#my style and work has grown so much since i first drew these two ages ago.. how time flies.. how people grow :'-]

[krikidilly]

Think I forgot to post thisn but hehe! Salute!! Big smile!!

[tommodirection]

Little Sister

Harry Styles x Tomlinson! Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: swearing, playful mentions of Larry

Masterlist

A/N: Heylo! I hope you enjoy this! I’ve been working on this for about a month now, never being able to finish it, but I decided to sit down and finish it tonight instead of wallowing in self-pity! The Larry mention at the end is meant to be funny and playful, not something to take seriously! Thank you and have a nice day! ❤️💕🥰

—

When your brother went to audition for the X-Factor in 2010, you expected him to come home after, maybe with a signed record deal, maybe not, but home nonetheless.

Instead, he was put into a boy band with four other boys, and moved out. Your mother was proud, of course as anyone would be, but that also meant her oldest child had left the nest.

That left you, now the oldest in the house, and your four younger sisters. Your mum was handling it the best she could, but with Mark out of the house constantly, it got stressful for her.

You didn’t like Mark that much, sure, he was nice, and he treated your mother alright, he just didn’t seem like a commitment kind of guy to you.

You were adopted shortly after your mum left Louis’s father. Mark was accepting of the fact that she already had two kids, but became a bit offended when she took your side in an argument instead of one of their kids.

You loved all your siblings equally, well, Louis a bit more than the other girls, but you still loved them no matter how their father acted.

When Louis left, you were left to help your mother with the other girls, Mark not being much help. You were often left to help them get ready for school, get ready for bed, and you even had to run errands for your mother.

Since you were only 16, and hadn’t gotten a driver’s license, you had to walk almost everywhere, but you didn’t mind, not when you were helping your mother.

Having a brother who had recently become a famous member of a boy band, also meant you had to watch all the girls at your school drool over him. This also meant that a lot more people were trying to be friendly to you.

Most of the girls at your school loved Louis, probably because they thought they had the best chance with him, not that they had any chance.

However, you preferred Harry. You always had a soft spot for sweet boys with curly hair, but this time felt different. It probably was just a silly little crush, you’d obsess for a few weeks and then get over it.

You were so, so wrong.

You watched your brother and his mates smash their way through the charts for the next two years, becoming the best boy band of the generation.

The whole family was immensely proud of him, even Mark. You were particularly proud of Harry, though the rest of your family didn’t really care.

The small crush hadn’t faded, instead it had grown in the past two years, each time you saw him on a photo your brother sent, or on TV, you flushed and your heart started racing.

He was just perfect. Perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect dimples, perfect smile, perfect lips, perfect everything.

It honestly kind of upset you sometimes.

There you were, the sister of one of his best mates, same age as him too, and yet you had never met him.

That all changed when the band went to Madison Square Garden at the end of the year.

Since you were eighteen and finished with college, you were allowed to go with your mother to go see Louis perform.

As you and your mother approached the stadium, you felt a wave of awe wash over you. Your brother’s face was on the fucking front of Madison Square Garden. He was getting paid to be here.

Where the fuck did you go wrong?

The driver that Louis had hired pulled up in the front, allowing you both to get out along with Liam’s mum, Karen, who was a lovely lady.

You all climbed out of the car onto the busy New York City street, people busling past your trio to file into the large arena.

Your mother grabbed your hand and Karen’s as well, pulling you both into line.

Meanwhile, the boys were sitting in front of the camera, discussing their feelings about the upcoming show. Zayn and Liam were currently in the dressing room, and Niall was finishing his dinner, so Louis and Harry were left to be interviewed.

“You know, this is a big show for us, obviously,” Harry said, trying not to be gesticulative as he spoke, nerves buzzing through his body.

“Yeah, of course it’s big cos it’s MSG, but this is also the only one that all of us have at least one family member in the audience. Liam, Niall, and Zayn have their mums, Harry has his mum and stepdad, and my mum and sister are coming, which is of course rattling, you want them to be proud of you,” Louis said, leaning back on the couch.

Harry paused for a moment, “Wait, which sister?”

“Y/N, she’s finished with school, so mum let her come down, she’s ecstatic,” Louis smiled and Harry nodded, trying to keep a straight face for the camera.

He had never met you, he’s only heard stories from Louis, and seen pictures that his mum always sent him of all the girls.

He thought you were adorable, who wouldn’t? He wouldn’t call it a crush, he hadn’t even met you. However, there was definitely something about you that drew him near you.

Once you had gotten inside, Karen insisted on going to buy something. The concert was starting in a few minutes, so there weren’t many people at the tables, most already in their seats.

She was beaming, looking at all of the stuff with her son’s face on it, your mother bearing a similar smile. Karen spotted the cardboard cutouts of the boys. And her eyes lit up.

She rushed to buy one, your mother chuckling, but you could tell she was contemplating on buying one herself.

The pair began to walk away, the camera crew following them, but you stayed behind, stepping up to the cashier.

Your mother must’ve noticed you weren’t there, as seconds later she was at your side, rubbing your arm lightly.

“Whatcha buying?” She asked, humming as she moved her hand to your upper back.

You felt yourself flush as you ordered the Harry cutout. Your mother was laughing her arse off, clutching her stomach as she doubled over.

You felt embarrassed, but understood her reaction. Karen turned around to see the commotion and saw the cashier handing you the Harry cutout. She gave a light chuckle and waved you both over.

Your mother pretended to wipe a tear from her cheek, smirking at you, “Aw, my baby’s in love!” She teased and you bit your lip.

“Shut up,” you mumbled weakly.

The camera crew saw the interaction, getting the whole thing on tape. As you passed the camera, you gave it a small, awkward smile, stuffing the Harry under your arm.

The show was amazing, you didn’t expect any less.

The boys were energetic, entertaining the audience as they jumped and ran around the stage, clearly enjoying themselves.

You were placed in the front, along with the other mothers and Robin, Harry’s step-father. During Louis’ solos, you and your mother would cheer the loudest, the others doing the same for their respective child.

Each boy came to wave to all of you, grinning as they sang. Louis just made a funny face at you and your mother, almost missing his cue.

The other boys did similar things, running to wave while they were singing, but Harry hadn’t come over yet, something that was clearly disturbing Anne.

During a brief break in between songs, Harry came to sit on the edge of the stage in front of all of you. The fans surrounding you all were screaming, some laughing when he gave a bashful wave.

He brought the microphone to his mouth, interrupting Liam’s monologue.

“That’s my mummy!” He pointed to Anne, making her giggle as he bounced up and down where he sat. “Hi mummy!” He yelled, giving an over enthusiastic wave, the audience loving every second.

A grin spread across your face, watching the interaction warmed your heart. Anne was loving it, she blew Harry a kiss, and he caught it, pressing it to kiss cheek.

“I love you mum,” he said, seriously. The audience and all the boys on stage letting out a sweet ‘aw’.

“I love you, Hazza!” Anne tried to yell above the audience, her voice being drowned out, but Harry understood her perfectly.

He turned his attention to the rest of you, “Hi everyone!” He waved again, his grin still just as wide. His eyes scanned over each of you, and his met yours. “Y/N? You’re Lou’s sister, right?” He asked and you nodded, trying to ignore your mum poking your arm. “Damn!” He yelled and you felt yourself gaping, Louis standing up quickly.

“Excuse me?” He asked, in mock offense.

Harry realized his mistake, “No, no, no! That came out wrong,” he turned to you, “I didn’t mean any disrespect, I just mean that I imagined you being like,” he held up his hand a few feet off the ground, “this tall based on how Lou described you, and that is certainly not the case,” he affirmed and Louis playfully rolled his eyes.

“Sure,” he dragged it out, “I’m sure that’s what you meant,” he joked, and Harry stood, brushing off his bum.

“Anyways! On with the show!”

—

A few months later, the boys sat huddled around a table in the film director’s conference room.

The film was finally completed, and the boys were invited to watch it and suggest changes. The boys were a bit into the film now, mostly taking the piss out of it and teasing each other.

Then came the footage from Madison Square Garden.

The boys stayed silent the whole time that the mothers were speaking, being quiet for the first time since the film started.

After showing the mothers’ thoughts on them performing at MSG, it cut to the interviews backstage. It was mostly just the boys’ preparation. Harry and Louis’ interview showed up, and the teasing started right up again.

“Louis, did you see the way his face lit up when you mentioned Y/N?” Liam said through laughter, Zayn and Niall laughing with him.

Harry was glaring at the boys, trying to avoid looking at Louis, a furious blush coating his cheeks. Louis was trying to hide his smile, looking at Harry out of the corner of his eye.

Truth was, he didn’t mind at all. Sure, it was a little weird, but he knew Harry, and Louis knew about your little crush on him, your mum had told him about it and had even sent pictures of the Harry cutout, now set up in your room. He would rather you date Harry than some random kid from Doncaster. You and Harry would work well together, he may even dare to say you were perfect for each other. There was only one problem; you hadn’t met.

The boys had finally calmed down and the rest of the film continued. While Liam and Niall were talking about the time they had to be smuggled through a bread van, Louis took his chance. He leaned over, catching Harry’s attention, “Don’t listen to them, if I’m being honest with you, I wouldn’t mind if you dated my sister,” he whispered, Harry immediately getting flustered.

“I, what? I don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re mad,” Harry mumbled and Louis chuckled, patting Harry’s knee.

“It’s alright lad, no need to explain yourself.”

The topic wasn’t brought up again until the movie came out.

Well, it technically hadn’t come out yet. Each boy was allowed to stream it at their home, they were sent digital copies. Louis had invited you over to watch it a week before it officially came out, and of course you had said yes.

You decided to spend the week with him, needing a break from managing the house with your mother. You had felt guilty, seeing as it was now her alone, Mark had left early on in your brother’s departure. Although, Dan, her new fiancé, was there to help out a bit.

You pulled up outside his apartment building, parking and grabbing your bag from the passenger’s seat. You made your way into the apartment, keeping your head down as you knocked on the door.

Louis opened it, throwing his arms open with a large grin on his face. You set your bag down, giggling as you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

“I missed you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I missed you too,” he said, swaying with you in the doorway for a moment. He pulled away, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited someone else over too!”

“I don’t mind,” you said, squinting at your brother, why was he being so cheeky about it?

“Great! Alright, come on in! Harry’s on the couch, and before we watch the film, we’re gonna watch interviews!” He ushered you inside, grabbing your bag.

You stopped once you had entered the house, turning back to Louis, “Hold, go back there for a second, did you say Harry’s here?” You asked, quickly panicking.

You were answered by a voice behind you, “Louis, is your guest…” Harry trailed off as you turned around. He gaped for a moment, clearing his throat quickly, “Oh, uhm, hi Y/N, Louis didn’t say you were coming,” his eyes left you to quickly glance at Louis.

“Hi,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek.

It was quiet for a few moments, and Louis interjected, “Ready to watch the interviews?” He asked, not even waiting for an answer as he dragged both of you to the living room.

He sat down on the couch, pulling you and Harry on either side of him. “They sent me a weird version they made that has the interviews first, and the movie immediately after,” he leaned over and picked up a napkin he had set on the table.

On it were two times stamps, one that was pretty early on, and one that was presumably later in the film. He scrolled on the TV for a moment, getting the setting right and pressing start once the DVD was processed.

He began to fast forward through most of the interviews, you were a bit confused when he came to a stop in the middle of the interviews. You were about to say something, but he turned the volume all the way up, pressing play.

“If you had to set up your sister with one of the band, and you could trust them, who would it be?” The interviewer asked, leaning forwards as she spoke.

Liam and Zayn erupted, “None, none of them!” They both chided, clear looks of disgust on their face.

Louis sat contemplating for a moment, both Liam and Zayn looking at him with knowing smiles, “I have an ideal pair in mind, I’m not going to verify who, the lads already know who it is, my sister doesn’t, but I’ve got a plan,” he smirked, nodding enthusiastically.

The Louis next to you looked at his napkin again, fast forwarding it again, this time you were sat for a little bit longer, the tension in the room growing thicker. Both you and Harry had a feeling that he was talking about you guys, but neither of you dared say anything.

He unpaused it again, this time it was the actual film, iit showed you and your mum, along with Karen, it was the MSG footage.

You began panicking, trying to grab the remote from Louis, “Louis, Louis, turn it off, turn it off!” You yelled as you tackled him, reaching for the remote he was holding high.

He ducked to his side, quickly stuffing the remote down his trousers as the film continued playing. He gave you a triumphant smirk, but you narrowed your eyes, “don’t think I won’t look in there,” you threatened, and he shot up, running to the washroom, giggling the whole way.

You let out a grunt of defeat, collapsing on the couch and shrinking in on yourself, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, ‘m so so sorry Harry,” you grumbled, sinking further into the couch.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “It’s alright, love. I’ve already seen the movie,” he admitted and you let out an exasperated sigh.

“Shit,” you mumbled.

“Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assured, you felt him put his hand on your knee, making you flush even further. “In fact, if the roles were reversed, I probably would’ve bought a cutout of you too,” he began rubbing a small circle on your knee.

You removed your hands from your face at his confession, looking at him in confusion, “Wait, really?”

“Of course! When we first got together as a band, you called Louis, and he stepped outside for a minute to talk to you, when he got back, he had the biggest smile on his face. At first we thought that it was a girl he’d been talking to, but then he told us it was his sister, and I just had to know more about the girl who made him smile that big. He began talking about you, and about your other family of course, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how he described you, then he showed me pictures, and you just blew me away, as cheeky as it sounds,” he laughed lightly, your eyes traced his profile, “then I saw you at MSG, and I was even more shocked, you were much more mature than the last picture Louis had showed us. I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl who smiled brighter than sun, the one who loved her family more than anything, the one who could make anyone laugh just by speaking, and I hadn’t even met you! But now I’ve actually met you, and even seeing you wrestled with Louis earlier, it confirmed everything I already thought.” He paused, his eyes opening quickly, “I-Uhm, if you don’t like any of that, you can just ignore all of it.”

You sat in disbelief, joy overwhelming you, “Wait, so you like me?”

“I mean, yeah, if that whole speech wasn’t convincing enough, I can show you my diary,” he offered, and you put a finger to his lips.

“As tempting as that is, I really want to kiss you right now, is that alright?” You asked, scooting closer to him on the couch.

“Yeah, that would be amazing,” he giggled, placing his hand on your cheek as your lips met.

It was awkward at first, you were both angled on the couch, neither position comfortable. You shifted closer, slowly crawling onto his lap, quickly pulling away to make sure it was okay with him. When he gave you a subtle nod, you connected your lips again, his sweet, oddly sugary, plush lips. You ran your fingers through his curls, quickly tangling them. He put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as you continued to kiss. It was heavenly, everything you had ever dreamed of. Of course, your paradise had to be interrupted by something.

“Oi Oi!” Louis yelled from the hallway, “I get you like each other and all, but this is my couch, come on lads!” He complained, causing you to hurry off of Harry’s lap, taking a seat beside him. He playfully scoffed, pointing a finger at you, “Now, I’m going to get some food from the kitchen, no snogging while I’m gone!” He demanded as he walked out of the room.

You and Harry giggle to yourself, he turned to you, a playful smile adorning his face, “y’know, now that I’m dating a Tomlinson, maybe the Larries will finally back off,” he joked, earning a chuckle from you.

“Oh darling, you’re forgetting one thing,” you chided, he turned to you, obviously confused. “I’m the biggest Larrie of them all,” you teased.

“Oh shut it!” Both he and Louis yelled.

Permanent Taglist (If you want to be added just let me know!): @notsosmexy @ladytommomomoa @franchesca-791 @alwayshave-faith @bxtchboy69

[starshine583]

could you do A for the soul mate thing with felinette?

(Sorry it took me so long to reply! I’m still trying to keep up with my schedule for the “New Girl on the Block” fic, but rest assured that I’m totally writing all of the requests for this when I can! The next one I’m going to be working on is V for Daminette. I hope you enjoy the snippet and thank you for the ask!!)

If someone had the choice between technical immortality and certain death, it should be safe to assume that that person would accept the former. Technical immortal was the only logical option, after all. No one wanted to die. And yet, people chose death everyday. In fact, they were obsessed with it, because certain death guaranteed one thing that immortality couldn’t: a soulmate. 

When a person turns eighteen, their aging process freezes due to some strange magic that scientists still can’t explain. From then on, that person will remain eighteen until they find their soulmate, specifically until they touch their soulmate directly with bare skin. Once their soulmate is found, they will begin aging as usual, as if they’d never become temporarily immortal in the first place. Some people speculate that this gives the two soulmates a chance to grow old together.

Felix, personally, believed that it gave him a chance to harbor an unlimited life span free of charge. Who needs a soulmate when you can explore all of the things in the world that are normally hindered by the aging process? There were too many things that he wanted to accomplish for him to worry about something as fickle as love or relationships. 

One of those things happened to be building up the fashion empire that he had inherited.

It was hard to gain the respect that he deserved at first considering his physical appearance made him seem like a child, but once people found out that he was in his late twenties, it made things much easier. Now, three years has passed since his accepting the role of acting CEO, and the company’s success rate has been steadily rising until their profits were through the roof. He’s quite proud of it, if he’s being honest.

Felix straightened the papers on his desk and set them to the side, catching the glimpse of his golden wrist watch as he did so. The little hand pointed towards one in the morning, telling him that he’d spent another late night at the office. He didn’t mind, though. These were the things that needed to be done for his company to excel.

However, he also needed sleep for the company to excel, and this seemed like a good stopping point if ever he saw one, so Felix stood from his rolling chair to begin gathering his things to leave. 

“Hey, Sir, are you up there?” A voice crackled across the intercom. Felix paused his preparations to smile at it. It was the unmistakable voice of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, his personal secretary for the last two years (and his close friend for the last year and a half). They always happened to work late on the same nights, didn’t they?

He pressed the glowing red button on the intercom. “You know I am. What do you need?”

“I’m working on another piece for a fashion show. I want your input.”

Felix chuckled. How many of her pieces had he given his input on now?

“I’ll be down there in a second.”

“You’re the best!”

Felix set his stuff back on the desk and moved towards the door to his office. He hesitated briefly when he spotted his black, leather gloves on the edge of his desk- he made a point to wear them constantly, along with a number of other pieces of clothing, so he could avoid direct skin contact with others. No sense in taking any chances -but decided to leave them alone for once. Marinette should be the only other person in the office, anyway. It wouldn’t make a difference.

He took an elevator down to the second floor, where most of his top designers worked, and walked over to the desk that had its lamp turned on. He’d know which desk was hers either way- could probably find it in his sleep at this point -but it was a nice give away.

Marinette was crouched on the floor when he got there, stabbing a needle into some material that was draped across a mannequin. Her eyes were narrowed with concentration, and her tongue was poking out of her lips as it always did when she was working hard. Felix held back a snort at the endearing sight and glanced around her desk while he waited for her to notice his presence. 

When she first joined his company, she was a budding fashion designer, someone who had been gaining a bit of fame for working with Gabriel Agreste, Jagged Stone, Aubrey Bourgeois, and many other note-worthy people. Apparently, she thought it was time to build a business of her own, and therefore, applied for the job as his personal secretary in an effort to gain experience on how a business should be run before actually starting anything. 

The notion admittedly impressed Felix. People rarely thought to find personal experience in running a business before actually starting one. They normally just took a class and hoped that it paid off. Someone with that kind of rational thinking was someone he knew he wanted in his company, though, so he agreed to hire her, even if she would still be working independently on personal commissions.

