyes, shaking lightly.

“I will call you what I want, Steven. Now, go to the car. I’ll meet you at the Byers. I just need to get a walkie set from The Castle, and I’ll be there in ten minutes flat. Make sure those kids are safe.” You heard a growl from somewhere behind both of them and Y/N squeezed her eyes tightly, willing the fear that bubbled in her stomach away.

“Tell Dustin I’ll see him in ten minutes, and that I love him.”

“I’m not going to tell him that you love him, Y/N. You can do that yourself.” The growls were growing closer, and Y/N pressed herself harder into the bark.

“Steve. I’m going to need you to listen to me, for once.” You laughed, nervousness creeping into it. “Go to the car.” He hesitated before nodding once and sprinting East. She took a deep breath, cocked your rifle, and sprinted in the opposite direction.

She ran through the woods, and for some reason, the only thing she could think about was how impressed her high school gym coach would have been. She was never the athletic type. Y/N took after her mother, identical curls, and identical full figure. Sure, the gym membership at her UNI was paid through her tuition, but when a small town girl is let loose in a big city alone food will be eaten, and drinks will be consumed. So, long story short, Y/N was built like a Brick Shit House.

She sprinted down the forest path and leaped over rocks and fallen trees. She was on a roll, and if she knew there weren’t any demo dogs behind her, she would have stopped to pat herself on the back. That was until she ran headlong into a wall of flesh. She had tackled someone in the middle of the forest and what was even going on anymore. She was straddled on their lap, and the body underneath her had been knocked out of him.

She rolled off of him and finally looked at the person she had tackled, and the sight she was greeted with made her want to turn around and fight the dogs. It was Billy Hargrove, and he was very very drunk.

“Woah. An angel just came out of nowhere and tackled me. Is this a sign from God Himself?” He laughed, reaching for the still-lit cigarette and the empty bottle of beer on the forest floor. He swore when he discovered that it was empty and rolled around to rest his face on a moss-covered rock. There was another growl following his jumbled words, and this time it was so much closer than she would have liked.

“Hargrove. Dude. We need to skedaddle like, right now.” You urged, slinging your rifle over your shoulder and pulling at him to stand up.

“Skedaddle. Skedaddle. That’s a good one Princess.” He laughed, and it rumbled from deep within his chest. It had suddenly gone very quiet in the woods, and the silence that surrounded the both of you made you want to run.

“Billy. You need to get up.” You growled and pulled harder. He finally lifted his head from the rock and looked up at you.

“Hey! It’s the hot Henderson!” He crowed happily. The laughter was cut off when you slung the rifle around your torso. “Woah Woah Woah! Okay! I’ll get up okay?!”

“Stay down!” She whisper-yelled, aiming the rifle and firing at one of the monsters that had appeared from the shadows. She nailed it right in the snout and it flew through the air away from her. When she heard a howl from behind her, she spun and shot her gun three times, not being able to shoot it in the head, but hitting it instead several times in the muscle on its shoulder. When it had slowed down, and eventually retreated you flicked the safety on your gun so it wouldn’t accidentally shoot anyone and turned once more to Billy.

“Okay, we’re running now!” She yelled, not bothering to try to pull him up with her but instead jumping over his intoxicated body and sprinting for dear life. When she heard him crashing through the bushes behind her, she only pushed herself further and harder. She had completely abandoned the idea of getting her brother's walkie-talkies from the Castle and instead made a beeline for the house.

“Where are we going?” Billy yelled, trying his hardest to keep up with her. She certainly didn’t look like it, but Y/N Henderson was fast. When she didn’t respond, he put his head down and pushed his legs harder, feeling the familiar burn in his chest and the taste of copper on his tongue.

Once they had been running for quite some time, they finally broke through the tree line. Y/N was already facing the way they had come, and she reloaded the large gun quickly— Billy assumed she had done this before— and motioned her head for him to get into the shack-house behind her.

“Get in the house. You’re going to need to knock on the door twice, once and three times. It’s the password that’s going to get you in and safe. I’m right behind you.” Y/N yelled at him, shooting the remaining monsters that had been brave enough to continue chasing them.

“You saved my life, and I’m not leaving you.” He growled, grabbing her bicep and pulling her towards the house. Instead of protesting (“don't be a dumbass, Billy.”), she decided that it would be in everyone's best interest to listen to him. They sprinted up onto the porch and locked on the door six times, waiting patiently for someone to come to the door. “Why isn’t anyone answering?” He whispered, shooting an anxious look over his shoulder.

“I don’t know— Hello? Dustin? Steve? Eleven?” She yelled, banging on the door with her palm.

“Eleven? Like the number?” He asked, dropping all tension from his shoulders in raw confusion. Y/N simply shrugged in response and knocked the secret knock once more.

“Come on guys!” She yelled once more, praying to whatever God was out there that the door in front of them would unlock and open for them.

As if he was listening to her thoughts the locks clicked and the door swung open. When there was nobody on the other side, Billy let out a nervous squeak (‘theres nobody behind the door!” “It’s fine, Hargrove- you’ll get used to it.”). Y/N rushed the pair of them in the house and the door shut behind her, the locks already clicking and the chair shoved under the doorknob by the time she had managed to put her gun on the floor and take her jacket off. She motioned for Billy to follow her deeper into the house, ignoring his hesitation. She knew the last time he had been here, it had not been pleasant for anyone involved. Y/N followed the voices through the house to one of the rooms near the back. She turned the corner, and almost immediately was assaulted by a horde of tiny people.

“Y/N! Shithead, why did you take so long?” Dustin yelled, punching her in the arm once he pulled away from her embrace. She pulled him in closer and kissed his head, holding him to her chest and hugging him tightly.

“I love you so much, Dusty.”

“I love you too, can you get off of me now?”

“Nope.”

“Y/N. Please.”

“Nope.”

“Y/N. Please.”

“Sure.”

“Really?”

“Nope.”

It had been an hour since Billy and Y/N showed up to the Byers home, and after much screaming, and much explaining, the kids had finally fallen asleep in Will’s room, Steve had taken Jonathan’s old bed (Nancy and Jonathan had long since left for New York with no intention of returning), Joyce had retreated to the kitchen and was chain-smoking, and Jim was out doing whatever Jim did best. This left Billy and Y/N to there own devices, and they found themselves sitting on the front porch sitting side by side and staring out across the driveway in silence.

“Steve took my showing up pretty well, huh?” Billy whispered voice raw from yelling and defending himself. He lifted a cigarette to his cut lips and cracked his bloody and bruised knuckles. Steve had immediately dove for Billy, and after several minutes of fighting and swearing, Jim and Eleven had managed to tear the two Alpha males from each other. After they had been patched up (Billy needed more medical care than Steve did for once), they had sat down, drank a beer and shook hands.

Y/N took the cigarette from between his fingers and took a long drag. “Don’t tell Dustin I did that, he would kill me.” She coughed.

“Yeah,” she continued. “Boys are really fucking weird. You throw hands and suddenly you’re friends? Can you explain that to me?”

Billy chuckled and leaned forward on his knees. “I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but the beer was a peace offering. Girls are the weird ones. Why do you call each other names behind there backs and then act all sweet and shit to each other's faces? With men—“ He was cut off by a loud laugh from Y/N. “With men— shut up, Y/N— with us, we have everything on the table. Everyone knows how everyone feels.”

“Yeah, and once they all know how everyone feels you guys whip out your dicks and measure them side by side.” Y/N laughed. She looked over to Billy who was already looking back at her smiling. She hummed, and rested her cheek on her hand, not breaking eye contact with the mullet-clad boy.

“You changed my life within twenty-four hours, you know. You showed me that I’m part of something far bigger than myself.” He said, stubbing out the cigarette on the toe of his boot and lighting another one.

“Don’t be so cheesy, Hargrove.” She said, leaning into him and nudging her shoulder hard against his.

“How could a dame like you know how to shoot a gun and life knowing that there are demons on this planet.”

“Well, my senior year was a mess— with all the happenings with the Upside Down and all. Jim taught me how to shoot, I protected Dustin and Nancy and Steve and Jonathan. Then I left home and never looked back. Now I’m here, right back where I started.”

“I mean, I can totally tell my friends that a college girl from Canada saved my life when I was drunk in the woods.” He laughed, letting you take the fag from his fingers and claiming it for your own.

“Now that’s a story, Hargrove. And for the record, I’m a university student.” Y/N’s eyes drifted back over to the driveway, and Billy watched as her eyes traced over every constellation in the sky. Billy never thought he would be attracted to someone who was such a brick-house-gunslinger-Canadian, but here he was nevertheless— fighting monsters and smoking with pretty girls.

[ankhisms]

ok now im ready to try and word my thoughts although im sure theyll still be a bit jumbled and as you all know im always prone to rambling especially about things im passionate about so if you read ahead be warned of that hopefully itll at least make some sense even without the context of having read the book or not

first as a disclaimer i am not at all trying to like say that there arent any insightful or good things that stanislavski has to say in his teachings, nor do i want to outright dismiss his teachings or the clear impact hes had on a lot of theater and acting and reading his writing its clear that he was passionate about what he did and i very much can respect that and his impact. there were parts in the handbook that i felt resonated with me, parts where i went oh yeah thats already part of how i act or how i feel about theater and parts where i was like oh i need to internalize this especially when talking about needing to be confident. so i am glad that i read this book and did feel that i got something out of it.

however that being said i really disagree with so many things that stanislavski says and there was a very familiar running thread of elitism in regaurds to acting and theater that i could pick up on in his writing and i wonder how much of the current problems with elitism in acting and theater spaces can be traced back to his mindset and others like him. i also found that while he was not glaringly ableist or anything shockingly bad the way he talks about how actors need to keep their bodies fit and train their bodies and be aware of their physical appearance very much still felt like ableism and the upholding of bigoted beauty standards.

now obviously this man lived from the 1800s and died in the 1930s so i hope everyone reading this knows im not trying to like criticize this guy specifically for his wording not being how we might say things in 2022 but at the same time as a disabled actor who has dealt with bullshit from people in theater for a while now it still just reminded me of how prevelant ableism and unhealthy unreasonable and bigoted beauty standards are in these spheres and it just was like come on man ur really gonna talk about actors being ugly or whatever

beyond that i also just largely disagree with the mindset stanivslavski held when it comes to theater and even during this book i felt like there were times where he contridicted himself or were what he was saying was as i mentioned before just really elitist and weird, saying stuff like only true artists and true actors will do it the way i am outlining things. ive mentioned many times that i have complex thoughts on what ""good"" vs ""bad"" acting is and i wont get into that very much here beyond the fact that i think its nuanced and not very simple but i do also have actors who are well known in like hollywood and shit who i think are not at all very good performers who do not seem to put a lot of effort or thought into their performances and who have gotten to be where they are due to being privledged.

that being said going back to stanivslavski i generally resent the idea that there is only ~one true way to be an artist in the theater and only one true way to be an actor~ because like. i shouldnt have to explain why thats bullshit right because like. obviously thats bullshit.

theres no one right way to be an artist of any kind, art is subjective and that includes theater and to say this is the only kind of technique to use is to limit the art of it.

also circling back a little bit to the ableism i disagree with how much he tries to emphasize that actors should just constantly be ~on the grind~ as u might say now or just dedicating every waking moment of every day to training your body and only ever thinking of ur art and always doing some physical work out like okay so when it comes to disabled actors like myself do u think i am not a trained enough actor stanivslaski since i have to take care of myself and cant be constantly doing dance or fencing or training non stop every day? obviously im not opposed to doing training for your art i think thats clear i already practice a lot by reading scripts out loud and thinking about my facial expressions etc etc but i suppose this comes with the whole method acting idea where its emphasized that you always have to be in character and thinking about your character and its like man thats not healthy.