Now that two years had passed, she would probably be leaving any minute now to become her own boss. It might be in a week, or in a few months, perhaps even a year, but he found himself dreading it no matter how long she continued to work for him. He’d grown quite accustomed to having her in his life, be it getting lunch together or going over the morning schedule or giving each other advice on their work. The quiet moments they shared made work life a little more enjoyable and made those rare nights of loneliness from refusing a soulmate a little more tolerable too. 

“Oh, Felix!” 

Felix’s eyes dragged back down to Marinette, who was staring up at him with wide eyes.

“When did you get down here?”

A small smile crossed his lips. “You know how it used to be one in the morning?”

Marinette tisked, picking up on his light-hearted tone. “Oh, whatever. If you don’t want to get stuck waiting then tell me when you get here. Now, come look at this and tell me what you think.”

She stood up and moved away from the mannequin, then gestured for Felix to step closer, which he gladly obliged to do. The outfit hanging on the mannequin was a dress that appeared to have several layers and a few frills. It seemed to be made out of silk on the inside, and on the inside was another material that had an antique, flower pattern. The way the materials were sown together, though, and the things she must have added to the flower pattern, didn’t  give off the impression of it being old or outdated. It was a mix between old and new that created a unique combination.

“I think it looks fine.” He said after studying it.

Marinette groaned. “Fine doesn’t help me, Felix. What does it strike you as? Stunning? Charming? Old-Fashioned? I know you have more descriptive terms than ‘fine’ in that word bank brain of yours.”

Felix laughed. “Work bank brain?”

“You know what I mean.”

He does.

“Alright, Alright.” He knelt down next to the outfit again. “Might I inquire about your purpose for this garment?”

“See, there are fancy words you use all the time.” She remarked teasingly, even though she often used the same words herself. “I’m trying to create a modern Victorian type of style for my next show.”

Felix hummed. “Can I see the sketches?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re right over here.”

The pair moved back to Marinette’s desk, and she sat down in her rolling chair to slide a paper towards him. Felix leaned towards Marinette, placing his palms on the desk for balance.

“So, if you look at- oh!” Marinette had just started explaining her original thoughts for the design, when their hands brushed against each other. She drew her hand back immediately, surprise reflecting in her bluebell eyes.

“You’re not wearing any gloves.”

“Ah.” Felix drew his hands back as well. “No, I’m not. I figured they were a waste of time tonight, since it’s only us here.”

“Oh..” Marinette said. “I don’t think I’ve ever touched your bare skin before.. N-not that I’m keeping track or anything! Wow, that sounded so weird-”

Felix, being used to her ramblings by now, only chuckled. “It’s alright. I don’t think we’ve ever touched like that either.”

In fact, he knew they hadn’t, because he does keep track of who he does and doesn’t touch with his bare skin. So far, he’s managed to maintain a low count of five or so, but he supposed adding one more to the list didn’t hurt.

“Anyway, I like the way it looks. The colors combine nicely, and I can certainly see where you’re coming from with the modern, yet old-fashioned design. I’m sure people will enjoy them, especially for costume parties.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Marinette smiled. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. I’m actually on my way out the door, but don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything else.”

“You know I won’t.”

Felix laughed and pushed himself off of the desk to begin making his way back to the elevator. “Make sure you leave soon too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.. Eventually.”

Felix threw her a playful glare over his shoulder. “I’m not kidding, Dupain-Cheng. If I see bags under those eyes tomorrow, you’re going to be fired until you get a proper night’s sleep.”

“Thank goodness for make-up then.” She joked back.

Felix rolled his eyes and bid her farewell as he entered the elevator, and her soft call of “Goodnight, Boss” managed to reach him right before the doors slid closed.

-

The next morning began as any other morning. Felix woke up to his blaring alarm clock, forced himself out of bed, and started the brew for his morning coffee. He then dragged himself over to the bathroom to get ready for the day, starting with his hair.

The mirror provided a picture of his sluggish figure as he combed his platinum blond locks to the side. His hair didn’t seem to care to cooperate that morning though, because his cowlick was refusing to lay aside as they were told. No matter how many times he combed over it, the chaotic locks refused to budge.

Felix huffed and leaned closer to the mirror, but before he could continue furiously coming his hair, something caught his attention.

At the front of his bangs, dangling loosely to the side of his face, was a single, grey hair.

Felix frowned, moving even closer to the mirror to get a better. It was definitely a grey hair, but why on earth would he have one? People at the age of eighteen didn’t get grey hairs, and he’d never gotten one before. The only reason he could possibly get a grey hair out of the blue like this was if-

Felix froze, his eyes blowing wide. No.. no, it couldn’t be. There’s no way he found his soulmate. It was impossible. The aging process only started when he touched them directly, skin to skin, and he’d been horribly precise not to do so with anyone under any circumstances. 

Well.. anyone except..

A knock came from the front door.

Although his mind was racing for answers, Felix pulled himself together enough to throw on a robe and go answer the door. 

Imagine his surprise when he found none other than Marinette standing right outside.

She looked up at him, her figure tense, and a certain anxiety painted her features. He wanted to ask what she was doing there, or why she hadn’t called to tell him that she was coming, but all he could do was stare. Perhaps it was because a part of him already knew why she’d come to visit him. She was the only person he’s touched directly in the last year, the only person who could have caused his hair to change.

Slowly, Marinette held up a strand of her hair. It was hard to make out, being a single strand, but Felix didn’t need to see it know it was grey too.

They stared at each other, both floored by the discovery, but then Felix almost had to laugh. Because of course it was her. Of course the person who he had come to know and adore and yearn to be around daily would be his soulmate. He should have known that soulmates would find each other eventually, whether they had “Soulmate Magic” to guide them or not.

Before he could say anything, Marinette let out a grieved sigh and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh, Felix, I.. I’m so sorry!”

For a moment, Felix stalled, and worry started to set in. She’s sorry? Why would she be sorry?

“What do you mean?”

Marinette looked up from her hands. “I know you didn’t want to find your soulmate and start aging. I should have noticed your ungloved and been more careful, but I just wasn’t thinking, and-”

Felix blinked as she continued rambling. This girl was apologizing to him because she accidentally found out that they were soulmates. She wasn’t thinking about how much she’d wanted to find her soulmate- because he knew that she did -or that she would have gone without a soulmate for the rest of her life had she not made the discovery. No, she was thinking about him and what he had wanted, just as she always did.

“Marinette.” He said, taking her by the shoulders. “Marinette, stop.”

The ravenette paused, glancing up at him with her beautiful, concerned eyes, and he felt himself smile. 

“If anyone had to be stuck as my soulmate.. I can’t express how delighted I am that it’s you.”

A wonderful blush tinted her cheeks. “R-Really? But I thought- what about being immortal?”

Felix chuckled, and he reached out to cup her cheek. “Immortality’s a small price to pay to have you.. if you’ll have me too, that is.”

Marinette exhaled, looking completely baffled, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

“Yes.” She breathed, a shining smile coming to her features. “Yes, of course I’ll have you.”

Felix couldn’t help grinning as well, and as he pressed another kiss to her lips, he wondered how it could have taken him so long to realize what the soulmate magic was really all about. It wasn’t a choice between immortality or death, but rather a choice between immortality and life. All of the things he’d been searching for- fame, fortune, glory -and the experiences he’d been chasing meant nothing without Marinette by his side. She was the one who made him feel truly alive, and he never wanted to live without her again.

(Send me a letter and I’ll write a thing!)

[letterboxd]

High Ground.

Australian director Stephen Maxwell Johnson tells Letterboxd’s Indigenous correspondent Leo Koziol about his revisionist new meat-pie Western High Ground, working in a ‘both-ways’ style, and how he approaches the question of story sovereignty.

“Maybe we’re all feeling a little more vulnerable, a little more open to thinking about who the fuck we all are in this world.” —Stephen Maxwell Johnson

Note: this interview may contain images and stories of people who have passed away.

Not every Western has a ‘Croc Spotter’ in its production credits, but Australian Westerns are in a league of their own. The genre has long been a staple of Australian cinema; the world’s first narrative feature film is considered to be Charles Tait’s 1906 bushranger yarn about the Kelly Gang. While the likes of outlaw Ned Kelly have made good Western fodder for more than a century now, recent entries in the sub-genre—known colloquially as meat-pie Westerns—are starting to look a little longer and harder at the relationship between British colonizers and the Indigenous peoples of the Great Southern Land.

This year brings two such tales: Leah Purcell’s feminist western The Drover’s Wife: The Legend of Molly Johnson, which made our Best of SXSW 2021 list, and Stephen Maxwell Johnson’s High Ground, which was executive produced by a community of Aboriginal activists, including Witiyana Marika, one of the founding members of groundbreaking Aboriginal band Yothu Yindi. (Marika is also in the film as tribal elder, Grandfather Dharrpa, taking on a role that was intended for Aboriginal great David Gulpilil, who has retired from acting due to ill health.)

Simon Baker as Travis and Jacob Nayinggal Junior as Gutjuk.

Set in Australia post World War I, and based on true stories told by the traditional inhabitants of Arnhem Land, in north-eastern Australia, High Ground opens with—content warning—a brutal massacre by white Australian police of an Indigenous family. The story soon pairs Gutjuk (Jacob Nayinggal Junior, in his impressive screen debut) with bounty hunter Travis (heart-throb Simon Baker, in gnarly outback mode) in a manhunt that brings the opposing forces of colonizers and inhabitants to a head.

Nayinggal Junior, the grandson of Arnhem Land traditional owner Jacob Nayinggal, was not yet born when Johnson, who is a white Australian, began the long process of developing High Ground with his Indigenous partners, whose oral histories informed the film’s plot. Johnson’s connection to Yothu Yindi and his partners’ community goes back over 30 years; he directed the original music video for the band’s 1991 international hit ‘Treaty’, the first Indigenous-language song to chart prominently in Australia.

This is Johnson’s second feature film connected to the Yolngu communities in north-eastern Australia; the first, Yolngu Boy, is a coming-of-age story of three young friends on a journey to Darwin after one of the boys lands in trouble. It has been twenty years since that debut, and High Ground has been a labor of love in the time since.

Simon Baker in ‘High Ground’.

The film takes its sound design from the land and its inhabitants, turning the volume up on birds, insects, snakes, gunshots and Aboriginal song. Expansive cinematography makes sure to place characters within the context of their surrounds—a constant reminder that the land is bigger than anything happening on it. “Brutal in all the right ways, and as honest as an Australian colonial Western should be,” writes Coffeenurse. “It’s really something how the Australian Western has become the way for Australian cinema to explore the weight of colonialism and imperialism in our history and culture,” agrees Smoothjazzlord. “Stephen Johnson doesn’t shy away from complexity and I appreciate that,” writes TheEllamo.

I spoke to Johnson at length about his “both-ways” journey of bringing the film to the screen through collective research, song and storytelling.

Notes: ‘Blackfella’ and ‘whitefella’ are informal, self-descriptive terms often used by Indigenous and Aboriginal Australians and their friends. Johnson makes several references to ‘makaratta’, an intricate Yolngu term that describes the process of coming together to face wrongs, reconcile and make peace, and to ‘Country’, which is an Indigenous colloquialism describing one’s association with one’s own land and family.

Witiyana Marika (second from left) and Simon Baker (on horse) with Yolngu cast members.

Tell us how the story of High Ground came about. Stephen Maxwell Johnson: I was very fortunate in my life to have had two parents who explored the world. I grew up in the Bahama Islands, in Africa and they came to northern Australia. My father was an educator of the Yolngu people, and really, my friendships and my associations in my life have been about growing up with Indigenous cultures and people.

I've never really been disconnected from that, and the stories I grew up with—things I’ve heard, ceremonies I’ve seen—were very much a part of my education. I went to school and the stories I’m hearing, all the whitefella stories about Captain Cook and the invasion and what happened, no one ever wanted to go any deeper or open a story book to where it all began, and how old it actually all is.

As you know, it’s the oldest living culture on Earth, it’s an amazing connection to Country and the stories and the songlines. So, we came together, we made a decision to tell a story of the resistance that became High Ground, over many years sitting on Country with old men and women and family and drawing inspiration from true stories and true characters, then putting together what was obviously a fiction (but so is history).

It was about wanting to tell a deeper truth, but to create a film that was entertaining, so it really drew you in, and allowed you to come out the other end to perhaps reflect and rethink the Australia story, and, really, the greater human story about who we all are.

Witiyana Marika (front, seated) on the set of ‘High Ground’.

A unique aspect of your film is that Yothu Yindi band member Witiyana Marika is a producer. How did you connect with Yothu Yindi and establish those friendships? Well, I did pretty much all of the Yothu Yindi stuff, I made ‘Treaty’ and ‘Djäpana’ and all those clips that the band did. I directed and photographed all of that stuff. For many years, anything that was Yothu Yindi, I was there doing it. Witiyana and Mandawuy [late Yothu Yindi frontman Dr. Mandawuy Yunupingu] were two of my dearest, dearest friends—my father actually knew Mandawuy back in school days, so there’s a deep and long connection there. Witiyana picked up the mantle after Mandawuy passed away. It even goes back further than that, to discussions with old man Bill Neidjie and Jacob Nayinggal, who sort of drew up the battle lines and helped create Kakadu [National Park].

Jacob Junior Nayinggal, he’s been born and became the lead actor; his grandfather would be so pleased that his grandson ended up being the lead actor in this film. ’Cause it was always about getting a Yolngu hero leading the story of the resistance, which was what it was called back in the day.

It’s really been a both-ways journey. That’s what everything that Yothu Yindi sang about, was that idea of bridging between two cultures, that idea of coming together and sharing knowledge and respecting each other. That balance—makaratta. That’s been my journey. That is the journey.

Callan Mulvey as Ambrose in ‘High Ground’.

A big issue for people in the Indigenous film community is storytelling sovereignty: “nothing about us without us”. Do you feel that the community working closely with you to make this film meant that you were telling their story in the way they wanted it seen and heard? Well if you have a look at the credits it sort of says a lot about the process. Twenty years working together. As I said to you, I don’t see myself as a whitefella over here and they’re blackfellas over there, I see [us] as being human. They’ve been my dearest and closest friends all my life. This is us sitting down, together. Listening. Learning both ways. Bridging the gap and wanting to tell the bigger story about this country.

In this country there’s a very big story to be told. It has two different perspectives and it was about getting that right and spending the time together right. It is very much a Yolngu story; everything has been meticulously researched, and spoken about, and sung. The producers, the executive producers, all the creators in the film are predominantly Yolngu people, right across. Everything is ultimately connected and it is very much the voice of this land that we wanted to shine through in the story of High Ground.

That sort of thing came back in the day, when I made ‘Treaty’: “What’s a whitefella telling [our story]?” Are you kidding me? Mandawuy had the same reaction, he said “We’re doing this together”. Christ almighty we’ve known each other for a lifetime and we’re working together creating and telling stories. There you go. Simple as that. If anyone’s got a problem with that then I think they’re the one with the problem.

‘High Ground’ director Stephen Maxwell Johnson.

Certainly, Yothu Yindi itself was comprised of both blackfella members and non-blackfellas. Exactly. Exactly. Look. I’ve grown up with blackfellas from right across Arnhem Land, and it’s been nothing but a deep and beautiful, profound friendship. I’ve never seen it as me and them. We’re just humans. We are one. We share, we care, we love, we laugh. There is so much to be learned from the ancient culture of this country. And the land and the language and the people.

It’s a beautiful thing having that kind of connection and immersion in that world. And that’s been my life story. I’ve been very fortunate to have had that. A lot of people don’t get that experience… being able to work so closely and so deeply with my friends—and family; I was adopted in, as well.

And can I tell you, every single person in Arnhem Land is so proud of this film, it is their film. Their story. It’s been their creative process as well. Every person who is involved in the crew and the journey of the film has had a life-changing experience, for the better. We just hope that the film and the story do help contribute to that bigger conversation, that idea of makaratta and sorting out the shit and getting on with a bit of truth telling.

How was the reaction in the Aboriginal community? Have you had the opportunity to take the film back to the people in Arnhem Land, to have screenings there? First thing we did. With the elders, that’s what we all planned. They said, “right, as soon as we’ve done this, the first thing we’re going to do, we’re going to bring this back to the families and show it to the families first.” And that’s precisely what we did; we took a big screen out into Arnhem Land, and put it out in the bush, for the families to watch. It was an amazing experience.

Let me tell you, the screams and the applause, and the laughter and the tears, when they saw the film, on their Country. Their film. Their story. Obviously they can listen to the language and the songlines in the film in a completely different way. It was beautiful. I almost couldn’t stop crying. That sense of pride that everyone had in the film, they just own it. It’s theirs and it’s everyone’s. It’s a beautiful way to create something.

The community screening of ‘High Ground’ on the Gunbalanya football field in West Arnhem Land, Australia.

Did you manage to have those screenings happen before Covid-19? Well, no. The Northern Territories, as you know, was clear. I had to go into quarantine and once the Arnhem Land bio-zone was relieved just a little bit, we took the film out. We had to hit the pause button with Covid, but [then] we did it. People just drove, and flew, and walked from hundreds of miles to come to the place where we blew up the screen and projected the light.

That’s a wonderful story. What’s the reaction been from mainstream Australia? Look, very, very good. [The film’s distributor] Madman said it made double what [they] thought it would in box office. I think we were fortunate maybe in some respects coming on the back of Covid-19. Maybe we’re all feeling a little more vulnerable, a little more open to thinking about who the fuck we all are in this world. There is this kind of turning of the tide, now, of people and of a new generation wanting to learn and understand about our connection to Country.

We’re blessed with, you know, what we have right here. We need to nurture it, take care of it, respect it, celebrate it, dance it, sing it, talk it. It’s a beautiful thing to be able to tap into.

Thank you Stephen so much for your time. I just want to say I was thoroughly engrossed by your film. It was powerful, it was important. I found particularly the scene in the middle, where a Treaty signing was hinted at: that would have been a cathartic moment for the people of Arnhem Land? To think ‘that could have been what our people had done in the 1930s’, instead of the lack of a Treaty, which Australia has never had. All power to you and everything you’ve done. That’s beautiful mate, and I will say, just one lovely parting thought here, you know yes, it’s my work, but honestly it’s such a team effort. Such trust, such great friendships and collaborations to create something like this. It’s no one fella’s effort, it’s an incredible team effort.

Related content

Meat-Pie Westerns, Kangaroo Westerns, Australian Westerns: a Letterboxd HQ list

Always Was, Always Will Be, Aboriginal Land: Troy’s list of the best of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander “Australia” in film and television

Australian Aboriginal Movies: an extensive list by Wayne

Australian Films Worth Your Time: Jacob’s list of Ocker cinema

My Name is David Gulpilil: Molly Reynolds’ new film celebrating the actor’s extraordinary life

Follow Leo on Letterboxd

‘High Ground’ is available now on digital and VOD via Samuel Goldwyn Films.

[thecomposerofstories]

Information on Amy.

(Be warned it's a ~little bit~ long, any other pieces of information you want to know I'll gladly answer if you ask.)

~General Information~

Fandom: Toy Story.

Name: Amy the Ragdoll.

Nickname, if any: Amy, Ames, and Doll-Face(usually by more villainous characters or used in a joking manner).

Gender: Female.

Sexuality: ??? (I mean I know the gender of who she has a crush on, but I'm unsure on what her actual sexuality should be tbh)

Age: Mentally, mid-twenties in the first story second movie, thirties to forties in the third and fourth. Physically, she doesn’t have an age, but in regards to when she was made (the 1950’s) makes her fifty to sixty.

City they currently live in: San Francisco, apparently that’s where Toy Story takes place.

Any pets: Would Rex count? He just follows her around like a nervous puppy.

Current occupation: I mean she’s practically a therapist, but she’s a toy and she only treats Rex so it probably doesn’t count lol

~Physical Appearance~

Height: 10 inches.

Body type: Stocky, but a bit gangly too, similar to Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Eye colour: Black.

Skin tone: Light.

Clothing style: Pale green/turquoise shirt with short puffed sleeves, with a denim dungaree dress with a daisy print in the centre over it. She wears yellow rain boots.

Hairstyle: No style, it’s just there. It’s messy and gets in her face easily and is made out of dark brown thin string.

~Speech/Language/Communication~

Amy speaks quietly and politely, rambles a bit if left without a reply or under pressure, very nervous in front of intimidating characters.

First language: English.

Learned languages: A bit of Spanish (Ya’ll remember Toy Story 3!)

Accent: American.

Pitch of voice: High, but soft, not quite annoying, unless she’s stressed, then it gets very pitchy and shrill.

~Behaviour/Habits~

Amy tends to just stand there when she can’t find anything to do, and will immediately try to find Rex, Hamm, Buzz or Jessie if surrounded by strangers (Though she’s not sure if it’s for their comfort or her own) Amy is very polite.

Spending habits: She doesn’t like to be made a fuss of at all, the very fact of someone giving something to her is unnerving (even if the thing never costed anything at all) and she feels compelled to give the giver something in return.

Morning routine: She gets up same time as the others, but wishes she could stay in bed a bit longer though. Before she came to Andy’s room, her sleep pattern was all over the place.

Bedtime routine: Similar to above, now she goes to bed the same time as the others, but before she just slept and got up willy-nilly.

Nervous habits: Amy will try to find Rex if she’s nervous, and she’ll pretend it’s because she’s worried for him, which is quite true, but she also just feels most safe with him. Speaking of, Amy will let Rex hold her hand and squish it whenever he or Amy is nervous, it’s calming to the both of them.

Bad habits: Not a very good exerciser, but then again, she’s spend basically half her life in a small attic, so I’ll give her a break.

Skills/talents: She’ very logical, mind-over-matter, (mostly, very good at calming others down and/or convincing them. She’s very good at spelling and knows quite a lot of words, some of which others haven’t even heard of.

Hobbies: Reading, talking (especially with Rex, Jessie or Hamm), and generally just lazing about or walking around somewhere, on her own or with a friend.

~The Past~

Amy’s first owner was a little girl called Alice. Alice loved nothing more than to read Amy stories (Mostly fairy tales), but of course, Alice grew up like all kids do, and she left Amy in the attic for someone else to have her.

Amy waited for many years, and all that time she’d never given up that someone would find her.

She thought she’s hit the jackpot when Andy and his family move into Alice’s old house, but they don’t go up into the attic to collect her. Some weeks later, though, Andy’s mother brings a set of boxes filled with junk into the attic and leaves. Woody, Buzz, Slinky, and Rex were trapped in one of the boxes (Call me a cheater but this part was actually inspired by a Toy Story comic, where those four toys get stuck in the attic that way and have to escape. It struck me odd that they never met at least one new friend there, so I made one. It was also my first story, I needed some inspiration!)

Amy, in a fit of panic, goes and hides.

But then she’s found by Rex as he and the others try to find a way out.

They then decide to let the strange, dust-covered ragdoll come back to Andy’s rom with them. (well, Rex did, anyway.)

Home town: Would Alice’s old room count? But it’s now Andy’s Room, so it won’t count will it?

Happy or sad childhood: Pretty normal to be honest, as normal a life as a toy could have anyway. And as for sadness, having spent all that time on her own for all those years, having missed out on so much, is a little sad. But Amy made sure she never became bitter over it or used it as an excuse for anything.

Earliest memory: Waking up in her toy store, with a friend of hers for company (a ragdoll Prospector, a much as she remembers) and as she gets bought by Alice’s Auntie, she says she hopes he gets picked up by a kid. (Unbeknownst to her, she would meet him again in a while to find out he never got to experience it)

Saddest memory: One, being left by Alice, yet being so happy for her and how much she’s grown up, if she could cry tears of joy for her owner, she would. Two, some (or most) of the days she spent waiting for a new owner to arrive. And three, watching Rex have a mental breakdown of anxiety.

Happiest memory: One, the time she and Alice went to the park, (Amy absolutely adores nature) Two after sliding down a drainpipe to get to Andy’s room, and three, having known she’d helped her friend out.

Significant events: Being bought, being left in an attic, being rescued from the attic, while gaining some new friends.

~Family~

The entirety of Andy’s room, whether they like it or not, they’re all in this together and are some kind of mish-mash, found family in a sense.

Siblings: I’ve been thinking of giving Amy a brother (since I based her on Raggedy Ann, a matching bootleg Raggedy Andy seems reasonable) bur I’m unsure about it, since I’ve already mapped out Amy’s entire series of stories (Around six or seven all together, so far I’m currently writing only the third) and I can only fit him in the fifth or sixth if I can.

~Relationships~

Romantically? I’d like to say she has a crush on Rex, I don’t know why I thought of it, I was contemplating it one day as I sketched a rough (and terrible) sketch of her, and I drew Rex too because he’s just so fun to draw and I wanted to make a scale for Amy’s size, and one of my friends (who had been watching me) immediately said “I ship it!” and well, the rest is history, I made the decision to ship it too.

Friends: Jessie, Hamm, Buzz, and Rex are her closet friends, but she’d like to say that all the Gang are her friends. Later on she becomes good friends with Mr. Prickle Pants, Buttercup, Trixie and Totoro, and she absolutely loves the peas and Forky.

Best friend(s): Hamm, Mr. Prickle Pants, Jessie, and Rex.

What do people like about them? Amy’s pretty easy to talk to, she’s polite and attentive and will sit in companionable silence with someone if they need it. But she won’t hesitate to give hard truths and advice if it’s needed.

What do people dislike about them? Amy is quite a doormat, if someone is rude to her or breaches anything she just lets it happen, and sometimes she’s too indecisive about her own stuff, unsure whether she’s going to offend others or not over the smallest things, which annoys others quite a bit.

~Mentality/Personal Beliefs~

Amy is a toy of logic, and though she believes others can do it if they set their minds to it, she doesn’t quite believe in herself. She believes she must follow the rules of being a toy at all times, no matter what.

Phobias: Dust. She hates it. It took a good five weeks to brush all the dust out her hair and clothes, and even so there’s still some in her pockets and places she can’t reach. And being alone, too. Now she can’t be alone for more than an hour before she starts to get antsy and nervous. And for a short time books gave her a strange tiredness, after reading them for so long and for so many years she couldn’t even stand the sight of them.

But of course, not for long, since Amy found out Andy had a copy of Red’s Dream by a Mr. William Reeves.

Optimist or pessimist: Depends on the situation really, if her mind can’t come up with a solution, then there’s no point in trying anymore. Unless someone else can think of something, that is.

Personal philosophies: “You are here to make good things happen. No person here is made for one reason only, or even only one. There’s no point in pretending to be someone you’re not just for the attention of others, no matter how cool they are. We should find are own meaning, as we’re the only ones who have control of it.

It’ll take a while, but I swear, it’ll be worth it.”

Biggest dream/wish: Amy wants nothing more than to find meaning for herself, but finds it rather hard to do so. Of course, that doesn’t mean she’ll settle for someone else’s meaning. As cheesy as it sounds, she just wants an adventure. She doesn’t necessarily want to be the hero, though, she’s just happy to go along with the ride so long as it gets her out the house for a few hours. She also, above all else, wants Rex to find meaning too, even if she never does, it would be nice to know that he had.

Greatest strength(s): Persuasion, story-telling, logic, and good grammar.

Biggest flaw: Despite being a ragdoll, Amy can’t sew because of her fingerless hands, which are just soft mittens in shape. Amy is also quite a doormat, as I said before, so if her calm persuasion and reasoning doesn’t work, she’s left to be walked all over.

Regrets: Staying in that dratted attic too long, the window was open, she could’ve just climbed out, but no, she had to stay there for some mind-rotting decades. But if she had just escaped, she would never have met her new friends. Amy just wishes she had met them a lot sooner.

Achievements: Escaped the attic, slid down a drainpipe, leapt onto the windowsill (though nearly knocking Woody and Buzz over in the process) stopped her friend from having a panic attack, and managed to remember the entire Dictionary and is able to recite it down from A to Z, and even Z to A.

Secrets: Not much, just strange feelings for one of her friends, but it’s not much of a secret, Bo knows, and Mr. Potato Head and Hamm could see it from a mile away, and the others have their suspicions.

Goals: Read the entirety of Andy’s (and later Bonnie’s) bookshelves, become more confident in herself, have her own book-worthy adventure, and figure out what those strange feelings for her friend is.

~Likes/Favourites~

Favourite colour: Even before meeting Rex, Amy’s favourite colour was always green. Every time Alice had taken her to the park, Amy adored watching the sunlight pour through the leaves with a golden-green glow.

Favourite book(s): Because it’s sentimental to her, being her owner’s favourites, she loves Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Peter Pan, and The Wizard of Oz. They all hold similar plots (a little girl in a blue dress goes to a fantasy land, has a few adventures, and then leaves said fantasy land to go home to her family and responsibilities) but it reminds Amy of her old owner Alice (who was actually named after Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland) and their playtimes together.

Favourite Book Quotation(s):

“Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.”

“There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is facing danger when you are afraid.”

Favourite movie: Amy does much prefer books, since they allow her to imagine the setting and characters in her own way, but doesn’t mind movies, and isn’t picky on what they watch, though she does quite like horror films.

Favourite song: Amy likes any kind of music, new or old.

Favourite game: Amy never really cared for games, the competitiveness always bothered her and stressed her out. But she’s more than happy to watch Rex play his video games and cheer him on.

~Relationships with other characters~

~Rex~

- Hit it off pretty quickly.

- Amy helps him with his anxiety, and helps him find confidence in himself, she acts as a certain therapist to him.

- Both become very stressed without the other around.

- Rex will hold and knead at Amy’s hands sometimes; it calms him down.

- Rex will let Amy ride on his back if she’s tired or needs to see something (Because she’s so short).

- One of them can basically be talking about the most boring-est things ever, yet still the other will hang on to their every word.

~Jessie~

- Became friends pretty quickly.

- Will drag Amy along anywhere.

- Get along fairly well.

- Jessie does the talking and Amy does the planning.

- Jessie always pranks the other toys and makes Amy tag along (along with Hamm).

- Introvert/Extrovert dynamic for sure.

- Both were left in alone for years so like to find solace in each other.

~Hamm~

- Hamm begrudgingly warmed up to the timorous ragdoll.

- Surprisingly good pals.

- Have full conversations without saying anything.

- Like to sit and look out of the window together.

- Hamm makes Amy laugh when she really shouldn’t (mainly when he makes fun of the other toys, mainly Woody).

- Hamm makes fun of Amy having a crush on Rex every once in a while, though he doesn’t mean any harm.

~The Potato Heads~

- Mr. doesn’t really interact with Amy much, but finds her surprisingly tolerable, if a bit high-strung and annoying.

- Like Hamm, Mr. makes Amy laugh at the most wrong moments.

- She and Mrs. Are quite good friends, and she sometimes lets Amy take care of the aliens if she and her husband are busy.

~Woody~

- Are aquianteces.

- Don’t exactly interact much, even though the whole room practically revolves around him, in Amy’s opinion, though she would never say it to his face.

~Buzz~

- Amy thinks he’s super cool (then again, he is Buzz Lightyear, he practically invented coolness)

- Both are just as clueless as one another when it comes to social cues and interactions.

- Amy helps him with vocabulary and spelling every once in a while.

~Mr. Prickle Pants~

- Are absolute BFF’s.

- Go back and forth with book quotes to the point of driving the other toys insane.

~Bo Peep~

- Amy's not exactly sure if Bo has befriended her or not.

- (She has)

- They later become good friends.

- Amy misses their talks, Bo was one of the only toys she could talk to that could keep a secret.

[manjuhitorie]

Interview with Shinoda - Guitar Magazine March 2021 - English Translation

I began to wonder "What have I been deeming as ‘good’ all along?"

-Thank you for coming all the way out here. To kick it off I’d like to ask what the story behind the title ‘REAMP’ is.

AMP is like the recording mechanism, correct. I recorded by re-amping a lot this album, after it was recommended to me by our engineer. I recreated most of the sound in an amp simulator, sampled it at home on a line-in, then brought that in to the studio. There I sent the line-in signal to the guitar amps, recorded the sound coming from the amp, and voila. This way the guitar playing and the sound engineering become two separate things. At home I focus on the recording, at the studio I focus on the mixing.

-That’s a great way to localize your focus.

Though my workload multiplies (laughs).

-Ultimately you’re spending even more time focusing (laughs).

Yep (laughs). To put a long story short, we dipped our feet into new techniques for this album. So when it came down to deciding the title, 'Restart' or 'Reload' or any words with the prefix 'RE' were among consideration, but we couldn't find a good one. When at last I remembered that I had re-amped (laugh). I proposed the idea, it clicked with everyone, and now here we are.

-A bit of a double meaning to it then. What felt the most different this time in regards to the new techniques?

Back when wowaka was with us, he was the ultimate judge over whether a take or sound was good or bad. But now I have to be the judge and the one who takes the rudder myself... The main difference is that I need to become the axis now. When I was alone at home it hit me just how little I had a sense of good and bad (laughs). I began to wonder "What have I been deeming as ‘good’ all along?”.

-I see. What do you find difficult about singing and playing Hitorie’s music?

I found that I don’t have much leadership (laughs). I’m more fit for the sidelines and such... I’ve had a long career of being the lead guitarist, wherein there’s always been another leader figure above me who’s actions I’ve responded to and taken my own approach to.... A correspondent presence in a way....

—Then the necessity for a number one in command popped up.

Yep. It was like, I was really in a pinch back there. If I was to get anywhere, before anything I needed to establish my own standards of good and bad. I looked back at the music I’ve loved throughout my life, and started from there.

-Were you able to establish your own judgment through this album then?

I did what I could do. But, I’m still missing something... I don’t think it’s something you can find through just one album. I still haven’t, and there’s parts of the album that I still feel my optimization was lacking. I feel that I want to make a more polished, less rugged around the edges, piece. I’ve only established the groundwork for now. Such as what makes good music, the rhythm, pitch and so on. The basics.

-What makes good music ‘good’ to you, Shinoda?

Hmm... Phrase before sound... I think there needs to be a phrase before anything. To put it simply, the music needs to be what’s encouraging the phrases. Whatever achieves that the most effectively tends to be what I deem as good music. There’s a bunch of options when it comes to even strumming one chord. To use a single coil, a humbucker, a P-10.... Not to mention that strumming different will change how a chord resonates. Each note has its own goodness scale as well. Contemplating all that is what makes music.

-When I look at your music itself, I can see how this came into play as well. The phrases themselves have become less complex, while the riffs have become even more powerful. Especially ‘curved edge’, a killer tune even among the rest.

My bandmates and I each pitched in to write the music for REAMP, I wrote 10 while they wrote 1 each initially, basically I had to write a lot (laughs). And the last and final piece I wrote was ‘curved edge’.

-I see.

We intentionally lessened the riff-tastic music, we were eschewing following the old ‘Hitorie formula’. I made more chilled out downers. But the more I did it, the less interested I noticed my bandmates become (laughs). It didn’t click with me myself either, and it didn’t bring us together much. I thought I was doomed to never write a song that would properly fit Hitorie.. When I got the idea to write a song that mixed intense riffs and modern beats, ‘That I might be able to do’.

-In a way you wrote that song at wit’s end.

From there I drew inspiration from K-Pop. Stuff like Blackpink. Wherein you can’t discern if the climax of the song lies in the hook or the riff. I found that interesting, thus can the climax of ‘curved edge’ be found in the riff. Enough that the hook is the riff itself. When I told the members, their reaction was positive as well.

-It fits the modern Hitorie. In a previous interview Yumao (drummer), when looking back on Hitorie’s history, had mentioned that Hitorie could write music without a peep, after so many years together. Following this change to your writing formula, is that feat still possible, have your exchanges with your bandmates changed as well?

-When it comes to my written pieces, well... It depends on the song. For ‘curved edge’, ygarshy and I didn’t share a word. While we were making the demo song, I asked him to ‘Just play bass that works with this’, and with that little information he actually pulled off something incredible. I was like ‘Holy shit’ (laughs).

-The first verse alone is a stroke of talent (laughs). How about the drums?

The beat is unlike anything Yumao had played for Hitorie before. 4/4 beats were always our go-to, but we tried to venture a little into unknown territory. So I handled the  director job quite a bit, the drums may be the aspect I directed the most actually. It turns out that my concept of beat is completely different from wowaka’s.

-What do you mean exactly?

-I’m probably not... as much as wowaka.. No wait. I can’t say this for sure but, he was someone who was creative with his beats, so he tended to conjure up ones that would be virtually unplayable in context. I make up beats that are out of control sometimes too but. I stick to the rules, or, how to put it... Even when I make up a brand new beat, the voice in the back of my head will tell me ‘Wait, there’s rules’.

-I see. So wowaka wouldn’t bother with the rules much.

I haven’t put much deep thought into wowaka’s perception of beats until now though, this is only a quick assessment from my experiences. Though near the end, it seemed like his mindset changed to ‘It’s better if I let Yumao play however he desires’. Imyself haven’t reached that level yet.

“I need my love for guitar to grow even more, I say.“

-Allow me to ask you about the guitar solos. In the songs ‘Marshall A’ and ‘dirty’ are the solos in abundance and in the spotlight. What do you deem as good and bad in terms of guitar solos?

For me there’s only two types of guitar solos. You either play well, or you don’t (laughs).

-That’s a strict guideline (laughs). How do discern between the two?

It ultimately depends on the song. I like solos that are played “poorly”, such as by Momo Kazuhiro of MO’SOME TONEBENDER. I think their’s are awesome. When each and every note of a solo is poignant, it actually brings out the charm of electric guitar. So I think that solos can be wonky as hell, or precise as hell. Or in the middle is okay too. I like solos that are catchy with proper phrases to them even. Like HI-STANDARD’s ‘Fighting Fists, Angry Soul’, the solo could be a song on its own. It depends on what fits with the song. In regards to the solos of Marshall A, they fall into......

-The ‘Played well and proper’ solos.

That’s it. The song kicks off with unsteady distorted notes, but the solos are clean, it’s gap moe.

-The tone is clean as well. Did you intend for it to be gap moe?

To a degree. Like, 'is this really that kinda song' (laughs). On the other hand, when it came to 'dirty' the song has always been nothing but alternative rock style since the get-go.

-The solos are full of grunge and fuzz after all. ygarshy wrote that song, correct.

'Cause ygarshy and I are the same age from the same generation, our ideas match up as well.... For this song, it was like the Nishikawa Susumu idea- (laughs).

-I see (laughs). Back to what you said earlier, that your "optimization was lacking". How would you like to evolve as a guitarist?

I don't think I'm Hitorie's guitarist anymore. In the current world I'm in I'm not just a guitarist, I'm a singer-song writer, and that's become my primary focus. Yet despite that guitar is still absolutely a must for me. It brings the physical world and the world of music together better than anything. Thinking about it, my approach towards guitar is probably going to evolve after this as well. Up until I've played as Hitorie's guitarist, adding and adding to the sum of Hitorie's parts  (laughs). My attention was always on how to optimize to hell. Going forward my attention is probably going to shift when I play guitar. But that doesn't change the fact that guitar is essential for bands in general, and essential for Hitorie as well..... Aghh, I never thought about what it means to be a guitarist to me up until now (laughs).

-(Laughs).