i really dislike method acting anyone ive worked with whos been into it has just been such a pain to work with and their performances have never been as elevated as they and stanivslaski seem to claim that they will be by adhering to the method. i did agree with stanivslaski talking about trying to put yourself in the shoes of the character and thinking about the larger picture and finding the kernel of what the story is really trying to say and trying to make people feel and think about, those are things i already always think about and i also agree with his emphasis on ensembles being important and needing to work together to be forming a larger feeling for the production.

however another thing i really disliked was how multiple times there were sections where he was just talking about how set designers and people making sets and the crew arent as important as the actors?? which is just bizarre and seemed to me like he had some kind of weird personal grudge because like. yeah you can do really cool performances with a very minimal set design, you do not at all need a huge fancy elaborate set or expensive set pieces in order to still have a great production and to tell the story you want to tell. the theater i grew up acting in always had very minimal set design and i felt that encouraged our creativity as actors

but really this just reminds me of how badly people in theater and acting ESPECIALLY stuck up actors will treat the crew of the production, its untrue to say that the actors are the most important people like are you kidding me. without the crew there would be no production.

also was very weird to me how he talked about how actors need to focus very hard on every single thing they do like have an immense amount of focus while acting but then later on he talks about just giving yourself up entirely to the role and not thinking about it and he said something along the lines of if youre not actually FEELING the emotions that your character is feeling and not actually DEEPLY FEELING the emotions you are trying to convey you are not acting youre just pretending and i just. bro what. you just said that actors need to focus and think about everything and now youre saying that if you dont become your character entirely and feel everything your character is going through literally the same way as them then youre not acting like. what.

theres been plenty of times where ive gotten really into a scene and of course i draw upon my own emotions for acting and theres times where it can get really intense but its still like. im still focused and aware of whats going on and what needs to happen in the show? there were other weird things like that where it felt like he was contridicting himself or where i just kind of was like what in the god damn are you talking about

anyway i think thats about all i can get my brain to focus enough to let me word, again im not at all like saying "boooo he sucks all his thoughts and teachings are trash" or anything its just that i think me and this russian man who lived in the late 1800s and early 1900s have very different approaches to acting and theater which like yeah of course we do gmgmg but at the same time it was interesting to read and gave me stuff to think about and i felt that it was worthwhile to read, it did feel weird to notice the elitism/ableism/upholding of beauty standards but at the same time its like yeah go figure this shit has been around for fucking ages unfortunately and is still insanely prevelant today.

also dont forget the passage where he talks about shooting beams between you and your scene partner from your eyes and fingers

thank u if u actually read all this mwah

finished reading stanislavskis actors handbook....... i have many thoughts but i can not gather them all right now and will return to share them all with you but heres some images describing my feelings

[hannahindie]

Maple Leaves and Flannel

Characters: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester (mentioned) Word Count: 2,608 Warnings: Cutesy fluff and extreme descriptions of fall. (I don’t think that’s really a warning, but I’m a wordy girl so...maybe?) A/N: I wrote this for @impalaimagining’s Favorite Seasons Gif Challenge! Fall is my favorite time of year, so I was excited to get to write a fic that primarily focused on that.

Beta’d by my wonderful @trexrambling, because without her, a lot of my thoughts would be jumbled: “THIS. HANNAH, THIS!!!!!! YESSSSSSS I LOVE THIS LINE IT IS MY NEW FAVORITE LINE. Gaaaaaaaaaah this is wonderful.”

And my sweet @pinknerdpanda, who encourages me even when I hate nearly everything I wrote and feel like starting over: “ I love this whole sentence sooooo much!”

As usual, tags are at the bottom. Please let me know if you’d like to be added!!

Fall has always been my favorite time of year. Summer had its moments, but when the stifling heat finally started melting into cool breezes, when I could enjoy the sun’s warmth on my face without immediate fear of being burnt to a crisp, I was in my happy place. If anyone were to ask me why fall was my favorite, besides the cooler temperatures and the lack of sun poisoning, it would be hard to pinpoint an exact thing.

It could be the brilliant colors the leaves inevitably changed to, a magnificent splash of reds and oranges and yellows all mixing together to make it look like the landscape was on fire. The slow appearance of Halloween decorations that would go up bit by bit; a zombie here, purple and green lights there, fake spiderweb stretching across every available surface. The extraordinary amount of pumpkins that would just appear with no warning on porch steps, balanced precariously on hay bales that also would magically appear, a majority of which had simple faces that had been painstakingly carved into them by excited children who cared less about the carving and more about cleaning out the slimy guts inside.

So, had you asked me what my favorite thing about fall was, I would have told you it was too hard to choose and wandered off with my pumpkin spice latte to find some crunchy leaves to jump in.

Well, that’s what I would have said. But then I saw him.

Right in the middle of town is a large maple tree. Large is really an understatement. This maple tree is one of the oldest I’ve ever seen, and it’s huge. It’s right on the edge of the sidewalk, and the roots have pushed up the concrete slabs like they’re made out of foam. Every year, I expect one of the massive branches to break off and land on top of the old, Victorian-style house that sits empty next to it, but every year it proves me wrong. It also sits directly on the path I take from my apartment to the library, and every time I walk past, regardless of what I might be doing at the time, I glance up at the huge spanning limbs and falling leaves. Most days, there’s nothing remarkable about it. It’s beautiful, yes, and it’s one of my favorite things about my town...but generally speaking, it’s the same scene every single day.

Except one day when there was an addition to the normal scenery.

I had just crossed the street and was making my way down the sidewalk when I glanced up out of habit and stopped dead in my tracks. Standing just under the maple was a tall man, his head bent as he looked down at his phone. His shaggy, chestnut hair hung down and obscured most of his face, and I held my breath as I waited for him to look up. He was wearing a burnt orange coat and a lighter orange flannel; he was like the perfect autumn day in a ruggedly handsome, broad shouldered package. He must have realized someone was staring at him because he looked up and locked eyes with me, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice deep and smooth.