I think my ideal guitarist self is still far away though. But I've grown a lot by being with my bandmates, and I can't be losing my eagerness to learn. I need my love for guitar to grow even more, I say (laughs). That's where I think I'm lacking. There's still so much about guitar I'm yet to understand, and that's my weak spot. There's a lot for me to reflect on.

Gear: Fender 1963 Jazzmaster The main guitar used in REAMP, a jazzmaster on borrow from wowaka. The serial number points to it being a 1963 issue. The saddle on the bridge has been swapped out to an Astro Notes. Shinoda selects the front for concerts/recordings, and doesn’t use preset switches. The guitar you can hear from the left channel in “High Gain” is this one. While the guitar you can from the right channel is a Tokai LP.

Fender 1965 Jaguar Also on borrow from wowaka, it was heavily used in Hitorie’s previous album ‘HOWLS’. For ‘REAMP’ it was used for the backing of ‘dirty’ and the main riff of ‘Utsutsu’. In regards to the Buzz Stop Bar, Shinoda himself prefers the musical range he can reach without it, but others oft react better when it’s on.

Pedal board: 1 WEED/GCB-95 mod wah 2 BOSS/TU-3W tuner 3 S-Distortion SASAKI 4 Prescription Electronics/Experience 5 Octave Fuzz & Swell 6 Keeley Electronics/Son of Fuzz Head 7 E.W.S./ Arion SCH-Z mod chorus 8 BOSS/PS-6 harmonizer 9 BOSS/DD-20 digital delay 10 Providence/Provolt 9 power supply

His guitar signal inputs at 1, then connects all the way to 8. He adores his 1 because there’s a gain knob on it, and as soon as he turns it on can he drive*. His main distortion pedal is number 3. His standard is to set  the volume knob at 12 o’ clock, the tone at 11, and the gain at 8. To give himself a boost in guitar solos he turns on pedal number 5, with the volume set to max. Pedal number 6 found its use in the song ‘(W)HERE’ on Hitorie’s album ‘Imaginary Monofiction’, but recently its fallen out of relevance for him. 7 was used in the song ‘Montage Girl’ on Hitorie’s ’Roomsick Girl’s Escape’, and harmonized phrases in general. He primarily uses 8 for the short delay, and it found usage in ‘curved edge’.

Amplifier: Hiwatt DR103 Custom 100 Marshall 1960 AV The number one weapon is volume. Shinoda’s main amp is this Hiwatt. The reason he started using it was because ’The only thing that could oppose the volume of wowaka’s Matchless amp was a Hiwatt’. The clean sound of it is what brings bass to Shinoda’s playing. For concerts that will be recorded, he sets the EQ bass, mid, and treble knobs all to 11 o’ clock. He sets the presence knob to about 13 o’ clock, but this gets adjusted every performance. This one stays the highest to ensure his music comes up front. He alters the high frequency and the level it pierces the ear with his pedals.  

[sandsofoneiros]

To Capture a Heart.

Chapter Two: Cianna Calling

Disclaimer: Had this ready Friday evening but since I was going to be gone all weekend, I decided to queue it up for you all! I hope you enjoy this chapter and I’m sorry if the first month seems a little boring. I wrote it last and it was a bit rushed. I hope you all are having a wonderful weekend and I can’t wait to be back on Monday! Also! Kylo’s betrothed is actually @thembohux oc!

Warning: Mentions of death, some anxious moments, slight cursing and two brats not knowing how to talk. Sparring match (i can’t write fight scenes. my bad)

Word count:  11139

Tagging: @thembohux and @booksmusicteaandanimals. 

The First Month. Age: 15

     Cianna was genuinely a beautiful kingdom. Hidden away by thick forest and magnificent trees. There were two ways to enter the kingdom, take a small boat down the river, or hike through the woodland. Normally, Poe would have preferred the trek through the forest, but this time the boats looked to be more relaxing. Another summer was upon him, and he desperately wished to turn the little boat around to go home. Things had changed this year, and he wasn’t handling them so well. The biggest change was Ben or Kylo. It was just a name change to help him come more into his role as future King of Naboo. He preferred a stronger name. Kylo had grown more, and it wasn’t only physically. He was constantly telling Poe about what he would change about Naboo to make it better. How he and Lita were going to improve so many things. Poe tried to follow along when his friend talked, but he grew bored after a few minutes. He was fifteen and his head wasn’t in the mindset to run a kingdom. It was always elsewhere. Daydreaming about daring sword fights, on a ship that was sailing through perilous waters, and so many other things.

  The tips of his fingers skimmed across the top of the water as they made their way through the river. It was cool to the touch, and he followed the ripples travel through the water. He speculated about how this summer was going to go and how Ro would be. He wondered if she had received another braid. That had been one of things that he had found himself curious about each year. Her hair. It was something that he looked at each time they got to see each other. Poe recalled her having seven braids last summer. She had shared the tales about each of the new ones that she had gotten. However, this summer and from this point on, was going to be different. They had chaperones this time. Their parents had insisted on it because of their age. It was a dumb rule in Poe’s opinion, and he had argued that they didn’t do that in Naboo. That had been the moment that Kylo wanted to punch his friend.

    “Not too much longer, Poe.” Kes called back to him. Kes had given Poe his own boat. They hadn’t been on the best of terms throughout the year. Much more arguing and Kes trying his hardest to push Poe on the right path. The young prince had taken to going down into the city and meeting with not so wholesome people. He would hang onto every word of their tales and would often try to sneak away with them. One guard who was patrolling the city would grab Poe before he got too far. Kes and Poe had fallen into a routine from all of it. They would fight, Poe would sneak out, and Kes would punish him. It was always the same story. Allowing Poe to go to Naboo for a few weeks had helped some, but when Poe returned, they instantly put him in a sour mood. He would avoid his father and would go spar. Trying to get some of his anger out. There had been nights where Kes had found Poe curled up under the portrait of Shara. Those had been the nights that Kes prayed for answers and got met with none. 

    Silence remained between them before they reached the dock. It was at the base of the mountain that was surrounded by a few waterfalls. Mist blanketing the kingdom of Cianna. They had built the castle into the mountain while the town was below it. The walk was going to be the longest part, but the view was always remarkable. He enjoyed hearing the rushing water as they crossed over the bridge. It was unusual to only see Thalia and Queen Eirlys. Usually, the entire family was there to meet them. 

    “Poe!” 

    “Thalia!”

    Thalia was already rushing to embrace him, and he hugged her tightly. Their friendship had surprised everyone and occasionally they pulled little pranks with the help of Ro being their look out. He saw her as a little sister, and he knew it made Ro happy to include her in their games. They hugged for a little longer before he pulled back from the hug. Eirlys and Kes were catching up with each other.

    “Where’s Ro? She’s usually here to greet us.” Poe looked around for the older Citlali daughter and frowned when he couldn’t find her. King Jaqen was also absent as well.

    “Her and dad are having a sparring lesson. Would you like to watch?” 

    He had only seen Ro spar a few times over the last years, and her form was always different. She had told him that both of her parents had taught the girls their styles of fighting. Jaqen and Eirlys seemed like opposites, and it made sense for their styles to be the same as well. Eagerly Poe nodded and grabbed Kylo’s arm to drag him along to the castle. He was a little excited to see Ro again but he wasn’t going to let anyone know that.

    “Again, Aurora.” 

    Jaqen’s tone was calm as he circled the room, examining his daughter and sparring partner. Both of them were slightly panting as they got back into the fighting stances. The taller male had more braids than the princess, but she didn’t let that stop her. It didn’t trouble her. Without breaking eye contact, Ro dropped to the floor and swept her leg out to hook around her partner’s. It seemed to work better this time, and her opponent fell onto his back before he could recover. She had him pinned. A practice dagger held to his throat. Her chest heaving as she grinned down at the boy. A cheer erupted in the quiet room, followed by multiple hand claps from her little sister and her company. The company that Ro had actually forgotten about. 

    “Poe!” 

    She whispered excitedly before tossing the dagger to the side and moving off her opponent, turning her back to him. That had been a mistake, given that Ignis had returned the favor to trip her. It wasn’t long before Ro fell on to her hands to break her fall and scowled back at him and then to her father. 

    “Never turn your back on your opponent, Ro. Too easy. Lesson is over for the day. Prince Poe, Prince Kylo. It’s good to see you.” Jaqen bowed his head to the young princes as he helped Ro to her feet. Checking her over for any injuries before fixing a piece of her hair that had loosened during the match. However, Poe was curious about sparring next. He hadn’t gotten the chance before. 

    Ro batted at her father’s hands before looking for Poe. The prince was looking at the practice weapons. His fingers curling around the spear before he took it off the rack and spun around. Ignis rolled his eyes at the prince while he dusted himself off. He wasn’t overly excited about Poe and Kylo being here. Recently Ro hadn’t stopped talking about the Yavin prince. It drove him mad, given that the other didn’t even give her the time of day.

    “Could I spar next, your highness?” 

    “I don’t see why not? Choose an opponent. Not Thalia considering she hasn’t been at her lessons.” Jaqen responded without even looking back at his younger daughter, who had been avoiding her sparring lessons for the week. Thalia merely stuck her tongue out.

    “Could I pick Ro?” 

    The question caught them all off guard, but Jaqen nodded his head. Kylo and Thalia were quietly taking bets on who would win. Poe was one of Yavin’s finest fighters and he took pride knowing that. Plus, not everybody has the chance to have a sparring match with their future spouse. 

    “Of course. Ignis, please move to the side.” Jaqen spoke as Ignis went to stand beside the king. Ro reached for the other spear and smirked at her opponent. She had only gotten to watch Poe fight against others and this was her chance to show off. The spear wasn’t her favorite to use, but she was competent with it. Poe was much like a serpent when he fought. His strike never missed its target, usually. They circled around each other. Each step planned. 

    “I won’t go easy on you, little princess.” Poe teased before performing spin that forced him a step closer. 

    “I wouldn’t assume so, prince perfect.” Ro attempted a strike to his middle, that he stopped quickly before sliding back a little. That little spark seemed to set everything in motion. They flowed like dancers even though their dances were different. Strike for strike. Determination shining brilliantly in their eyes. The others observed them in fascination. Both of them were well matched. Poe’s skills impressed Ignis. He kept Ro on her toes. It wasn’t often that she got challenged. The sound of the wood hitting together was filling the chamber, along with their grunts. Their knuckles paling as they tightened their clutches on the weapons. It wasn’t until Poe lost his footing that Ro seized her opportunity and swept his leg out from under him. Kicking his spear out of reach, she put the point of hers at his collar. 

    “Wow.” He peered up at her, not daring to move. His eyes roaming up her form and feeling his face burned. That had to be from the sparring match. However, he couldn’t stop noticing how strong she looked. How fierce. That fire that flickered in her eyes that made him gulp. He hadn’t seen her like this before, and it required him to do a double take when she reached her hand out to him. 

    “That was a brilliant match.” She grinned before helping him up. Their hands stayed conjoined for a moment before he gently drew his back. Jaqen clasped his daughter on the shoulder. While Thalia handed over a few coins to a smirking Kylo. It slightly hurt Poe that his best friend had wager against him but he figured they would share those coins later. Ignis had wrapped his arm around Ro’s shoulder, not caring about Poe’s existence at all. 

    “We’ve taught her well, your grace.” Ignis spoke as he ruffled Ro’s hair. Poe’s eyes narrowed at the gesture. Why was he touching her in such a friendly manner? Why did Poe care? Either way, he often wondered where he stood with Ignis recently. He never wanted to hang out with Kylo and Poe anymore. He preferred to be with Ro. It had been strange, and Kylo had implied that maybe he liked Ro, but Poe didn’t think that. Last summer they had butted heads more than he and Ro ever had. It was odd. 

    “I think the king trained her better than you, Iggy. She had you on the ground in less than a minute.” Poe teased before setting the practice spears back on the rack. Ignis growled at the nickname that the prince had given him upon their initial meeting. It had certainly lost its charm over the years, and Poe used it to annoy the guard in training. He had been training to be a part of the Royal Guard since Poe could remember. Ignis was taller than him, with long blond hair that followed the Cianna tradition of braids. He received his guard training. Despite Ignis receiving more braids than Ro, Poe thought hers were beautiful. She and Jaqen shared the same burgundy locks, and it was no mystery that Jaqen did all of his family’s hair. None of their braids were ever the same. Ro kept hers half up and down. He enjoyed the styles she wore her hair. 

    “Gentlemen, let’s not start that. However, I am having a scouting trip later this month. I was thinking Kylo, your father, and yourself might like to accompany us. It’s just to check the perimeter of our borders. What do you say? Of course, Ignis and a few other guards will join us.” Jaqen spoke. The scouting trip was mostly the men going out into the woodlands for a few nights just to camp and drink around the campfire. The older men would exchange stories, while some of the young lads would get their first sip of alcohol. 

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x 

    “Gonna miss me while I’m away, Sweet Aurora?” Poe teased as he peered over the book that Ro was attempting to read. Her emerald hues peering up at him for a minute while her brow lifted. The princess was looking forward to getting some peace and quiet around the castle. Ever since Poe had arrived, Ro had been wrestling with new feelings that had arrived when he had. She wasn’t sure what was happening with her, and she wished it would stop. However, she couldn’t stop the blush when he called her some nickname, even if it was ridiculous. Ro had planned to speak with Thalia about this, once the men were all gone for the scouting trip.

    “I fear I have missed the silence more than I could ever miss you, Dameron.” She turned a page in her book before leaning back in her seat as Poe crossed his arms over his chest. They were waiting for her father to give the word that it was time to go. The horses were all ready, and everyone packed. Ro figured her parents were sharing a private goodbye. Not that she didn’t enjoy the extra time with Poe. 

    Sitting in the seat in front of hers, Poe lay one leg over the arm of the seat while the other stretched out a little in front of him. A hand running through his curls as he yawned. Poe had been wearing his robes differently. Some men in Yavin had gone without their undershirt. The robe revealing their chest to all. Poe had taken up that look for the summer. Ro thanked the maker that he couldn’t see her cheeks at the moment. Her eyes trailing up and down his body before she heard Ignis clear his throat and take her book from her. Fingers struggling to grasp it and pull it back to shield the rosy shade of red her face has turned into. 

    “Not going to say goodbye?” 

    “Don’t waste your breath, Iggy. She wants her peace.” 

    Ignis rolled his eyes before the sight of her dad coming down the stairs made her sit up and go to him. It was finally time for all the men to leave and enjoy their trip. The goodbyes didn’t take too long and they watched the men leave on horseback shortly after. 

    Later that night, Thalia sat on Aurora’s bed, running a comb through her sister’s hair. Ro had been struggling to find a way to bring up her feelings for Poe. It was certainly harder than she imagined. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and picked at a loose string on her nightgown. It was now or never. 

    “Thalia, I need to tell you something. Something that I’m a little surprised that I’m admitting.” 

  Thalia hummed as she placed the comb on the nightstand and waited for her sister to speak. Watching as Ro turned around to face her, the younger Citlali reached for her sister’s trembling hands to steady her. Taking a deep breath, she rounded up all of her courage and spoke so rapidly that Thalia didn’t understand a word that she spoke. 

    “Ro, slow down. I didn’t hear any of that.” 

    “I realize I have feelings for Poe. I see him so differently now. He’s still a conceited prince but I’m seeing so much more?” 

    Thalia smirked at her sister’s confession before squeezing her hands. Thalia was the first to discover how her sister looked at Poe differently. It had been small at first, but as the month passed, Thalia finally had caught on, and now it seemed her sister had as well. Now, the youngest, Citlali wondered about the prince’s feelings.

    That was going to be Thalia’s mission for the rest of the summer. Figure out if Poe felt the same for her sister. Poe was harder to read than her sister, and that gave her a fun challenge.

    They spent the rest of the night with Ro, telling Thalia all the little details about Poe that she had recently noticed and what she liked about him. Both of the girls were unaware of their mother listening outside the door. A smile on her face about her oldest daughter’s discovery. She would have much to tell their father when he returned from his trip, and she hoped he had news for her. 

The second month. 

    “I wish she wouldn’t spend so much time with him. He’s constantly flirting with her.” Poe spoke before placing a card on the table. His gaze never leaving the sight of Ro and Ignis. Ignis had been a constant since he had come to Cianna and they had gotten along when they were younger, but now that they were older, it was very different. Ignis was training to be one of the royal family’s personal guards. He had already claimed that he was Ro’s personal guard. Something that caused Poe to clench his jaw. He could protect her. Poe was one of the most skilled soldiers in all of Yavin. It was going to be his duty to protect her one day. She wouldn’t require Ignis. Kylo raised an eyebrow as he watched Poe’s gaze and shook his head. Poe was jealous.

    “I think you really sort of like her, fess up.” Kylo snorted before lying down his hand of cards, indicating to Poe that he had won once again. Tossing his cards to the middle to be shuffled again, he saw Ro turned to leave with Ignis. Not again. Ignis had been dragging her away from them all morning. 

    “I like her better if she would stop wasting time with him. Hey, Ro! Kylo and I are having a rousing card game, want us to deal you in?” Poe called out to her with a grin. He missed the way her eyes lit up at the question. Instead, he was scowling at Ignis, who was frowning right back.

    “The princess and I are going down to the lake.” Ignis smirked. He was a year older than them. He even had more braids than Ro. Although, Ro always wore her braids in such beautiful ways. No one else could rival that. However, he had one singular braid that was resting over his shoulder. His arms crossed as he just stared at the prince. The friendship that Poe once thought he had with Ignis was gone. He should have acknowledged the decline over the years, but this summer had been the worst. The Yavin prince didn’t like that he had answered for her. Ro wasn’t one to let someone speak for her. He had picked up on that over the years, and it turned into a trait that he liked about her.

    “Poe, you and Kylo could accompany us, if you wish. It’s a nice day to get out of the castle.” Ro gnawed at her cheek as she worked to include them all. She preferred to spend more time with Poe and was stunned when he offered for her to play cards with them. Normally, they spend some together before going their own ways. However, this summer and the previous summer, Ro and Poe had chaperones. They hadn't been allowed to be truly alone, and anyone could guess why. Kylo was often Poe’s chaperone, while Ignis or Thalia were Ro’s. It had become annoying rather quickly.

    “What do you say, Kylo? Wanna enjoy some sunshine?” Poe gave Kylo a look. A look that told him he had no say in the matter. Groaning, he ran a hand down his face before putting on a smile. A smile that Poe knew meant that he wasn’t delighted about this. 

    “Sure, why not?” Kylo shrugged before pushing away from the table and stretching his arms above his head. Kylo didn’t care for Ignis, but he was taking notice of the teenager’s shifty way. He had caught him lurking around Ro’s room and her parents’ room once, insisting it was on his rounds as a guard in training. That never rested well with Kylo, and he hadn’t mentioned it to Poe yet. He didn’t see any reason to yet, but it wasn’t something that he was just going to forget. 

    “Wonderful.” Ignis rolled his eyes before he went to offer his arm to Aurora, but paused when Poe had already seized the chance. Poe murmured something in her ear that made her to laugh and lightly pinched his arm. It was no mystery Poe Dameron did not impress Ignis. He had attempted to be friends with the prince when he first showed up all those years ago, but he never thoroughly wanted a friendship. It wasn’t any secret how Ignis felt for the princess. Anyone with eyes could see that he cared deeply for her, and within the last two years it had turned to more. Poe didn’t deserve Ro. He had observed the prince teasing her and watched as he tried to avoid the poor girl for so many years. It was until the last two summers that something had changed. Poe was actually trying more. That wasn’t what bother Ignis. No, what irritated him was noticing how Ro was acting around the prince. She would smile more, her cheeks would turn pink at something he might say to her, and she wanted to invite him to everything.