I finally released the breath I’d been holding, my eyes wide. “H-hello.”

He took a couple of steps towards me and pocketed his phone as he did, “Sorry to bother you, but do you live around here?” I nodded but remained quiet. “Do you know much about this house?”

“Oh, yea, it’s one of my favorite places in town. Are you...are you interested in buying it?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded, “Yea, actually. Me and my brother grew up in a house like this, and I just happened to be driving through when I saw it.”

“So do you live close by?” Surely I would have remembered seeing him around.

He shook his head, “No, I'm here on business. I've been kind of looking for a place to start over, and since I was already here, I thought I'd look around.” He held his hand out, “My name is Sam, by the way. Sam Winchester.” I took his hand, and I was unsurprised when his totally engulfed mine.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Same.” He smiled again, and just as he opened his mouth to say something else, a muffled ring interrupted him. He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After a quick glance, he looked at me apologetically, “I'm sorry, that's my brother. I gotta go meet him...family business stuff to work on. Maybe I'll see you around?”

I smiled at him, “Yea, that would be nice. See you later.”

He gave a small wave and started walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction that I was going. Luckily, that wasn't the last time I saw Sam Winchester.

The second time I saw Sam Winchester I was at the library, coffee in hand as I flipped through pages upon pages of town history. I had just started at the local newspaper, and my first assignment was to put together a large series leading up to the town’s centennial celebration. Most people would have wondered what they had done to deserve such a fate, but I loved stuff like that. There was something about getting lost in old newspapers and books, scattered photographs that lay forgotten in people's attics, only remembered when you ask them if they have anything that would help you. I could sit all day at the library, curled up in one of the overstuffed chairs with a giant book. Most of my days consisted of that, actually.

I had been reading about The Great Flood of 1928 when I heard someone clear their throat. I looked up to see Sam looking at me, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Sam,” I said as I shifted into a more upright position. “How are you?”

He shrugged, “Pretty good. I think we’ll be here for a few more days.” He nodded towards my stack of books, “What are you researching?”

I glanced down at the book in my hand, “Currently, a catastrophic flood that destroyed most of the town in 1928. In general, just getting some information for a series I'm writing for the paper. The centennial is coming up. Although I have to say, there's less interesting and happy things than there are devastating natural disasters, murder, and general bad luck.” I closed my book and sat it on the table. “Why are you here?”

“Well, I needed to do some research of my own. The librarian told me you might have a book I need. It's actually a collection of property deeds and stuff.”

I raised an eyebrow, “That sounds…”

“Boring,” Sam laughed. “It is. Which is why I'm here and not my brother.” He sat the books he'd already claimed down, “Mind if I join you?”

I shook my head as I handed him the book he was looking for, “Not at all. I can't promise that I'll be exciting company, though,”

He laughed, “At least we can be boring together.”

And so we sat, the next three hours consumed with what was supposed to be serious research but had quickly turned into us laughing about some of the more ridiculous things that had happened in town.

Sam sat back with a laugh, and I couldn't help but stare at the deep dimples that formed when he allowed himself to truly smile. “Wow, it's been awhile since I laughed that much. That was nice.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and his smile quickly disappeared, “But it looks like it's time for me to head out.” He stood and shouldered his coat on, “Hopefully I'll get to see you before we leave.”

I smiled, “I would enjoy that. See you around.” Sam smiled and strode quickly out of the library. I looked down to find that he'd left the book he'd asked for open, and I pulled it around to look at the page he'd marked.

The deed was for the old abandoned house with the giant maple in the yard.

The last time I saw Sam Winchester is a little blurry. It's kind of a long story, and honestly I'm not even sure that I have all the details. I remember seeing the deed for the old house. Curiosity got the better of me and I did the one thing that I'm surprised I hadn't done before but realize now should never have; I googled the address of the Victorian house with the town’s oldest maple tree.

I vaguely recall reading what had to have been one of the more disturbing stories of our town that I had soundly decided not to include in our centennial write up. But even after I sat down to read something else, determined to not focus on the vicious quadruple murder/suicide that had occurred in the house, my mind kept returning to it.

Which had led me to my next question; why was Sam so interested in that house? And what family business was he doing that he needed the deed information? Nothing was adding up, and I was beginning to wonder what that handsome stranger was up to.

I remember leaving the library, bag in tow and determined to figure out what was going on. I had stopped at the end of the sidewalk before taking a big breath and striding up the cracked concrete like I owned the place.

And that's when things get a little fuzzy. All I can really remember is that I saw something that shouldn't have been real. That moment of pause, the shock of seeing a man that was long dead standing directly in front of me, nearly cost me my life. What I do remember is Sam appearing out of nowhere, quickly followed by a shorter man with bright eyes that I guessed was his brother, and a loud shotgun blast.

Then I was outside, my back against the maple tree and a large, rough hand cradled against my face.

“Y/N...hey, are you alright?” Any other time, opening my eyes to that handsome face would have been welcome. As it was, I could barely remember where I was, much less who was in front of me.

“I...yea...I think so...what happened?”

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, “It’s a long story.”

I shifted my weight and groaned as my bruised ribs protested at the movement, “What exactly do you and your brother do, anyway?”

He chuckled, “That's also a long story.” He helped me stand up, and I grimaced again. “Are you sure you're okay?”

I nodded, “Aside from the fact that I just saw something impossible, and said impossible thing tried to kill me...I'm pretty sure I'm good. Ask me tomorrow.” He smiled sadly and my chest ached, “You won't be here, will you?”

He shook his head, “No, we uh...we have some other things to take care of.” I stared at him for a moment and tried to memorize the way his hair fell in his face, the little mole on his chin, how his eyes seemed to change color. There were too many details, and I knew it would be impossible to do him justice in my spotty memory. So instead, I put my arms around his waist and pressed my ear to his chest and listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart.

“It was nice to meet you, Sam Winchester.”