    “Couldn’t let the princess go somewhere without her charming prince.” Poe grinned before tucking a strand of Ro’s hair behind her ear. This was entirely to annoy Ignis. However, he wouldn’t lie if asked him about how much he liked Ro’s hair. He always took whatever chance he could to touch it. Ever since he was younger, it had fascinated him. How she styled it each morning, how many braids she earned, the care she put into it. Today’s style was much simpler than what he was used to seeing. Four strands of her hair had been braided back to join together and went into a single braid down her back. It was strange to think that one day he would see her without her braids in the privacy of their own chambers. That there would come a time when he would undo each braid and have his fingers run through her hair. Heat spread to his cheeks and up his neck at the mere thought of it. He hadn’t expected such a reaction at the thought of her hair down. That was unusual. 

    “Poe? Are you alright?” Ro squeezed his arm to get his attention. Her face revealed concern, and when he glanced around, he noted the others were waiting on him. He had practically forgotten about going to the lake with them. Nodding, he placed his hand over hers and led them out of the castle.

    The path to the lake wasn’t very long, and the shade from the trees protected them from the sun’s rays. There was a silence between them that no one will break. Poe wasn’t certain he needed to hear Ignis say anything. He often preferred the other to be silent as long as possible. The clearing for the lake was approaching, and Poe realized that this might not have been the best idea. He didn’t think swimming would be fun after they walked back to the palace in soggy garments. There was another option, but Aurora was here, and he knew that went against their rules. Suddenly a thought struck him, and he practically growled. Had Ignis wished to bring her for some other purpose? It wasn’t sitting well with him. It didn’t matter that Ro was his betrothed.

    “Are we going swimming?” Poe asked, watching as Ro sat down and untied her boots. Praying to the maker that she wouldn’t go any further than that. He would have to leave, and he wasn’t certain if he could leave her with Ignis. 

    “No, I don’t want to ruin my boots. We’re searching for stones, mostly.” She grinned before rolling up her trousers. Kylo looked over at Poe after hearing why Ignis and Ro were coming to the lake. “You’re welcome to go back. I don’t want to trouble you.”

   “No. I want to spend time with you.” 

    All went silent when the words escaped Poe’s lips. His own remarks took him by surprise. There wasn’t anything wrong with spending time with her. However, he had always put up a fight any other time. He told himself that this was to keep Ignis from doing anything bad.  

    “How many years have you had to spend time with her, Dameron?” Ignis snorted while he followed Ro into the water that stopped at their ankles. He settled his hand on her lower back to steady her as they wandered through the water. “Careful Poe, there are tales of a water dragon that devours bratty children. I’m positive it would devastate your father if something happened.”

    Poe’s fingers were in a tight fist as he stared at the two. No one had ever called him spoiled, at least not to his face. He had been the sole child of the King and Queen of Yavin. His mother had passed before they could continue their family. He had missed her more and more in recent months, but hadn’t shared that with anybody. His father and he had argued more. Kes had grown distant, like before, when Poe asked about the adventures that his parents went on together. Poe was also desperate to leave Yavin. To see more than their kingdom and the ones that he visited.

    Kylo had taken notice of Poe’s expression before he stepped in. Poe was doing his best not to lose his temper, but he was cracking. “Ignis, watch yourself. The dragon might confuse you for a prince because of how mighty you speak.” 

    Poe chuckled before stretching out his fingers from the tight fists that they had been in. His arms crossed over his chest as he puffed it out. Two could play it this way, and he just so had the Prince of Naboo on his side.

    “All three of you should be quieter, otherwise the dragon is going to devour all three of you.” All eyes glanced at the princess who was carrying a few rocks in her tunic. She had created a pouch to carry the stones as she continued on gathering them. “After the dragon has had its lunches, I would recognize it as a hero for saving me from three boys who are constantly squabbling.” 

    The smirk she wore made Poe smile. He was used to her remarks, and after sliding his own boots off, he moved to accompany her. His own hands scouting through the murky water to find some stones. They scoured the water together and would periodically steal glances at each other before their hands bumped together in the water. They had both reached for the same stone, and it caused them to giggle softly at each other. Gently, Poe threaded their fingers and settled the stone in the middle of their hands.

    “We can share this one.” 

    “I love that idea.” 

    They hadn’t looked at the stone, but they happily nestled it in their palms. Ro’s didn’t care about the rest of the rocks that were in her makeshift pouch. They hadn’t usually held hands like this, and it caused her to blush slightly. Poe could be affectionate, but she feared it was just for show. There was any reason to believe it was more than that. Appearance kept their parents and everybody around them pleased. That’s what they had accomplished over the years. Make everybody else happy.

    Ro wasn’t certain when her feelings changed for the prince. She had noticed how individuals were just drawn to him; he was pleasant to talk with. His laugh was contagious. It caused her heart to flutter when he would wink at her or hold her hand first. The small actions had led to her falling more each time. However, she realized Poe didn’t return those feelings. They would be married in law, but never by love. The love would be one sided, and Ro dreaded it. She was falling for him, but he was falling for adventure and freedom. He yearned for it. It had never been a secret, and it grew each year. It never passed, and she couldn’t drown the flames. She would never wish to. Ro simply longed to be a part of his world.

    “Aurora, you’re certainly quiet over there. Something wrong?” The squeeze to her hand drew her from her worries. It caught her off guard when he spoke her full name. It always grounded her. Brought her back from whatever had tried to take her away. 

    “Mhm. I’m just curious about the stone we found.” 

    It was a lie, but what else could she say? Was she supposed to confess her feelings for him while they scouted for stones? He wouldn’t believe her, even if she did. The result didn’t seem to be worth it. The lie was easier.

    “I wager it’s the loveliest stone.” 

    There was his radiant smile again. It could practically rival the sun with its warmth and brilliance. A good deal of people called her lucky and undeserving of such an arrangement, but they didn’t see the truth. 

    “Lovely like you, curls.”

    “One of us has to be the lovely one.” 

    “Hey, it’s time to leave lovebirds! Supper is going to be served shortly.” 

    Both of their heads popped up before they glanced down at their hands. Ro being the first to pull her away and pushing the stone into his palm as she started towards the shore. She would not bother about wearing her boot back through the woods. She didn’t mind her feet becoming dirty. Poe followed as she stepped through the water and exhaled. Finally, he looked down at the smooth stone in his hand. It was strange that there was a hole in the rock and he had never seen something like that before. The design gave him an idea.

 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x 

    Later that night, Kylo had roamed the halls once more. Sleep had fled him, and he didn’t need to disturb Poe either, given how the prince and Ignis had seized every chance to provoke the other. He needed some peace for the rest of the night. Although Kylo had another reason for choosing to be out later than usual. He could stumble upon something like before, and he might not. He would be prepared this time. As time passed, Kylo heard faint murmurs coming from the end of the hall. One sounded as if it was pleading, and the other seemed more peeved than anything else. Quietly he approached the owners of the muffled murmurs, hiding behind one of the pillars, Kylo peeked around. It was Ignis and King Jaqen. 

    “Your highness, please. I am urging you. Let me be Aurora’s betrothed! The Prince of Yavin doesn’t want her! It is an awful match!” Ignis pleaded, and his tone was growing with each word. 

    “Keep your voice down. I understand you have concerns for my daughter, but Poe is her intended. He is a young man who yearns for more like some men do. I thought the same before I wed the Queen. Time will help.” Jaqen kept his voice steady, despite how frustrated he really was.

    “Time? He is fifteen and acts like a spoiled prince! He can never make her happy! She will be alone if she marries him!” 

    “Ignis Malka! You dare raise your voice to your king? You dare tell me about my daughter’s happiness? I am her father. Do not tell me what makes her happy. I have watched her grow and learn. Taught her all that I know.”

    The discussion was getting heating, and Kylo was becoming more anxious by the second. Ignis wanted to marry Ro, and he was struggling to get Jaqen on his side. He wanted Jaqen to call off their arrangement. He had to tell Poe. He kept himself pressed to the pillar to listen more.

    “Your highness, he will only hurt her. He does each day and you are confining your daughter to a wretched life where she is alone and will die young. Let me take care of her and give her the life she deserves. I ask you.” 

    “Enough! I will not hear such comments about my daughter’s betrothed and her future. Back to your post Ignis. Do not let me hear you speaking like this again. We will change your guard assignment in the morning.”

    Ignis said nothing else as Jaqen spun around to leave. Kylo didn’t dare move from his spot until he heard Ignis depart. The only thought that he had was to go to Poe’s room. This couldn’t wait until the morning. This knowledge could lead to trouble, and Poe had a right to know. The sound of diminishing footsteps gave Kylo the chance to start towards his destination. The halls seemed longer and never ending, despite the brisk pace that Kylo had. He skidded to a stop upon seeing Poe’s door and didn’t bother to knock as he burst into the room. The yell that Poe let out made Kylo slam the door close before he spoke.

    “Stars, Kylo! Knock first!” He had shoved something under the blankets, hoping that Kylo wouldn’t notice. He had already noted it.

    “As if you’re busy! We need to talk. This is serious.” Kylo crossed the room and closed the window, just in case. He wasn’t depending on anything at this point. Poe had shuffled up to brace up against the engraved headboard and waited for Kylo to speak.

    “I heard Ignis talking to Jaqen. This is truly wrong, Poe,” Kylo was reluctant to tell him. The taller prince was concerned that Poe would use this to get out of the merger. Kylo felt that deep down Poe cared for Ro. “Ignis wants Jaqen to end the arrangement between you and Ro. He demands to wed her instead. Poe, he thinks you’re going to make her miserable and she’ll die of heartache. Jaqen wasn’t happy by any of it but this bothers me.”

    Poe observed his friend while he told him what he found out in the halls just minutes earlier. Something deep inside him was boiling and traveling through him. He might not be ready to wed Ro, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t his friend. He would not say that he might never fall in love with her. It could happen. The idea of Ignis thinking all these cruel ideas about him made his belly twist into tense knots. The lies he whispered about Poe. He was doing his best! He was still young and trying to understand himself. This wasn’t helping.

    “What if he tries something, Poe? You didn’t hear the bitterness in his voice. The king kept having to tell him to calm down.” 

    “He wouldn’t hurt Ro. He’s not that stupid, Kylo. He’ll just make some sarcastic remark about me at every chance that he gets.” Poe sat with his legs crossed under him and ran a hand through his curls. This wasn’t something that he had thought would happen. Ignis had normally been silent with his dislike of the arrangement. However, part of him feared Ignis had shared those words with Ro. What if Ro thought the same as Ignis but was too scared to say anything? “I need to tell Ro. I can’t keep this from her.”

    “Will she believe you? Ignis is her best friend, and this isn’t easy to hear.” 

    “It’s not, but she needs to know. What if he’s already told her and convinced her it’s true?” 

    That worry was picking away at him. He didn’t want Ro to think he would ever do that to her. It hurt to think that maybe she believed it. So many concerns were flowing through his mind, and all of them involved her. This was a chance for him to look at out of this, to explain to their parents that Ro deserved to be with Ignis. A joyful union and he would be free. He could leave Yavin and experience the world. This was the perfect chance. Yet the image of Ro being with Ignis upset him slightly. Ignis being the one to see her with her hair down and undone, his fingers working through, and so much more. That thought made his blood boil. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t like that thought. 

    “Kylo, I need to ask you a favor. This is important.” 

    “Well, you get one favor a year so make it good.” 

    “I need to speak with Ro alone about this. Is there any way you can keep him distracted?” 

    “It’s never easy with you, Poe. I’ll see what I can do but you need to make sure that if something goes wrong that she’s not in sight.” 

    “Of course. Thank you for all of this, my friend.” 

    Kylo rolled his eyes before grinning just a little. He would do his best to support Poe. He didn’t wish to waste the day with Ignis while Poe met with Ro, but Ignis had overstepped a boundary. Kylo wasn’t certain what would take place when the two discussed the events, but it was better than Ignis planning something much worse. His gut told him that this was simply the beginning, but he wished he was mistaken. Even if Poe was struggling with accepting the merger, he had been doing better with it all. He treated Ro like a friend now and hardly got upset with her. They had both come a long way since all those years ago. 

    “Kylo? Do you think she might be happier with Ignis? What if this is a chance for her and I to live the lives we want?”

    Kylo glared at his friend’s comments. He knew Poe would consider it a chance to escape, and he just shook his head. 

    “Either way, you need to talk to her. Choose together, not just deciding for her. She deserves to speak as well. She has a voice, and it’s pretty annoying that you and Ignis want to keep speaking for her.” 

    “I just -”

    “You’re looking for your way out. You’re being selfish.” 

    “You don’t understand!” 

    “I understand that you’re more concerned about your own feelings than hers. I’ll make sure Ignis is busy tomorrow but I swear Poe if you waste this chance then don’t count on me for anything else.”

    With that, Kylo left the room. Poe’s head slumped back against the headboard as he exhaled. His hands reached out to grasp what he had been covering from Kylo. His thumb stroked the flat stone, and he thought of how he had planned on giving it to Ro. A gift for her. He had used cords of leather to make it into a necklace. The stone had a perfect hole for him to knot the cord, and he made sure it wouldn’t come loose when Ro wore it. That was if she even liked it or wanted it after they talked. Poe wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. He felt torn between continuing in this routine with Ro or having his own life. It was all so confusing. His fingers continued to stroke the stone, wishing that it would give him an answer. Nothing ever came.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

    The next morning came and a half asleep Ro sat at her mirror as her father arranged her hair for the day. Her eyes opened when he tightened a section of the braid. She was used to her father braiding her hair for the day, but she detested the early morning. A yawn left her lips as she heard her father chuckle quietly. 

    “You have never been one for mornings, sunbeam.” 

    “Shouldn’t we decide what time we wake up? We are the noble family.” 

    “You had an extra five minutes this morning. Was that not enough?” 

    She shook her head as she rubbed the remains of sleep out of her eyes. Her hair fell in burgundy waves as her father pulled the rest up. Those braids starting at the sides of her head and moving back to coil around in a bun at the crown of her head. Some strands were left down to frame her face. Her fingers fumbled with ends of her hair. A habit she had gotten when she got nervous. The king lifted a brow as he watched her before adding the finishing touches to her hair. 

    “Something on your mind? Quit fumbling with your hair. . .” 

    “I just want to make sure it looks good.” 

    Jaqen lifted an eyebrow. He never doubted his techniques or skill with fixing their hair. It wasn’t like Ro to care how her hair was prepared for the day. She normally was happy with whatever her father did. He had even set out her clothes for the day as well, despite her preferring to do it herself. It made him wonder if she was doing all this to catch the prince’s eye. The exchange with Ignis from the previous night hovering in the back of his mind. 

    “Little star, if you’re worried about not catching the young prince’s eye, I assure you his eyes follow you.” 

    Ro couldn’t help but grin before she shifted around to hug her father tight. Her father wasn’t always one to talk about the arrangement, provided he was protective of his girls. It always troubled him they could do something that would fail later in life. His marriage was arranged, but Eirlys had been ready to put him in his place. They had learned and grew together. He cherishes his wife and their daughters. He simply wished the same would happen for Ro, but he was having doubts. Poe was still clinging to the dream of adventure, and he recalled that feeling. He still observed how the prince watched over Ro. The boy was conflicted more each day.

    The sudden knock on Ro’s door caused both of them to jump. Jaqen had crossed the room in long strides and opened the door to speak with the visitor. It was the guards, and neither of them looked pleased. They were a little out of breath from their trip to the princess’s room, but this couldn’t wait. 

    “Your highness! We require you immediately! The Prince of Naboo and Ignis are fighting in the courtyard.” 

    “Fighting? Pull them apart. Have you gotten King Kes to collect young Kylo?” 

    They shook their heads before he sighed. How difficult could it be to divide the two? He figured they didn’t wish to upset Kes when it came to Kylo. 

    “Go get Kes, and meet me at the courtyard. Aurora, stay here until this is all fixed.” 

   “But!” 

    “Aurora, no. Let me deal with this.” 

    Ro watched as her father left her room before she finished getting ready. Slipping a silk dress over her trousers before she sat down on her bed. This wasn’t fair! She wasn’t even near the courtyard, and she doubted that Ignis and Kylo would even care if she were there. She still couldn’t fathom why the two would fight? Where was Poe? If Ignis was going to hit anyone, then she figured it would be Poe. The summer breeze filled the room before she heard what sounded like an injured creature. Heading to her balcony, she placed her hands on the rail and studied the ground below. A pair of hands reached out to shake her shoulders as she looked for the creature. The sudden touch caused her to scream before they swung her around. Glaring at the laughing face of none other than Poe Dameron. 

    “Poe! What the hell? You’re not supposed to be here!” She hissed softly before she shoved him into her room. Looking over their shoulders to make sure that no one had seen or heard them. This was extremely risky. 

    “I know, I know! I needed to talk to you. This is important.” 

    They sat on the end of the bed as Poe explained what Kylo had told him. Ro couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and part of her realized it was all true. Everyone had told her how Ignis looked at her and how he never cared for the advances of the other girls. Her fingers fidgeted, and she chewed the inside of her cheek. How long had her father been hearing Ignis say such things? Did her mother know about this? Why had no one came to her and told her? Ignis was constantly around her until now, when her father had finally changed his post. She hadn’t even known that until Poe told her. 

    “This could be our chance, Ro.” 

    Their chance? What did Poe mean? What did Ignis admit his feelings have to do with them? 

    “Our chance? Poe, I don’t see Ignis like that. I don’t want to marry him.” Frowning, she crossed her arms, waiting for the Yavin prince to explain himself. 

    “I just thought this could be a chance for us to get out of the marriage. We could lead our own lives!” 

    The smile he wore made her heart break. Poe didn’t want to marry her. He wanted to get out of it after all their years together. She struggled to hold back tears. Ro had always hoped that someday he would like her. That they would become more than friends. Yet any time growth created, something happened to where it was all crushed. 

    “Leave.” 

    “What? Ro? We need to talk about this.” 

    Poe went to grab her hands, and she drew them back before wiping at her eyes. 

    “I said leave! I will call for the guards.” 

    Her voice was small and Poe could only frown before he bit back his own feelings. They hadn’t even discussed everything, but he had made it clear what he wanted. Had that made her upset? He didn’t want to fight with her, and quietly made his way to the balcony. However, the sight of her sitting on the edge of her bed wiping at her eyes made him feel guilty. Everything told him that needed to fix this, but she was telling him to go. 

    “Your braids look beautiful today.” 

    The minute his back turned and made his escape, Ro let out a sob. Another drawback, and she felt more hopeless than ever. What would it take for this to work?

The third month. 

    The kingdom of Cianna was bustling as they arranged for the approaching Moonlight Festival. It was one of the grandest parties that the Citlali household had. The castle was open for all to come and celebrate with them, and it took place outdoors. The night sky would dance across the waterfalls and the tops of the mountains on this night. The stars didn’t look so far away, and they went across the sky towards the end of the celebration. It was a brilliant night for all. Ro had ventured to the village below the castle and was helping set up. Making sure that all the lanterns and lamps were ready. Blue and silver decorated the entire kingdom and allowed her a sense of tranquility. 

    The argument between her and Poe still brewed at the back of her mind at odd times. She had wanted this summer to be the one where something would blossom, but it hadn’t. Part of her knew that she should have known better, but the other held onto some hope. Against her better judgement, she hadn’t spoken to Ignis about any of it or her parents. She had gone two weeks before she had even said something to Poe. She had apologized to him at breakfast one morning and that was it. No one around them knew what she was apologizing for. She would have given them some story instead of the truth if they had asked. She just preferred to forget all of it and move on. They had spent little time together after that, either. They would go on walks with their chaperones or play a game of cards, but once again that was simply for show. Poe and Kylo had taken to training with the Citlali Royal Guards, while Ro worked with her mother on some sparring lessons. It had shifted into something more awkward.