Sam didn't say anything, but he wrapped his arms around me and held me a little tighter.

It's been a year since I last saw Sam Winchester. A year since I saw him standing under that maple tree, its bright red and orange leaves falling around him as he looked at his phone, unaware of the dumbstruck girl staring at him.

It's been a year since I let curiosity win out over common sense and I discovered that there was far more to this world than I could have ever imagined, and that the gentle giant that I had laughed with over coffee was responsible for keeping it all in check.

Sam and Dean had driven me home and the ride there was mostly silent. Sam sat in the back with me, his long legs tucked in as well as he could, and I had curled tightly into his side. My ribs complained the entire ride, but I ignored them; I wasn't passing up what could be my last chance to be this close to Sam.

Sam walked me to my door and pulled me into one last hug, and it took everything I had not to beg him to at least stay the night. He'd started to walk away, but at the last minute, turned back and pulled me into him, his soft lips working against mine almost desperately before he pulled back, gave me a tight lipped smile, and walked to the car. The next morning I went to stick my hand in my jacket pocket and found a piece of a napkin containing small, cramped handwriting. There was a number, and under that a single word - 'Sam'.

We had texted quite a bit for awhile; what he and Dean were up to, plans to get coffee when they finally made it back into town to visit, the most recent book we'd read. I knew that with their lifestyle, it would probably be awhile before I got to see Sam again, but I held on to hope. Then, finally, the messages stopped.

I'd like to think that he's okay, that he's saving people from the monsters that linger in the shadows, but I often worry that something happened. I think I'd feel it, though. For that much good to leave the world, I'm sure my heart would know.

I've kept the same routine this whole year. I walk the same path, go to the same job, live in the same apartment. And every day, I walk past the old Victorian, the maple looming over it with its canopy of fiery leaves. I’d always looked towards the house, only now I do so in hopes that I'll see a man, dressed like fall, and smiling. When I don't see him there, I like to imagine that he's off saving the world with his brother, one monster at a time.

That is, until today.

Because today, I walked the same path down the same road, crossed at the same corner, and just like I did exactly one year ago, I looked up at the house and the maple. Under its falling leaves, standing just where he was the first time I saw him, was Sam. Only this time, he wasn't looking down at his phone; this time he was looking straight at me. He was a bit thinner than he was back then, and he'd cut his hair a little different, but the smile was the same. I stopped a few feet away, afraid that if I blinked he'd disappear.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said softly, “things got a little...crazy.”

I nodded, “Long story?”

Sam chuckled, “Yea, you could say that.”

I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist, my ear to his chest, and sighed happily. I never realized how relieved I would feel to hear someone’s heartbeat. “You know what, I have all day.”

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[pokefanbri]

"Home is where the heart is" I dont have to tell you where that lies. But its only part of the pain. I know in my heart I'm a good person, but my life has been in shambles since I was young. Theres many like me, that dont deserve the life they were given & yet somehow persevere through it just to survive & try to be happy through the pain.

How I ask do I deserve not to be happy. I feel there was no justice for me, I was dishonorably discharged lol. I was truly happy where I was, but even if i were to travel place to place...that is also in my blood, not just the place I resided.

I was at home, I was at peace, I truly loved everyone there & every second. But do I dare go there again, absolutely in a heartbeat. But this is what kills me, Part of me says "this is your life now, accept it, push through even if u can't" the other part of me says that ill be white knighted with a bust through the door like the kool-aid man & he says "sike, yea i fucked it up & didn't realize I had something special, will u forgive me" 😅

But i know that could just be my imagination & im overthinking again. But where actually is my life headed? I have a good heart, i care so much about those thats affected me even in a bad way...but maybe that's God's love showing right through me, because I forgive easy & help those that need it. My brother says that a "helper" is equivalent to a partner in crime & all aspects, a soul mate. He throws the word around with this subject, but he's also trying to find his forever helper which he believes is the mother of his 1st born children. Thats great, given the right circumstances & if her situation was better, yea they could probably try.

For me, caring & trust is my biggest downfall. Because i do so much for others b4 myself, I end up taken advantage of or at least feeling like it. Even if its not the case, the wrong thats been done to me all my life..made me this way. I cant help that. And to find someone that I trusted fully, only to find out that I couldn't. That breaks a person like me down & actually hurts to the core. I didnt deserve that, but it was the disservice that was thrust upon me without a 2nd thought. I wasn't given the proper chance to love someone because they refused to love me back & yea most of the time it was about them...but thats a leo for ya 😅

When someone shares it mutually, everyone wins, you're complete, u have that "helper" you've been longing for all your life. The good times that were shared, the humorous banter, doing something for the other just cuz u can & cuz u want to, showing eachother off to friends & family like "yea thats my babe right there" as if to say they were happy u were there,the best friend & sidekick that everyone needs...it was all gone in a blink of an eye. Leading on my heartstrings, making me fall harder & harder, the friendship to the end even, all for nothing. But because of all the positives, thats what gets me, it's why my pain is so confusing. Why was it all like that if not on purpose whether for a positive reason I have yet to understand, to make it easier for them not to deal without regard for the others feelings, or cause God making me suffer more through it to make me stronger...when I thought I was done with low struggles already.

Idk man, I just dont understand. But because of what my life has been like over the past half of the year, all the positives makes me want more...because I never got all of him in the 1st place. I always wanted more because he held himself back & on purpose. So maybe it did seem like attachment, but only cuz I longed for the same feeling in return & didnt give up trying to find it..literally any sign of it. I was trying to figure his sweet ass out & learn what kind of person he really was lol, so I could accommodate to him more especially in the last weeks I was sweating my ass off 😆 I was dedicated so much I was willing to change what wasn't liked on the outside. Like I wanted to do so much to keep the best thing i had, cause deep down I knew his old feelings fizzled out quick & I just didnt understand & I still dont. I mean I guess I understand if he wasn't ready for a commitment? And that's fine, but he committed b4 & when I was brought there. What is it that was so wrong about me, that negative thoughts festered so much about someone it makes u think someone else is the problem, when its not the case at all.

Theres nothing i can think of, nothing else i could've done to show my worth, that I wasn't a waste of time. Maybe I pushed too hard? But in those last few weeks I gave space & focused on myself & my tasks at hand with so much more effort to have some kind of a chance, to save what was precious to me..save someone else that couldn't rise up on their own. & i blew it somehow. I was told i settled, but that was the point from the beginning that we both agreed upon. I think it was just that the other was getting comfortable with someone around & it scared em..to where they couldn't do all they wanted in life along with dealing with someone else at the same time. Or possibly felt 1 or the other wasnt good enough for the other & felt inadequate or unequiped. And searching for someone else to fill a void they already had at home, thats another thing that befuddles me. The last time I saw him, it didn't look or sound like he cared, avoided eye contact til he drove off & my heart sank even more as I knew it might be the last time I ever saw him. I was too pissed & in the heat of the moment flipped him off til he was out of sight, but after...i wanted to die right then & there but my best friend was there & we were on a deadline just as he was. If I were alone & my friend wasn't there, I'd be sobbing in that parking lot for hours til someone found me.

They, he, had it all but lost it due to their own negligence, in my opinion.

I mean come on whats not to like about me that didn't go hand in hand with what they were searching for.

The perfect heritage to match his (Templin Germany the 7th largest region) with some jew blood, same interests & hobbys, outlook on life, the lucky number, a good & gentle soul with a love for God. Passion for travel, soft spot for bald eagles, the dream of becoming a parent 1 day, intellectually & gamer gifted, both loves BLT sandwiches...because i da snack too 😏, both have the same middle name but spelled differently & 30yr olds with same hs class year, I have 3 hansome brothers & he has 3 beautiful sisters. I mean Dafuq? Lol. We're total opposites & literally residing NE to SW of the country, 1 grew up well the other not so much...yet we still were able to find eachother....somehow? Bro how about u try the other half of the yr here, 6 month equivalent & finish 2020 the right way huh lol BET 😂 oh man. A girl can dream though can't she?

I have a college writing level & training in business, musical theater, massage therapy (which was the fav), veterinary tech college training in hs, 7 years of choir under my belt since 5th grade including after hs in multiple churches & my choir teachers wedding. I Iove animals, likes to paint, great with technology, listen to music & sing along to every word almost exact, family oriented, a gaming & content creating wizard, passion for helping people, can organize & clean the shit out of anything, can be the boss when i feel the need as well as the spunk & charisma to push forward at any given task. I can multitask & can get shit done if I set my mind to it, if there's something or someone I need to feel purpose to be my best self, yea & if I'm accepted, that's purpose enough right there to get my ass moving.

Yea, jumbling alot of shit in my early life made me crack under the pressure but only cuz i really went over the top & burnt out. But ive relaxed alot since then & am treated for my ailments, ive learned to do things to pace myself now to prevent a psychosis from ever happen again.

Ive said this b4, there was 1 other that also broke up with me...1st time it ever happened the other way around mind u, was also a Leo.. shocker lol. After only 3 months & of me saying the L word too quick...it was what finally broke me, what added ontop of everything else. I was living in my own apt since hs & after school a yr later at 19..he lived in the same apt complex & worked where i did. We hit it off really well & loved talking to eachother at work, almost the same humorous & smart personality with a passion for gaming, dead ass great driver, skinny & ample where it counted, & yea also a weed enthusiast 😅 all of it pretty much the same as the recent one in my life. Honestly thinking about it now they probably would've been great friends lol. Thomas was his name, but I was in a relationship at the time of meeting him as well. But I didn't pursue anything til that relationship blew up in my face just cuz my current bf's grandfather was my boss & saw how well Thomas & i got along as friends, associated it with cheating, & that was that. Tom could be mine after all lol, chips fell into place on their own after he professed his feelings to me on his MySpace blog so damn smoothly lol 😂 Saying there was a girl he liked, i commented on it, he asked me out, that was trap lol, but it worked lol. The chemistry was 🔥

But yea, we had alot fun together & he was completely chill with me. But after it ended it set something off in me. Ended up in a psych ward for 2-3 weeks, little did I know he was worried sick & had no idea where i was or how to visit. I wasnt allowed to have my phone but the persons number I knew by heart, was the previous guy b4 tom, the chubby aloof dumbass that was my 1st love lol. Tom hated him with a passion cuz this dude wasn't a man that treated me fairly, pushed onto me by his family for me to take care of, shelter & feed him mooching off of me & taking advantage of a comfortable place to live at 1 point. When i was in the hospital, my 1st was the 1 to pick me up. When I got back from the hospital I learned of how tom was worried & he gave me a big hug. But by that point I was back with the 1st...somehow that happened & I actually don't remember what brought it on cuz my memory throughtout those weeks was dowsed in medication...but Thomas was the one heartbroken instead of me this time cuz he actually did want me back, the fact I took this other guy back over him, a person he despised...was terrible to him & he severed all ties, moved away. He broke up with me, technically it was okay as so i thought to see someone else regardless if it was an ex or not. i didn't know I had another chance at all.

But anyway, the difference between the 2 leo Ts, 1 let me in completely, cared about me as much as i did for him in same way & the L word too soon is what did it in for him after 3 months 🤷‍♀️ The other T well..unfortunately 1 sided for the most part despite how well we clicked, i was faithful & the other tried not to be after 3 months & hid things due to his own insecurities, pulling me along for another 3months when I didn't have to do jack for him at all after that point, but I did. I might've said the L word too soon with him as well idk. But because I'm a different person than I was then, there's no psychotic break...its just the depressed feeling of defeat with the mix of the longing i still have for him.

Wtf is it with T names & the number 3!? ffs! 😫 Briana Leigh Templin BLT, Bri Loves...whoever Tfuk 🤣

I cant write anymore today, I gotta leave tomorrow. My brother wants me to work for him instead & make more money, in a team that would be like in an office space, basically an assistant but making calls & checking in with clients within his real estate, solar, etc businesses.