    “Beautiful Aurora, you almost dropped the lantern.” Thalia snickered at her sister before she took it out of Ro’s hands. Her thoughts had taken over again, and she practically broke something. Not that it would have been the first time. 

    “Apologies, I was elsewhere.” She laughed before choosing to hang up another banner. That seemed to be safer than trying to work with the delicate lamps and lanterns. This festival that she had been looking forward to all summer, but now it seemed bittersweet. Poe and she would share their traditional dance, but she realized that his heart wouldn’t be in it. She would feel guilty with each step that they took. Ignis would try to steal a dance from her, she would deny as much as she could. It would not be the night that she had dreamt of. 

    “Poe said he would be down to help soon. I told him I would stay to be the chaperone if he showed up. I’m certain Kylo and Ignis don’t want to be social.” She smirked. Thalia would occasionally let the two of them have moments alone, and it was something that both of them enjoyed. Thalia hated to babysit, especially when she was younger than her sister. She trusted both of them not to do anything wrong. This had been a little secret between them, and not even their parents had picked up about it. Yet. Ro couldn’t help the slight flutter of excitement that she felt at the thought of Poe coming. She still got nervous around him, despite all of it. He still made her smile when she didn’t want to.

    “That’s perfect. I know he really enjoys this and you’ll actually have a helper.”

    Both the girls giggled before a pair of arms draped around their shoulders, revealing the prince. His laughter chiming in as they jumped from him and wiggled out of his reach. All laughing together as the bystanders gave them all knowing smiles.

    “You can’t keep startling us like that, Poe! The next time, I might have a weapon on me!” Ro whispered as she held her palm to her heart, simply for Poe to take the other hand and pressed a small kiss to her knuckles.

    “I am your weapon, my princess.”

    She blushed as she glanced around to see the people of Cianna observing them. Her fingers threaded through his as she sighed. It was merely for show. She should have recognized. He wouldn’t ordinarily do such things unless there was someone watching. Her heart sank as she fell back into giving the people a show. Appearances were everything, and right now this was just another performance. These moments always lasted longer than she wanted and left her exhausted. Ro fell for Poe’s performance more and preferred to keep it going despite it all. She wished she could combine both sides of Poe and have one. That was nothing but a childish dream. A dream that she couldn’t have. It tormented her. 

    “I love this festival, Ro. The lights, dancing, and getting to watch the stars pass across the night sky. It’s just so fascinating.”

    Poe grinned as he helped the girls with the last minute decorations. Ro nodded her head as she worked in silence. She didn’t trust herself to speak, but smiled instead. Thalia and Poe chatted away cheerfully with each other. If Thalia wasn’t the mirror image of their mother, many would assume that Poe and Thalia were siblings. They simply clicked when Poe came to visit Cianna. 

    “Thalia, do you mind if I stroll around with Ro for a moment? Not too long.” 

    “You have ten minutes before I notice that you’re both gone.” 

    They shared a sly grin before the prince took her hand and turned down the alley. Ro eagerly followed behind him and felt a small rush at the thought of them being alone. Her hand squeezed his before they came to a stop, both of them smiling. It was just a slight moment that they were going to have to themselves, and she wondered what it was going to be about. She pressed her back against the stone wall and waited for him to speak. 

    “Everything alright?” She asked, before messing with the ends of her hair. 

    “I wanted to give you something? A gift for the festival. Something to wear to it?” He sounded uncertain of himself and he continued glancing down the alley to make sure that no one came searching for them. Poe retrieved something out of the pocket of his trousers. He held out something wrapped in a dark piece of cloth and he placed it in her hand so quickly that she almost dropped it. Carefully, Ro removed the cloth and smiled seeing the necklace. It was certainly beautiful and unlike any necklace that she had ever seen. The stone was smooth and grey. 

    “Is this the stone from the lake?” 

    “Mhm! I used some cords of leather to make it into a necklace for you. Do - Do you like it?” He asked as he shifted on his feet. He waited as she ran her fingers over the stone. What if she didn’t like it?

    “Will you put it on me?” 

    Poe nodded enthusiastically as he reached for the necklace and stood as she turned around. She lifted her hair up and waited patiently as he knotted the necklace for her. He secured it before she turned back around. Her hands immediately touched the stone again before wrapping her arms around him tightly. She couldn’t believe the gift that he had given her and it was the most beautiful stone that she had ever seen. It was the stone that they found together. Drawing back from their embrace, Ro pressed a tender kiss to his cheek before Thalia cleared her throat to draw their attention. Time was cut short, and they had to get back to getting everything ready for the festival. 

    However, Poe couldn’t stop grinning from the kiss that he got. It wasn’t like Ro at all to do that. They held hands and hugged, but kissing never happened. It wasn’t a proper kiss, but it was more than he had gotten before. His heart pounding in his chest, and couldn’t believe how soft her lips were on his cheek. Nothing could make his mood drop after that. She had accepted his gift, too! Poe was soaring, and he didn’t want to come down. This left him wondering how the festival might go. What if they actually kissed that night? It would be the perfect chance for them. The internal conflict seemed to be subdued for once, and Poe felt more excited to be with Ro.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

    Music wandered throughout the kingdom of Cianna as people eagerly flowed under the moonlight. Everyone wore garments of blue, silver, and white. They had fixed their hair with gleaming stones, pieces of jewelry that created the illusion of sparkling starlight. Their outfits and jewelry made him believe they had found some way to use stones from the moon and light from the stars. It was breath-taking. Poe was impatiently waiting for the Ro to appear with her family. They had a tradition of devoting a part of the festival to visiting the catacombs of their family. They would light candles for them and leave little gifts in their memory. This was only for the Citlali family. The music had quieted down as some ate and drank. Poe’s eyes continued to search around the garden, but she wasn’t there yet. His leg bounced impatiently as he waited. Plenty of other girls continued asking him to dance, and he declined. 

    “Impatient?” Kes asked before taking a seat beside the young prince. Kes had been noting how impatient Poe was growing with each fleeting second, but it also warmed his heart to see Poe excited to just see Ro. He had noted that Poe was becoming a little closer to the princess and was finally warming up to the girl. Ro was a wonderful young lady, and it honored Kes that she would be a part of his family one day.

    “That obvious?” Poe laughed before bumping his shoulder with his father’s while rubbing his hands together. It hadn’t gone unseen by Poe that Ignis was looking for the princess just as much as him. Suddenly, everyone had paused and shifted their attention to the stairs that ran from the balcony. Thalia was the first one down the stairs in her silver dress that was made of silk. The King and Queen followed behind, both wearing white outfits that matched perfectly. Then came Ro, and the sight of her made Poe gasp. The top of her dress was a dark blue and as it went down, shifted into a lighter blue. Parts of it glittered like starlight. But when he saw the bottom of the dress, he couldn’t help but chuckle at discovering her bare feet. However, it looked as if she had little gems on the tops of her feet. 

Oh. Wow. 

    That was all Poe could think as she descended the stairs. They had woven silver through her burgundy braids, and Poe was speechless. He stayed frozen in place as she reached him, and Kylo nudged him forward after a moment. His hand out, waiting for her. The world around Poe no longer existed as he brought her to the center to dance. They hadn’t stopped looking at each other as they waltzed to the music.

    “You look beautiful. . .” 

    “You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

    The music had shifted into a more upbeat piece, and they hadn’t even considered taking a break. Poe continued to lead her around the floor while their laughs carried through the air. Twirling around, bumping into so many that merely laughed before waving them off. The sight wasn’t going unnoticed at all. Their parents observed from the top table. 

    “Look at them. I’ve never seen them this happy.” Eirlys smiled as Jaqen gave a brief smile. 

    “Her and Poe are quite the couple. He’s becoming a good man, Kes.” Jaqen admitted before taking a sip of his wine. 

    “Your daughter seems to bring out the best in him.” Kes watched as the teenagers continued to dance. It had been too long since he had seen that smile, and he wanted to thank Ro for that. To all around them, they were perfect for one another. That even in this garden full of people, they only saw each other. However, there was one pair of eyes that never left them. Those eyes darkened with envy. 

    Those eyes had watched the prince and princess disappear without a word. However, it wasn’t Poe that led them away. But Ro. The King and Queen were leading a dance and King Kes had even asked the Queen’s sister for a dance. Everyone seemed to be distracted. However, his biggest challenge was getting past the Prince of Naboo. Kylo. Ignis knew Kylo would make this impossible. 

    Ro led the way up the dirt path to the top of the waterfalls. This was her favorite spot in all of Cianna and she’s wanted to share it with Poe. As Poe followed her up the path, he did his best not to step on her dress and would occasionally make sure that it didn’t get caught on something. Both of their hearts were pounding in their chests at the little adventure. No one had stopped them, and this would be the perfect spot to see the stars move across the sky. It was perfect. They gripped each other’s hands before Ro brought them to a flat stone to sit upon. Her feet dipping into the cool water made her shiver slightly, but Poe took that as a chance to wrap an arm around her shoulders and bring her closer. He waited for her to push him away. Instead, she shuffled closer. 

    “I don’t want you to marry Ignis. . .” 

    “I don’t want to marry him either.” 

    Poe sighed as he struggled to gather his words. He didn’t know how to express his feelings without getting everything mixed up. There was so much that he wished to say, but he wasn’t sure if he could say it all. How could he tell her that the sheer thought of someone else seeing her with her hair down made his blood boil? How could he say that he wasn’t ready to settle down but wanted to settle down with her in due time? Why was all of this so hard on him? Her head had shifted to rest on his shoulder, and he held her closer. His heart raced once more. She wasn't a horrible pick for a betrothed. She could be fun, bold, and witty. Little by little, he had warmed up to her. Aurora had turned into a cherished friend, but he wasn’t sure if they could live their lives as mere friends. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved to be loved, cherished. He just didn’t want to make her wait for him.

    “I really am trying, and I know it doesn’t look like it. I just -”

    “You wish to go on daring adventures, experience the world, follow in your mother’s footsteps. I hear you when you think I’m not listening. I’ve known this since we were eight. I try not to push you. I try to let you come around.” 

    Her words took Poe back. He wasn’t expecting Ro to know the extent of his passions, but once more she had surprised him. Thankfully, the night was hiding his blushing cheeks from her gaze. Maybe he had been more than vocal about everything, and more than once. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to think of what to say next, but Ro had moved to turn towards him. Taking his arm from her shoulder and lacing both of their hands together. Her thumbs sliding over the tops of his hands. 

    “I would wait years for you. I would wait until my hair was streaked with gray if it meant that you would be my husband. We don’t have to be married right away and we have time. Poe, I would never refuse you anything. If you honestly wish to be out of this, then I will tell my parents. If you want your freedom, just say the word.” 

    Her emerald hues held more emotion than he could ever imagine and searched them for some type of deception, but found nothing. She will give this all up, if it meant that he was happy. She had once more put him before herself. Anyone would be lucky to have her as a partner. She was going to make her name known no matter what path she walked, and Poe wanted to be near her for whichever she picked. His eyes flicker from hers to her lips, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. Everything for a split moment seemed so clear to him. Everything was right in front of him. They had missed the start of the stars shooting across the sky. Poe had gathered every ounce of courage in his body to move his face closer to hers. Their lips were mere inches apart, and he slowly leaned in. 

    “Aurora Citlali!”

    “Poe Dameron!” 

    The angry tones of their parents caused them to jump back. Their eyes were enormous, and they struggled to get off the rock and not look so suspicious in front of them. Kylo and Thalia pointed to Ignis, who was standing behind the King. Jaqen didn’t look too pleased by the sight that he had stumbled upon. This was more than embarrassing. Poe was bracing to take the blame, and waited. 

    “I am absolutely disappointed to see such behavior from you both. You both know the rules.” Eirlys spoke as Jaqen frowned. More upset that Ignis had been right. 

    “Poe, did you drag Ro into this?” Kes asked as he studied the teenagers. His arms crossed over his chest. 

    “I did. Poe can’t navigate the forest as well as I can. I led him up here. I wanted to show him the stars from here.” She admitted before Poe even said anything. All three of the adults looked startled at the confession. Ro was the good one between them. It was the truth that Ro could maneuver through the woods better than him and half of Cianna. 

    “Oh.” 

    “Aurora, you aren’t supposed to be alone. I guess we can enjoy the rest of the view from here as well.” 

    Jaqen would not be too hard on his daughter, despite the glare he received from his wife. Poe wasn’t surprised that she had gotten off with only a few words from her father. Ignis scoffed at the lack of punishment and he wished that Poe had gotten blame. The guard had turned to leave and join his own family down at the gardens. The Citlali and Dameron family stood together, observing the stars. Poe had taken Ro’s hand once more and squeezed it as they looked at each other. Something had evolved between them tonight. Something that neither of them could place or name just yet, but it was there. It was warm. They knew come later or tomorrow, both Thalia and Kylo would question them continually about what had taken place before they were interrupted, but that would be their secret. They might not have experienced a proper kiss, but they had experienced something much more.

[bringbackwendellvaughn]

Some Light Christmas Fun

i saw a bunch of my posts had been flagged as inappropriate by tumblr and appealed all of them so they now can show up. even the one about my obsession with psylocke. one i couldn’t appeal though (because it was a reblog) was a reply trying to identify all the characters depicted in The Raft as candidates for the Thunderbolts in Thunderbolts #155.

So now I am going to repeat some of what I said, add some more thoughts and try and identify them all.

This is actually one of my favourite past-times working out what stock background space fillers could reasonably be established characters. Let’s be honest, most of these were probably not meant to be anyone and were just people Kev Walker drew to fill up a room. But, within the story itself, they all have to be established super-villains who would be considered as applicants for the Thunderbolts. For identifying these, there are a few things to refer to here - the characters who are ultimately chosen to join the team are probably there, the next issue identifies some of these people who don’t make the cut, there was a poll featuring a vote for who you wanted to join the team (Shocker won, i voted for Madame Masque), some of the characters appear in other issues of Thunderbolts, some star in a preview story in Enter the Heroic Age and then in Heroic Age: Villains, Steve Rogers proposes several inmates of the Raft as potential future recruits for the Thunderbolts - some shown here.

1. Bison (Billy Kitson) or Man-Bull (William Taurens) Bison is a Thunderstrike enemy who later showed up on Crimson Cowl’s Masters of Evil in Kurt Busiek’s run on Thunderbolts. What we can see here is that it is an orange furred man, but the face cannot be seen. I am inclined to say that this would be Bison since Steve Rogers recommended him as a potential addition to the Thunderbolts in Heroic Age: Villains. This would be slightly off-model for him and it seems we should see his horns poking out here, but Bison is confirmed as being at The Raft and has that reason for being there. Alternatively it might be Man-Bull who is later shown to be at the Raft in some issues of Hercules. Then there is also Griffin (John Horton) who was a poll choice but like Bison’s horns, we should be able to see his wings, so I am definitively removing him as a possibility here..

2. Shocker (Herman Schultz)  Shocker joins the team next issue and is depicted with this hair. I’d lock him in as a definite.

3. ? We don’t have much to go on here besides a sort of faux-hawk hairdo. I’ve ran down the list of who could be there and turned up squat. Maybe in prison, Badd Axe grew a mohawk style. Badd Axe was another of the characters Steve Rogers proposed as a possible team candidate. Blizzard is confirmed as being there next issue - maybe he shaved his head like this to try and look more tough in prison.

4. Bloodshed (Wyndell Dickinson) Bloodshed is a Spider-Man baddie and another member of Crimson Cowl’s Masters of Evil (there’s a lot of them here). He’s apparently grown a goatee but I’d be confident to lock him in as another definite here. He was another of Steve’s candidates from Heroic Age: Villains.

5. Grizzly (Max Markham) I am a bit obsessed with shoving Grizzly into the background of this run. It’s not without precedent, he is depicted in Enter The Heroic Age as being at the Raft, Steve Rogers nominates him as a team member and before this run he was a full-fledged member of the team. This character design mostly suits being Grizzly, he’s the right size and has his soul-patch. The one thing stopping me from saying it’s definitely him is he appears to have some form of faceplate on him. Maybe this was an inking or colouring error? Maybe - just maybe - it is bandages from when Ant-Man climbed into his ear and beat up his ear-drums in Thunderbolts #143. That’s really reaching, especially considering Grizzly had appeared since without his ears being wrapped, but I really want to say this is Grizzly.

6. ? This character receives a fair amount of dialogue bullying pre-transformation Mr. Hyde in the next issue. Possibly trying to deflect their own lack of power by bullying Mr. Hyde when he thinks that Mr. Hyde is a weak timid guy worse off than him. We have a very generic black-haired guy who would bully a weakling, so who could it be?

7. Mr. Hyde (Calvin Zabo) This is kind of how he is depicted next issue when he is in his non-Mr. Hyde form. A small man with black hair cropped at the sides. He is also shown in front of 6 in a line and is bullied by him for looking weak and nerdy. Here he is shown stood in front of 6 again, so this would make sense as being Mr. Hyde.

8. Amazon (Katrina van Horn) or Titania (Mary MacPherran) I want to say this is Amazon, formerly Man-Killer, as she is an ex-Thunderbolt who despite only being on the team briefly always kept showing up in the book. She was again recommended as a possible Thunderbolt in Heroic Age: Villains and while her hair has grown a bit longer here, this would make sense as being her. I’d still hazard a bit to say lock this one in though because, alternatively, it could just as easily be Titania who is seen as an inmate in Thunderbolts #144.

9. ? This one has been bugging me for a while. I so know this character. Has black vertical lines on the eyes, right? Or it might be Armadillo (Antonio Rodriguez) which someone seems to have identified as being in this issue on terrible website ComicVine (I think they just confused 11 with Armadillo though). He’d be a good choice to be here though.

10. ? There is a few characters this could be. Next issue depicts a character with a hairless head with a less human face which might have been the intention here but it’s in the back so never required this detail. If we’re going with that one, the guess would be Headlok (Murray Singleton). At the other end, if you want to say he’s wearing a mask and again it’s the result of lack of detailed, Scarecrow (Ebeneezer Laughton) - next issue shows his mask as being biege. He was a poll choice and actually receives dialogue next issue.

11. Blood Brother The survivor of the two Blood Brothers, we saw this character in Enter The Heroic Age and in Thunderbolts #156 he is identified and given dialogue. He is depicted speaking to 6 and Mr. Hyde (7) next issue. There’s no area of debate this isn’t Blood Brother.

12. ? Short guy with long hair. This seems like it could be an easy one but I’m coming up empty. Dare I suggest this could be Grizzly again?

13. ? A tall woman with nice black hair. Possibly Titania again. Otherwise, the best I can think of is that Moonstone acknowledges Black Mamba as being there next issue. It’s maybe a bit too built for her but it’s also the one that looks the most like Black Mamba. 

14. ? I’m pulling this one out of nowhere but this could be Asp. The hair matches and she is Black Mamba’s bff, so it’d make sense they’d be near each other. 

15. Powderkeg (Frank Skorina) Powderkeg is a real Z-list villain fodder guy. He is confirmed as being a Raft inmate in Avengers Academy #4 (a light crossover issue with Thunderbolts) and I want to say this is definitely him even if it requires a little bit more footwork.

16. Super-Skrull (Kl’rt) Confirmed next issue.

17. Skeleton Ki (Alisher Sham) One of Steve Rogers’ picks and this one is wearing a skeleton face mask so it seems quite evident it is him. Lock in Skeleton Ki as number 17.