But idk, I just got my foot in the door with something else. If I let go of that, for something that could or could not be bad for me, then what do I do? Neither of them sound any less stressful, bryans idea however earns more money & would have me dealing with stuff I like to do in regards to skills maybe? Idk man, idk. It'd a tough call.

My point in writing this, nothing accept to show how much I thought he was perfect for me, just as he originally thought about me. These are all thoughts going through my mind, get them out of my head. To talk openly the way I am, its therapeutic. But I miss him so damn much, not sure when this feeling will go away. I still love him & even dare I say trust him,even through his lying ass faults & idk why, i shouldn't but i do...thats the powerful effect he had on me. Still waiting on the last promise to be friends, im giving space, venting here instead of to him cuz i wouldn't want to be that much of an annoyance. I was going to include more but it'd be dark & negative,& im not about outing the worst in people especially if he was a good guy for the most part...no that wouldn't be right, probably deserves it to be honest..but no. I still wanna do right by him. That's all for now

[viralhottopics]

After the flood: ‘No tourists please. Help welcome’

On a journey through northern New South Wales and southern Queensland, Warren Murray meets locals contending with the aftermath of Cyclone Debbie

Light to moderate traffic is easing along the Pacific motorway connecting the Gold Coast and the Tweed, with no particular sign of storm damage or delays. But in Chinderah, just inside New South Wales and just off the highway, John Anderson is in full-tilt disaster recovery mode, contending with the aftermath of the flooding rains that ex-cyclone Debbie sent south.

At the Gateway Lifestyle Tweed Shores over-50s community, in between dealing with a stream of tradies coming in and out the office door Righto mate, do what youve gotta do, well pay for it Anderson describes how last week the water went through probably 140 cabin-style homes in this complex that he manages.

On Thursday the tide met the downstream flooding and we were inundated with a metre, metre and a half of water not a flood, but slowly rising water.

By Friday afternoon evacuation was well under way for those residents happy to go.

Gas bottles ripped off their moorings, leaking gas, electricity in residences filled with salt water, Anderson recalls. By 10 oclock Saturday night the park was basically isolated and only accessible by rubber ducky. He and his wife, Beth, opted to stay and keep an eye on things, sleeping on foam mattresses on the upper level of their manufactured home, with water swilling around on the floor below, until they could get out and about to assess the damage.

Days later, theres still so much to be done before things even faintly resemble normality. A jotting on the desk blotter says Copper gas line missing gone. Andersons mobile rings and flashes up the caller details: Shade Sail Andrew.

Out front of the park is a pile of ruined possessions that stretches for maybe 100 metres down the road. It represents in a lot of cases everything that people own, or did own. The villas are about 85% privately owned, 15% rented. Some people are insured, a lot are not because of the cost, being flood-prone.

Anderson lauds a magnificent response from the community, individuals who are pitching in to help out. The ladies from nearby Cudgen public school have been turning up with hot food, and in the top bit of the Gateway park where the water couldnt reach we had ladies there cooking sausage rolls and bringing them round. Just the most magnificent response.

Cleaning up after the flooding in Tumbulgum on the Tweed river, northern New South Wales. Photograph: Warren Murray for the Guardian

Double whammy

A short drive away in Tumbulgum its clear from the comprehensive inventory of household goods in jumbled heaps at the end of every driveway that some people lost more or less everything. A woman throws her hands up in resignation as a man adds more ruined belongings to one such growing pile. Everywhere is silt and sludge. At the entry to Riverside Drive a chalked sign says Please stop to help residents. Nearby a woman, looking newly arrived on the scene, unloads from her car a little yellow water blaster. It seems hopelessly dinky for the mammoth job at hand, but every bit helps and you know she will not go unthanked.

Compounding the heartbreak for Tumbulgum is the death on its doorstep of Stephanie King, 43, her son Jacob, 7, and daugher Ella Jane, 11, after their car plunged off Dulguigan Road and into the swollen Tweed on Monday afternoon. Daughter Chloe May, 8, managed to escape from the sinking car. I arrive on the other side of the river at 11.45am on Tuesday and line up with the rest of the media in a sludgy riverside park. We are being kept at bay as police divers continue their work after having to stop overnight. Even at this distance the water can be seen roiling with bubbles from their difficult work in the murk.

Pixie Bennett clutches a Jack Daniels in a can as she stands near me watching the recovery effort. Like everyone else she was stranded by the waters and stripped of everything that she couldnt get upstairs.

Sorry were drinking in the middle of the day but were still in shock its a double whammy for the little town of Tumbulgum, she says, nodding towards the emergency services at work on the opposite bank. She moved her car on to a high bridge before the water came but lost boxes of possessions when the water rose two steps from the top of our 13 steps. A plastic box floated past and she grabbed it, to find a Barbie dolls clothes packed inside. Our neighbour rowed over in a canoe and rowed us back next door so we could have dinner with them.

Further back from the river in Bawden Street, earthmoving contractor Ben May is opening the jaws of his Bobcat loader, plunging it into those roadside piles, clamping down on whatever he can pick up a fridge, a hot water system and then mechanically hoiking it into his tip-truck. Hes guided by concreter Geoff Percy, a 16-year Tumbulgum resident.

John Anderson, manager of the Gateway residential complex, with ruined belongings piled along the roadside waiting for collection. Photograph: Warren Murray for the Guardian

Good over-the-road mates, they have both been badly hit I lost my ute, lots of white goods, it was about seven feet deep through here on Friday but have turned away from their own troubles to help others. Nah, well be right, says Percy. The tip-truck went under but once the water receded Ben just changed all the oils and got it going. Well do this load and then head further up the street.

The words and phrases that come out at these times like resilience and community spirit can sound like cliches until you walk into the sort of situation that gives rise to them.