18. ? This character is also depicted next issue, stood behind Blood Brother and 6 during the Mr. Hyde bullying scene. Based on that, it’s clear he is a male with long hair.

19. ? Absolutely no idea. Woman with corn-rows.

20. Dark Beast (Hank McCoy) AOA-verse evil version of Beast. Jeff Parker originally wanted this character to join the team but was blocked by the X-offices. Centurius filled his role instead. Dark Beast is shown on the cover to #156, was also one of the poll choices and him being drawn a bit poorly here might have been a last-minute alteration to try and change it to NOT be Dark Beast. This is definitely meant to be Dark Beast though.

21. Poundcakes (Marian Pouncy) Poundcakes is shown as a inmate of the Raft in Thunderbolts #159. The body type is a match and the hair is consistent with how she is shown in #159. Lock her in.

22. Boomerang (Fred Myers) He joins the team next issue. This is another case where this is obviously the character. 100% definite here.

23. Ox (Roland Bloch) Member of the Enforcers (and briefly the Thunderbolts Army). This is how Ox was drawn in Enter The Heroic Age. The colour of his hair has slightly changed but put him in the definite machine.

24. Mandrill (Jerome Beechman) This is Mandrill. Easy.

25. Troll (Gunna Sijurvald) She joins the team. This is undebatably her.

26. Bushwacker (Carl Burbank) Bushwacker is a former Daredevil and Punisher foil. This is definitely him. He was depicted exactly like this in Enter the Heroic Age. Definitely lock him in.

Here’s the bit in issue #156 which features some roll-call with not necessarily the character models depicted. 

Of those I can’t identify the first one (Blizzard because she mentions him? Really, any number of other bad guys listed below can fit this design), the next one is either 6 or 7, then up-front in that mask is Scarecrow (confirmed next 2 panels). Next that would b Bloodshed/4, and then possibly a miscoloured Ana Kravinoff, and finally Headlok and Super-Skrull.

Extra notes: - Centurius (Noah Black) is not depicted but joins the team.  - Blizzard (Donnie Gill) is confirmed as being there in this room as seen above but I don’t see any character that could really really be him. - Scarecrow (Ebeneezer Laughton) is as well but he’s been speculated all over the place. - Black Mamba (Tanya Sealy) likewise. - The leftover Steve Rogers’ suggestions from Heroic Age: Villains are Absorbing Man (Carl Creel), Answer (Aaron Nicholson), Badd Axe, Hydro-Man (Morris Bench), Lady Stilt-Man (Callie Ryan), Mad Dog (Buzz Baxter), Redeemer (Shep Gunderson), Ruby Thursday (Thursday Rubinstein) and Vector (Simon Utrecht). Some of them like Ruby Thursday are clearly not there. - He also recommended the Young Masters but none of them were ever even arrested. - The cover to issue #156 also features Abomination (Emil Blonsky), Absorbing Man, Batroc (Georges Batroc), Ana Kravinoff and Sandman (William Baker/Flint Marko) - none of these appear to be there and Abomination had been dead for a few years by that point. - I can’t find the poll itself, I can find a link to it but it just redirects to Marvel.com, and other than the winner (Shocker) and who I voted for (Madame Masque), the other choices are sourced from a forum post. Absorbing Man, Batroc, Brother(s?) Grimm, Dark Beast, Doctor Demonicus (Douglas Birely), Griffin, Ana Kravinoff, Living Laser (Arthur Parks), Madame Masque (Whitney Frost), Mr. Hyde, Sandman, Scarecrow, Shocker and Other. Noticeably nearly all the ones on the cover to #156 were listed. Other allowed you to write-in a choice but they shouldn’t really count towards this. Of these ones, Absorbing Man, Doctor Demonicus (deformed face with horns), possibly Griffin, Ana Kravinoff, Living Laser (stuck in energy form), Madame Masque and Sandman are obviously not there. - Some other confirmed Raft inmates at this time from other Thunderbolts issues include Axe (Jerome Hamilton), Corruptor (Jackson Day), Mr. Fear (Alan Fagan), Mo Money, Purple Man (Zebediah Kilgrave) and Titania. #159 gives us 3 previously unseen characters: Big Roy (a Walrus monster man), Man-Mountain Mario (Man-Mountain Marko’s cousin) and Indali (a normal looking woman who is the Queen B of the women’s wing of the prison). In other books we see Basilisk (Basil Elks), Blackout (of the Lilin), Crossfire (William Cross), Griffin, Hecate, Man-Bull, Vermin (Edward Whelan) and probably much much more but those are the ones that come straight to mind from Avengers Academy #4, Hawkeye and Mockingbird and a Hercules story. - While Crossbones (Brock Rumlow), Hyperion, Nuke (Frank Simpson) and Norman Osborn are all being held at The Raft, they are not eligible for the team.

Feel free to contribute or ignore this.

[juukyu]

Pact Coffee Project

Details About the Brand

Target Audience Pact has two main audiences; independent coffee shops the customers of those coffee shops. Coffee is a very broad market, but it is very popular with university students and working adults, typically around the 25 – 35 age range.

Initial Thoughts Most of the cafés that stock Pact coffee will advertise that they are doing so by putting bags of it in the window of their shop or having bags out on display within the shop. The bags themselves are very plain, just a brown bag with the details of the coffee on the front. I think that adding some artwork to the bags would catch people’s eyes and lead to more sales of the product. Based on the intended audience of the coffee, the designs should be playful and relaxed but still carry a sense of maturity; I don’t want them to come off as childish.

Market Research

Pact’s Current Packaging

Pact’s current packaging is plain and simple; the front tells you which blend it is and the back gives information on which farmers grew the coffee and various other coffee related info. The packaging is fine for returning customers who know that they like the taste, but I don’t think any first-time buyers would pick this instead of any other bag of coffee based on the packaging alone.

The Packaging of Other Coffee Brands I popped around to my local shops to have a look at other coffee brands packaging. I myself am not exactly a fan of coffee, so I feel this was a good exercise as I don’t know the difference between any of the coffee brands, or if some have better reputations than others, so I can only make my decision based off of the packaging. Here is what I found:

Taylors of Harrogate Coffee

Clippers Coffee

What drew me to these 2 brands was that they have something visually interesting on them, but without it feeling overwhelming. They stick out from the rest of the coffee brands, which normally use silver or brown colour palettes, and instead choose to be colourful and eye catching. They convey a calm mood with the imagery that they use, which I think is an important factor as coffee is often drunk in the morning, a time when not much is happening and people are getting ready for their day.

Concept Stage

Initial Concepts

Concept 1 The concept for this would be do have a clear ellipse in the middle of the bag, with a farmer’s face vectored over it, but with the skin tone being coffee beans.

Concept 2 When the coffee is grown in the fields, it tends to be planted in a wavy hedge formation. I would either have a clear section on a paper bag, or have a recyclable plastic bag, either of which would feature some of those hedges, either drawn or vectored, with the negative space in which the coffee beans would be shown acting as the colour of the ground.

Concept 3 Create some colourful standalone artwork related in both colour and theme to countries that Pact sources their coffee from. This artwork could then be used both on packaging and on POS items such as aprons, posters etc.

Concept Mock-ups:

Further Research

I decided to dive deeper into the roots of coffee and where Pact was getting it from. This turned out to be mainly Brazil and Columbia. I chose to focus on Brazil since it was the number one location that Pact is sourcing from. I’m a musician, and I believe that music is a great reflection of a country’s culture, so I looked to the Brazilian music scene for inspiration.

Concept 1: Unity

The first genre I looked into was Samba. It was the firs thting that came to my mind when I thought of music from Brazil. The genre is heavily focused on working in unison with others. Most of the melodies are made up of acapella choirs, and the drum beats are typically played by multiple people at the same time, creating a huge atmosphere from sound that wouldn’t be possible without such a large group of people. This concept would have a focus on community, and themes of dancing/happiness. This Samba style is associated with vivid colours, so I would play into that aspect of the aesthetic.

Concept 2: Bossa Nova

Bossa Nova was the next genre I looked to. The genre originated from Brazil and also was perfected there. It’s a mix of Samba and Jazz elements which make for a very pleasant, and slightly more grown-up/mature vibe. I think this vibe is suitable for Pact coffee, given that it’s an expensive brand that, realistically, only people with disposable income buy. A lot of people into coffee enough to spend big bucks on coffee beans will most likely also have expensive equipment to go along with it, so this concept would focus on creating a design that can look premium, expensive and elegant next to all that expensive coffee-ware. The main colour palette that comes to my mind is Gold/Black.

Concept 3: Bond

For this concept, I equired with my Brazilian friend about how much coffee is cosumed in Brazil. He asked his parents and they replied “as much as water”. This concept would focus on the fact that Pact is a link between the coffee lovers of Brazil and the coffee lovers of England. Pact would be visualised as the intermediary.

Development/Mock-Ups

I ended up developing the bossa nova concept. I chose to take inspiration from classical guitars, since they are the most commonly used instruments in the Bossa Nova genre, and contribute heavily to its signature sound. The sound holes typically have intricate patterns around them, which I wanted to emulate for my design. Here are some examples:

I used these as a visual reference when making my design. I wanted the design to look elegant and premium, so I used a gold colour scheme. Here’s what I came up with:

Here are some mockups using the design:

After taking in feeback for the design, I shrunk the logo in the middle and added colour the the pattern. I chose to use the colour palette of the Brazilian flag given that Brazil is the country that this graphic is representing. Here is the final Brazil design:

From this design I also made a pattern to be used on coffee cups:

Here’s some mockups of the designs:

Applying the Musical Theme to other Countries

I decided to take the theme of taking inspiration from a countries traditional music and apply it to another country, this time Columbia. Pact sources coffee from Columbia almost as much as Brazil, so I wanted to include the country as an example to show that the concept of this design process can be applied to more than just Brazil.

Research and Development/Mockups

One of Columbia’s most popular traditional music genres is Vallenato. The main instrument of the genre is the accordion, which I did attempt to make a design for, but it just wasn’t working, so I decided to look further into the genre. I found that almost every picture and video of the genre being played featured at least one person wearing a Vueltiao hat. These hats are an important part of Columbian culture and also synonymous with the Vallenato genre. Here are some examples of the hat:

Using these hats as inspiration, I made a piece of artwork in Photoshop as a proof of concept that this idea can be applied to multiple countries. Here is what I came up with:

I would’ve liked to have done more work to this idea but I ran out of time towards the end of the project. I still included it as a proof of concept as I mentioned above.

Summary

The final design overall for the whole project that I am most happy with is the refined guitar design:

I learnt a lot throughout this project; mainly ways to generate ideas that I hadn’t tried before. I found that throwing myself into the world of the source material of a project really helps me to come up with ideas I can say that I’m happy with. Fr this project, it was diving into the Bossanova genre, something I hadn’t really done before, and I ended up with a good design and also some songs from that genre that I’m still listening to now.

[shadowetienne]

Seventeen’s ;[Semicolon] Album Thoughts/Review

I’m really enjoying this album so far! To lean into the theme, they really hit this one out of the park, and it’s not a surprise per say, since Seventeen has never made an album where I didn’t at least somewhat enjoy every single song on the album, and I’ve been following them since pre-debut days. It’s fascinating to see their sound evolve and diversify though. I have been waiting for age line songs to happen since like their second comeback though, and I’m thrilled. My favorite age line song is highly biased though, considering my favorite members are 3/4ths of 96-line (Junhui, Wonwoo, Woozi).

I am pleased that Woozi’s experimenting with interesting rhythmic elements in songwriting has carried over from Hen;garae, since that was something that made me love that album! I also really like the number of different styles hit across this album while still all sounding like Seventeen.

Thoughts on the individual tracks under the cut for length...

These are in order tracklist (on Spotify), not preference order.

1. Home;Run

They nailed it with choosing this as the title track of the two full member songs. It’s catchy, dance worthy, and really showcases all the members well. I enjoy the MV (and will make a separate post with my review for that probably). This isn’t going to make my favorite title tracks of Seventeen shortlist (a list I should possibly formalize at some point), but it’s a very very good song, and I like it a lot.

Some of my favorite elements of the sound... This is a more compositionally mature return to some of their earlier big band/jazz/musical theatre influenced sounds and themes. Their harmonies and interesting vocal runs, which are something that drew me to the group in the beginning have improved so much. I think that you can stand this track next to their first few title tracks and really see how much they’ve grown and improved over the years, which is stunning considering how outstanding they already were at debut. There is a lot going on in the backtrack that really works and makes the vocals pop. I think that the biggest place that Woozi has improved as a composer over the years is his use of interesting rhythmic elements though.

2. Do Re Mi

Maknae-line (99-98 line) song! This is a really pleasant sound, and it lets us hear vocal Dino really well, which I appreciate. Also, I am so impressed with how much Vernon’s vocals have improved over the years. Seungkwan really gets to shine here without sharing his main vocal time with anyone. However, I’m really impressed with how well distributed the lines are, and it allows all three of them to shine with their strengths.

I am really happy that Vernon was involved in the songwriting of this song, especially since it feels right to have one of the members in the song involved in the writing (both composition and lyrics). It definitely has a quality that makes it different from a just Woozi and Bumzu driven thing while still having that Seventeen flavor.

3. Hey Buddy

97-line song! This is probably my second favorite of the age line songs. I love Seokmin’s voice so very much, and I definitely like the way that the rhythmic elements of this song just keep it moving. I am literally typing faster listening to it than I did when listening to Do Re Mi, which is an interesting effect. I enjoy getting to hear more of Mingyu’s singing (so much improved over the years, demonstrating more range), and all of Minghao’s lines. Honestly this bigger time for everyone is one of my favorite things about age line songs.

I am really pleased to see Minghao having worked on the compsition and lyrics for this song. It definitely helps with the making it 97-line’s song. Though the sound of this doesn’t have quite as much of a differentiation from the general Seventeen sound as Do Re Mi did (that’s not a complaint).

4. Light a Flame

96-line song! This is my favorite age line song, possibly my favorite song on the album, but I am deeply deeply biased about this. Junhui, Wonwoo, and Woozi are my favorite members, and getting this much of all three of them singing, alongside Hoshi, whose voice is also amazing, is wonderful. I’m really glad that while Wonwoo did the rap, he also got plenty of lower register vocal time. Woozi getting to show of his technical vocal skill which is often a little overshadowed in the group because his voice is less powerful than the main main vocals is an excellent element of this song as well.

This is Woozi clearly playing with a new sound too, which I love. It’s interesting and it suits all four of their voices really well. I want to hear more of this sound from him.

5. Ah! Love

95-line song! This is a really pleasant song. All three of them have lovely voices, and I’m really happy to hear Seungcheol getting vocal time. This is a great chance to also hear how much Joshua and Jeonghan’s voices have improved since debut. They’ve always been great vocalists, but their voices have grown and improved a lot since debut and they can really hold their own as main vocalists.

Seungcheol contributed to the lyrics, but I’m unsurprised that this is a more general sound Seventeen song since it’s a Woozi and Bumzu driven song without one of the 95-line members having worked on composition. I could see this as a vocal line song easily, so it’s really cool to hear Seungcheol getting to participate in that.

6. All My Love

This is probably my other favorite song on the album. It’s soothing and rhythmically interesting, and really shows a lot of their current song. It seems to me to be part of the same sound grouping as “My My,” and I really liked “My My,” so that’s a good thing.

General thoughts, the line distribution of this album is so good! I am really enjoying this partial return to their early sound while incorporating the growth from earlier eras and also continuing to try new things. Seventeen never disappoints in their comebacks!

[sonatanotwo]

Okay. I rattle on a lot about ages... so figure I might drop my brain thinkings into a post so if anyone is curious how I arrive at my estimates... well... here you go. Hang onto your hats... I’m about to drop a LOT of info. XDDD

Okay. I rattle on a lot about ages... so figure I might drop my brain thinkings into a post so if anyone is curious how I arrive at my estimates... well... here you go. Hang onto your hats... I’m about to drop a LOT of info. XDDD

There’s a few things to establish first... some facts and things I’m gonna assume based on how things are presented.

The series starts in 2060 (as quoted by Virgil in Ring of Fire)

If Alan is graduating now, he’s probably 18 (as I mentioned in reply to blanket-fish and few others ^^) and usually that’d be June-ish in NA school systems... and since we’re dealing with american characters and largely american writers, including the head writer... I’m goin’ with that!... SO... current eps would be around then.

Also gonna assume Scott is about 10 years older than Alan. (Some old TAG magazine that I hold to a grain of salt said 9 years... but I mean. 10 is nicer and I mean... TECHNICALLY with how their birthdays are... you could say actually they’re 9 years and lil’ over 11 months apart. SO, then that would make it 9 years technically if you really wanna round down. lol BUT yeah, I’m goin’ with 10.)

So first let’s talk about spacing. Generally when I age the boys I try to give them at LEAST 18 months between them... which is really the amount of time one should give themselves between pregnancies at the very least. That’s easy for most of them... only John and Gordon come in a bit under that, but we’ll get back to that.

SO... I wanna go with, as of current eps, Scott is 28.

That’d make him born April 4th, 2035. (I think that’s right anyways.) Then we can make Virgil August 15th, 2037. (Which puts them 2 years and several months between.) John then October 8th, 2039, also over 2 years apart from Virgil... perf. THEN.. Gordon.

Gordon is the 14th of February. Now to make him 2041 that would mean their Mom had Gordon a lot sooner... like VERY lot sooner than like... the recommended time off after John. They’re such troublemakers those two. XDDD (THEY are, in fact, the reason TOS Virgil and John were switched. The company (that owned TOS at the time) wanted to make a “style guide” and  wanted the birthdates to match one info with a tighter age spread with John 22 and Gordon 21... which meant Gordon would be born 4 months after John. Which would be a WEE BIT IMPOSSIBLE. In the end they decided to switch John and Virg and tweak things to fit... that’s the tl;dr version of the story, but yeah!) SO yeah, the better choice might be to shove him another year to 2042, which then leaves plenty of time and is better for their Mom.

OKAY. SO. In current time then...

Scott is 28, Virgil 25 (26 in like less than 2 months), John 23 (24 in less than 4 months), Gordon then could be 21 (or 22 but ehhh) and Alan 18.

Then as for some of the other cast... Kayo is kinda hard to place these days, though I feel like given how she interacts with the older boys she is definitely a little on the older scale... but IDK where exactly. In TOS Tin-Tin was 22 and birthday June 20th, but that was to be close to Alan.

Penelope has come up... especially that line in RoF about her looking into things for Jeff. Don’t forget her looking into things is her and Parker looking into things. He’d be most likely one digging into stuff for her. XDa But yeah hrm... 17-18 then making her 25-26 now doesn’t sound so bad? lol 26 was actually her listed age in TOS. (Her birthday being Christmas Eve.) Once you get into your 20s and onwards a few years between people becomes nothing in regards to her and Gordon. ^^b And yeah. IDK. Late teen for sleuthing doesn’t bother me, but then I’ve grown up reading the likes of Nancy Drew and such, soooo... XDa Even being 16 isn’t tooooooooooo far fetched imho, but yeah. That line didn’t age well. lol Oops.

Grandma is a big \O_o/ And Jeff’s January 2nd birthday and was 56... I’d guess something similar in TAG, less perhaps a few years. ^^b That works fine for the boys. (Mid-late 20s then when Scott was born.)