Two ancient pinball machines sit outside a neighbours place waiting for disposal. In their heyday, Duotron and Firepower cost you 20 cents a go. The owner bustles back and forth clearing up, not wanting to be photographed. Hes had enough, says Percy. Here for 18 years. Hes leaving. Had enough of the floods.

Three quarters of an hour after I arrived, the grim task down by the riverside is more or less done. The bodies have been removed and a crane waits to fish out the still-sunken family car. For a while this site has been the focus of the east coast flood story. Now the cameras will swing north to Rockhampton, where the Fitzroy river is approaching its flood peak.

Everyone in Tumbulgum has been at it for days cleaning up. But it looks like they have only just started. It smells like a muddy cattleyard from my country boyhood. Leaving town theres a hedgerow of household debris tangled in trees along the riverbank.

On the road towards Murwillumbah, through Condong, the same scene repeats itself over and over. Flood-ravaged sugarcane paddocks, pile after roadside pile of everything from barbecues to microwaves to baby strollers to chests of drawers and other buggered stuff. It is like an endless waterlogged forlorn jumble sale. Where will the council ever bury it all?

The makeshift sign in bedraggled Condong is a bit more firm than the one in Tumbulgum. No tourists please. Help welcome. Understandable in the circumstances.

Geoff Percy at work cleaning up in Tumbulgum, with his mate Ben May working the loader. Photograph: Warren Murray for the Guardian

Above the floodline

A floodline can be a thin topographical boundary between chaos and business as usual. This is brought home when I pull into Murwillumbah. Nearest the river there are familiar scenes of mopping up. Competition for parking spaces pushes me further up the main street than I would have otherwise gone, until I find a spot in front of the old-fashioned Austral Cafe (Established 1919).

Inside, not so far above that fateful floodline, I get to enjoy a midday breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast varnished with butter, all in perfectly dry surroundings. The walls are fittingly decorated with historical pictures of the districts past floods and fires, putting the current events in context.

Theres friendly chatter and laughter amid the tinkle of cutlery on crockery in the Austral. But snatches of the days inevitable conversations reach me as well. They found some of his gear on South Stradbroke Island It went floating past the boat ramp He slept through it, which is probably for the best Thats the hardest part. I mean were lucky, but

I think about the people in Tumbulgum making the most of their sausages on bread and whatever else neighbours have chucked together, volunteers have brought, or providence has left unspoiled. I hope they can dine somewhere like this when its all over.

The scenic route back from Murwillumbah to the Gold Coast is over the Queensland road that crosses the mountains via Tomewin to the Currumbin Valley. The road is damaged and open to local traffic only, but when a Falcon station wagon hoons impatiently past me and around the road closed sign, I decide to chance it. I have taken the route plenty of times on my motorbike, I know it well, Im in an all-wheel drive, it cant be too bad. And a trek back to the motorway through that landscape of muddied piles of ex-goods and former chattels doesnt appeal.

Its a mistake. The weather that caused all the devastation down below has left fallen trees, debris and landslips littering the road up here. Council crews are doing what they can to clear the way through, but like everywhere in these parts they are mere days into what looks like weeks or months of work.

At one blockage I wait behind a campervan for a bit, but then people start getting out of their cars, so I pull a U-turn. On the way down theres a Toyota 4WD lying on its roof at the bottom of an embankment. The Stop/Go man with one of the road gangs says things are better on the Numbinbah Valley Road, another of my favourite motorbike routes back to the Gold Coast. There are bad patches, he reckons, but you can get through.

And the road is indeed passable, but only just. It is still partly blocked or extremely damaged in sections. I find myself having to steer around tonnes of earth that a saturated hillside has disgorged into my path, or skirt patches where chunks of bitumen have been torn out by whooshing waters, or dodge areas where the road verges have collapsed away, leaving gashes that could swallow the car. On this familiar route it would be easy to lapse into an accustomed pace and come to grief. I remind myself to take it easy.

Theres a rural version of the recovery effort that is happening back in the Tweed Valley. Unsalvageable belongings being put out for collection, busted fences being put right. In one spot a little Suzuki ute is being used to pay out a coil of barbed wire along a boundary. Flooding has wrecked the road in areas where you wouldnt even have noticed a waterway before. Trees lie flattened in creek beds.

Not far short of Numinbah village theres been a huge cascade of boulders that looks like it should have swept the whole road away. Its down to one lane, marked by temporary guide posts. From the ridge above, the little waterfall that no doubt swelled to a roar and caused all this damage has shrunk back down to an innocuous trickle over the rocks.

Two pinball machines that finally met their match when the swollen Tweed river flooded into Tumbulgum. Photograph: Warren Murray for the Guardian

Things arent fantastic further west in the Scenic Rim country either. Beaudeserts state MP, Jon Krause, has been on ABC 612 radio reminding us that rural communities are likewise dealing with the effects of this natural disaster. Crops have been lost and ruined paddocks will take a lot of work to rehabilitate before they can be planted again.

Pretty soon Im back in suburban Nerang and not far from home. Theres the odd tree lying on the ground here and there, whipped down in the high winds of the previous days, roots having given up their grip on the soaked ground. Wed already had more than a week of downpours when the remnants of Debbie arrived and upped the tempo.

In the park across the road from my house a council crew is mucking out the kids sandpit. But thats about as devastated as it gets round here. The park is part of the local stormwater drainage system, and when the rain arrives the boogie boards come out.

Last year we put on a new roof on our late 70s, early 80s brick-veneer bungalow, and consequently had to follow the 21st-century regulations. That meant threading steel cyclone rods down through the walls, tying the roof to the concrete slab foundation.

Many of the houses around us in this brick-and-tile suburb are of a similar era, but still have their original roofs. Which means they dont have those rods. This time around the winds were less than cyclonic. If more of north Queenslands most extreme weather comes south in future years as feared, we may see those structures tested. To the north, the south and the west of us, there are thousands of people dealing with such consequences in the here and now.

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from After the flood: ‘No tourists please. Help welcome’