And Brains... November 14th, for the record and in TOS he was 25, but I really do believe he’s much older in TAG. Well into his 30s even, since he’s been to university and worked for Fischler awhile after... then Jeff happened. Brains likely woulda been late teen or early 20s then? Then the TV-21 was built and sank... Scott was ‘just a kid’ when that happened. So like... 28... minus 8 years, minus maybe another 5-6? to make Scott 15-14... so near Alan’s ‘just a kid’ type age? But coulda been even bit younger. Plus then add a year or two working for Jeff and making the TV-21 and everything... Then if say he was least 18 when came to work for Jeff... Def talking in the realm of mid-30s. SO. That is my guess. lol (And so why I tend to think of Brains being like... older surrogate brother or uncle to the boys... cause he woulda met them all when they were decidedly kids.)

SO YEAH. These are my brain thinkings. I feel like I’m forgetting something, but I am le-tired. Be interesting to see if we get any more clues from the last ep or if Rob spills some data on twitter, which he has suggested he might least in regards to Jeff... so we shall see. XDa

OH lastly... for any of my fellow visual folk here’s my lil’ helpful chart that shows how I figured out time between birthdates of the older boys. (Remember you need 9ish (very much ISH) months for being pregnant. Then they recommend 18 months between being pregnant... yes Virg and John are a titch under that, but least not by TOO too much.)

[daveyjacobss]

i’ve waited my whole life

jack kelly x davey jacobs

summary: i want to drive away with you, i want your complications too

(or: jack and davey get caught in a blizzard on the way to the jacobs’ for hanukkah)

a/n: happy hanukkah everyone!! it’s 10:26 pm here which means i officially finished this in time for the first night of hanukkah!!! hope you all enjoy this, as always - i’d love to hear your reactions :) (& yes the title is from paper rings by taylor swift and there will hopefully be a holiday themed mini series with other taylor swift lyrics and other ships)

also - the spacing/formatting of this is showing up really weird for me, so sorry if it shows up like that for you too :/

ao3 | masterlist

__________

It started snowing only a little bit before Jack and Davey left their shared apartment and got into their car. It was just a few flurries, nothing too much to worry about. At least, that's what the weather forecast had said. So they headed out with no worries on their mind, singing loudly to the songs on Jack's playlist. Jack was behind the wheel because Davey was too anxious of a driver, and Jack hadn't wanted to stress him out at all. Which he wasn't, or at least it didn't seem like it. Which was good, obviously. Even if Jack himself was maybe, possibly, more anxious than he'd ever been.

They were on their way to Davey's parents house, with the intention of spending the entire of Hanukkah there. Jack wasn't Jewish, but after so many years of knowing Davey and being welcomed into his family he was fairly familiar with their traditions. And, really, none of that should have made him anxious in the slightest - because he knew Davey's family. He loved the Jacobs, and they loved him. Davey had already made several comments about how excited Les would be to hang out with Jack (the kid practically idolized him) and he and Sarah were good friends, despite the fact that she was dating Jack's sort of ex-girlfriend. (They were fine, though. The break up was mutual, and Katherine and him were still close.) Davey's parents were happy to have him, they always had been from the minute he had befriended Davey back in high school. And he wasn't an anxious driver like Davey. Actually, driving came naturally to him, just like painting. So there was no reason for him to be so stressed.

Except he was. And maybe there was a small, minuscule, barely-there reason. For example, the fact that it had only been a week since Jack had realized that he was in love with his best friend, AKA the guy seated next to him passionately singing along to Paper Rings. Jack wanted to lean over and kiss him senseless, to hell with safe driving. He did not do that, obviously, but the thought was there, and it made him anxious.

They had been watching some Hallmark Christmas movie together on the couch when it happened. They both adored those stupid films, entertaining themselves by making comments and jokes, criticizing every action each character took. The main protagonist in the movie they'd been watching had done something particularly idiotic, and Jack made a comment about how it was dumber than that time Race and Albert has decided to test out whether their tongues would actually stick to a frozen pole. Davey has burst out laughing, spilling some the popcorn out of the bowl that had been resting on his lap. Jack looked over with a smug smile, proud of his joke, but it fell away quickly. Watching as Davey laughed, the light from the TV screen illuminating his face, took Jack's breath away. He looked so...so.... beautiful. And then that was all he could think about, just how fucking gorgeous Davey Jacobs was. Davey seemed none the wiser to Jack's heart-stopping epiphany. But Jack was suddenly hyper aware of how close they were sitting, sharing the same blanket and eating popcorn out of the same bowl, legs touching. He couldn't get himself to pay attention to the rest of the movie, his breath hitching each time Davey moved. Davey fell asleep only a little bit after the next movie started, his head falling on Jack's shoulder.

Jack wanted to run to the window, open it, and scream endlessly into the abyss of the night sky. He could not have a crush on Davey, of all people. Not after all these years of strictly platonic feelings. Except, maybe they hadn't been. The longer he sat there with Davey's head on his shoulder, the more he realized just how long he had been harboring feelings for his roommate. And, with that, came the realization that those feelings were not simply a crush.

So as Davey laughed his way through songs and the snow steadily began to pick up, Jack was extremely anxious. He didn't know how to act around Davey anymore. Try as he might, nothing he said or did felt right. Nothing felt normal. Davey could tell something was off, Jack knew he could, but he was merciful enough to leave it be. Jack joined him in singing along with a Mumford & Sons song, hoping that he didn't look as distraught as he felt. More than anything, he was terrified that Katherine and Sarah would see right through him. They would know.

They were about an hour into the drive when Jack started to grow worried about the snow. The windshield wipers were working like crazy, and they could only see so far ahead of the car. Davey, ever the sensible one, unplugged Jack's phone and switched to a radio channel announcing weather reports. The radio anchor's voice filled the car, somewhat disrupted (which Jack assumed was due to the storm they were driving through).

"No one could have predicted this blizzard!" The guy said, sounding cheerful. Davey and Jack exchanges worried glances, but kept quiet so they could keep listening. "Due to the poor visibility out on the roads, all drivers are being urged to find somewhere to park or pullover, and hopefully make it inside."

"Great," Jack quipped sarcastically, trying to sound unfazed. Davey whipped out his phone, presumably looking up places near them that they could go. Without thinking, Jack reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. The last thing he wanted was Davey having a panic attack because of the snow. Jack was a good enough driver, and it wasn't as if they were driving in the middle of nowhere - there was bound to be somewhere they could go. Davey shot him a grateful look before returning his gaze to his phone, sitting up straighter within a few seconds.

"Okay, at the next light we come to turn right. There's a diner not too far down the road and the website says they're open." Jack nodded in affirmation, slowing to a stop at the red light as he turned on his turn signal. The turn itself was bit bumpy, their tires slipping a little on the snow. Davey drew in a sharp breath and his hand shot out to grip tightly onto Jack's arm. Jack hated how his heart skipped a beat at the contact.

The diner in question came into view rather quickly, a warm yellow and red sign composed of neon lights informing them that it was called Frank's. Jack pulled into the parking lot fairly easily, parking in the closest spot to the building available. There was only two other cars in the small lot, so they assumed they wouldn't be getting too much company while they were there. They both zipped up their jackets all the way and did everything they could to cover every inch of themselves to stay protected from the cold. Davey took a deep breath and then looked over at Jack.

"Okay," he said, muffled due to the fact that the bottom of his face was tucked into the neck of his coat. "Let's do this."

They opened their respective car doors and jumped out as quick as they could, slamming the doors behind them as they made a break for the entrance to the building. They burst through doors panting with a gust of wind right behind them. A girl around their age, maybe a little older, looked up from where she stood behind the counter, drinking from a mug. She raised an eyebrow at them with a somewhat amused grin.

"Suppose you boys are looking for somewhere to escape the storm?" She asked, a slight drawl in her voice that made it sound like she had grown up in the south. Jack nodded in response, flexing his hands to try and bring some warmth into his hands. "Well, take any table you like," she instructed. "I'll go grab you some menus." She retreated through a door to what Jack assumed was the kitchen in the back. He followed Davey's lead to a booth by the windows, sliding into the seat opposite him.

"Damn," he sighed, looking out at the snow. "Guess we're gonna be late." Davey let out a very unattractive snort that Jack should not have found endearing in the slightest (except he did).

"Yeah, I'd say so," Davey smiled. The girl returned then, saving Jack from getting too lost in Davey's eyes. Now that she was out from behind the counter, heading toward their booth with menus in hand, he could see that she was wearing a yellow 50s style uniform. It was cute and, as he looked around, he realized that it matched the aesthetic of the rest of the diner as well. There was a jukebox against one of the walls and photos and posters from the 50s scattered through the place. Jack was filled with the urge to sketch it, but all of the art supplies he had brought with him were back in the car.

When the waitress reached their table she laid the menus out in front of them and Jack was able to read on her name tag that her name was Maria.

"Alright, so right now we're technically serving the lunch menu," she pointed to the middle section of Davey's menu, "but we serve breakfast all day, and if y'all want something from the dinner menu, that's fine. Not like we're getting much other business today." She shrugged with an easy smile. "Can I start you off with some drinks? Normally I'd recommend the milkshakes but, well..." she gesture out the window and Jack gave a little laugh. She smiled sweetly at him in response.

"You know what?" He asked. "I'll still take a milkshake. Black and white, please."

"And for you, doll?" She turned Davey. Jack watched as his cheeks tinted pink at the nickname and simultaneously wanted to tease him and tell Maria to back off (not that he had any right to do that, but he wanted to be the one making Davey blush).

"I'll have a Oreo milkshake, please," he spoke quietly.

"Sure thing," she grinned at the both of them. "They'll be right out."

They sat in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the diner. Jack watched Davey's face as the other man gazed at the falling snow with an almost childlike wonder. He had always known that Davey was the out-of-this-world type beautiful, even from the first moment he saw him - but what he hadn't realized was that, overtime, those foreign elements of beauty had instead become familiar and comforting, giving him a new type of artistry. His eyes, once mysterious, were now read as easily as a book. He hadn't realized how long he had simply been ogling at Davey until Maria came back with their shakes in hand.

"Here ya go," she grinned, setting their glasses down in front of them. Her smile turned sheepish as they both grinned back at her. "Would y'all mind if I just hung out in the kitchen for now? My girlfriend's back there making food for us." A warm feeling bloomed in Jack's chest. No matter how old he got, he didn't think he would ever get past the joy that came with hearing someone else talk so casually about not being straight.

"It's no problem at all," Davey said at the same time as Jack opened his mouth to say "Of course."

"Thank you," Maria beamed. "If y'all need anything you have full permission to go into the kitchen." With that, she was practically skipping off.

"Well, that was nice" Davey chuckled softly. Jack focused on his milkshake so as not to find himself captivated by the way Davey's face had softened at the mention of the waitress's girlfriend.

__________

They'd been at the diner for a few hours, talking and playing games to pass the time. They hadn't seen a lot of Maria, but they had met her girlfriend, Abigail, who had greeted them with one of the biggest, friendliest smiles Jack had ever seen.

"Okay, so," Jack began. "In the future, would you rather there be flying cards or actual hoverboards like in Back to the Future?" Davey, who was laying on one of the booth seat with his head hanging upside down facing Jack laying in a booth opposite him, tilted his head with a questioning look on his face.

"Are there hoverboards in Back to the Future?" He asked. Jack took a pause to think.

"Pretty sure, yeah. 'S been a while since I've seen it."

"I don't think I've watched it since I was a kid and my parents showed it to me and Sarah."

"We're getting off topic here, Dave." Davey's cheeks went rosy in response to the nickname and Jack grinned.

"Alright, I suppose I'd want flying cars," Davey finally answered.

"Why?"

"I'd probably fall off of a hoverboard, to be honest." Jack burst out laughing at his answer, and Davey smiled at him when he did.

"Oh, you definitely would!" Jack giggled. "You'd call right on your face, oh my god!" Davey sat up to grab a napkin of the table before crumbling it up and throwing it at Jack. It hit him right on the forehead and his laughter only increased in volume, Davey joining in.

"Okay, okay," Davey heaved, still catching his breath. "In the future." Jack motioned for him to continue, still slightly laughing. "In the future, how many kids do you want?"

"Not sure I want any really, not when I'm basically already a father for all of the boys," Jack smirked. Davey smiled fondly at him.

"Don't think that's gonna work," Davey chuckled. "I've already got tons of baby name options for us." He smiled at Jack, all bright eyes and messy hair and flushed cheeks with the snowy world in the window behind him and just from looking at it Jack could tell it was so, so cold but Davey was right there and he was nothing but warmth.

Us.

Jack couldn't breath.

And Davey was still just sat there, smiling at him like he hadn't just sent Jack's heart running directly out of his chest.

"Us?" He finally managed to ask, voice barely even a whisper.  Davey's smile dropped and his blush deepened, his eyes immediately leaving Jack's face in favor of staring at the wall to his right. "David," Jack tried again, voice a little bit stronger. "What did you by 'us'?" Davey glanced quickly at him before looking away again as if his life depended on it.

"I just-" He started, but his voice gave out on him slightly and he paused to breath, and then gulped in a cartoonish way that Jack would have teased him about at any other time. "Whenever I think about the future, I think about us. Together." Davey's face was red to a concerning degree and his hands were shaking and fidgeting in a way that made it clear to Jack that his anxiety was kicking in at full force. But Jack wasn't supposed to be someone that Davey got anxious around, he was supposed to be the one who kept Davey grounded, who held his hand when he needed a physical anchor and counted his breaths for him.  Davey was sat there, all bright eyes and messy hair and flushed cheeks. He was beautiful and familiar and warm and he was home. And Jack was so unbelievably irreversibly in love with him.

Davey opened his mouth to start speaking again, but before he even got the chance Jack had crossed the space between their opposite booths and had practically tackled him down into the cushioned booth seat.

Kissing Davey was easy. Kissing Davey was breathtaking and warm and fuzzy and happy. Kissing Davey was all Jack had wanted to do for years, even if he hadn't known it. And Davey was kissing him back. Davey was grabbing his shoulders and his hair and pulling closer and Jack could kiss him for the rest of time and never grow tired of it. They were in the middle of a blizzard in a 50s themed diner, laying down tangled up in one of the booths, and it wasn't where Jack had pictured it happening. In all of his daydreams, he'd never pictured where they would end up - where it would happen. But when they pulled apart and they were both panting and Davey beamed up after him with a look of pure elation Jack didn't even give it a second thought before saying it.

“I'm in love with you."

Davey's smile only widened as he pulled Jack in for another kiss.

"I'm in love with you too, you dork." Jack laughed and then so did Davey and everything felt so absolutely right. They spent the rest of their time in the diner cuddled up in that booth, talking quietly with flushed cheeks and ecstatic smiles.

When the storm cleared enough for it to be safe to get back on the road, they bid Maria and Abigail a cheerful goodbye. The car ride the rest of the way to Davey's parents' house was charged with a new type of energy. They debated whether or not to tell everyone right away, given they had quite literally just gotten together, and decided against saying anything immediately - if only because they wanted to see whether Sarah or Katherine would figure it out first.

And, despite his normal anxiousness on the road, Davey held Jack's hand the whole time.

_________

taglist:

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[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, CHARLIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of CORIOLANUS. Admin Jen: There are no words to describe how floored I was by the stellar portrayal you've presented to us, Charlie. With two very strong applications, we were given quite a difficult decision, but ultimately you showed us not only Coriolanus, but Cyrus, flaws and all. There is so much depth and nuance to Cyrus that it makes him not quite an easy character to grasp, but as I read your app, I could see all of it, small details and broad concepts alike, plucked and arranged in front of me in an alluring, mischievous array. You captured every aspect of Cyrus that is distinct and unique to him and him alone, from the various paths that his journey in Verona could take, to the tragic, painfully human starting point that paved the way for it, to his mannerisms and devious charm. He's going to be an absolute menace on the dash and I can't wait to see it! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Charlie

Age | 23 in less than a month!

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | 5-8. I think we all know how chaotic everything gets at the moment and that’s also mirrored in my activity. On the one hand, I have A LOT of free time on my hands right now and a very high motivation to write, at the same time, my mood is also very fickle throughout the day and can quickly jump from feeling like writing a novel to not even wanting to touch my laptop. However, I’m around for plotting basically 24/7 and have established in the past that queuing my replies works very well for me, so I’d be able to deliver replies on a regular basis.

Timezone | GMT+1/CET 

How did you find the rp?  | I’ve been a part of DV before.

Current/Past RP Accounts | https://ofduval.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER

Character | Cyrus Sloane

What drew you to this character? |

When I knew I wanted to rejoin Diverona, I also realized that I wanted to write a character, who challenges me as a writer, this time around and thus, started looking at characters I’ve never paid any real attention before as they’re not my go-to kinds of characters.

And then I stumbled across Cyrus bio and, for the first time ever since I stumbled across the group two years ago, truly read it. And what can I say, I fell in love.

He’s darkness combined with the charm and holiness of an angel, a paradox in itself. He’s like Lucifer, the one who shined brightest of all only to fall deeper than all the other angels. And just like Lucifer, he’d rather reign in Hell than serve in Heaven. He’ll do whatever it takes to build his own kingdom. Flectere si nequeo superos, acheronta movebo; if I cannot bend heaven, I’ll raise hell. 

Like the most poisonous flowers, he’s as beautiful as they come and will kill you softly from inside. Cyrus Sloane isn’t handsome nor attractive, he’s beautiful and that’s precisely what makes him so dangerous. To quote The Secret History: ‘Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.’ You’ll fear his name and yet, you also won’t help but feel drawn to it, almost like a fly to a Venus flytrap.

Also, his relationship with Vivianne? W o w is all I have to say about that. No, seriously, I’m so emo over this connection, you wouldn’t believe it. There is just so much potential in there, so much tragedy, so much angst, anger, chaos, and destruction that still deserves to unfold. And I yearn to be the one who gets the chance to do that. 

From reading up on past plot drops and my personal experience within the group (which might be totally wrong, it’s just my subjective perception!), I feel like, so far, Cyrus hasn’t really had the chance to play a key role, to go through the character development he deserves, to matter as much as he should. And I want to give this character, that has grown to be so near and dear to my heart in the past days, the chance to shine that he deserves. For the first time in forever, I can’t even bring myself to truly stress out over the application process as I normally do because this app simply needed to be written, I needed to write Cyrus at least once, even if it’s just in this app. 

Because he does things with me, I myself don’t quite understand just yet. To be frank, Cyrus Sloane gives me a freaking headache, I’m not gonna lie about that. He’s so much and so different from what I’m used to. But still, I just can’t help coming back for more. Which I feel is exactly what Cyrus does? No matter if he hurts you or puts you in uncomfortable situations, you’ll come back craving more. 

And I’m definitely craving more of him.

What future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

mother dearest.

Did she weep when she abandoned him? It’s a question he stopped asking himself a long time ago and yet, it still haunts him. He doesn’t want it to, has done everything in his power to stop caring about it and yet, it’s ingrained so deeply in his bones that even breaking them wouldn’t make him forget it.

Cyrus’ questions of what he did wrong to deserve such a fate turned into hatred for the woman, who is to blame for it all years ago. And still, there is still this childlike curiosity, this desire, so suppressed and ignored that even he believes he’s actually forgotten it, to find out why. 

The dynamic between Vivianne and Cyrus is a very delicate, very intriguing one and I’d love to explore it further. I’m not sure how much has happened there yet as it’s something that needed to be discussed with Lina, but I’d love for Cyrus to get those answers he tells himself he doesn’t even want to know anymore somewhere down the line. Maybe at one point, he might even downright confront her and demand to get them, though this roughness and lack of subtlety would have to be provoked in some way as it’s not his usual style. Nor does he really want her to know that he cares, or acknowledge that himself for that matter. 

I highly doubt that the knowledge of why will be enough to ease the hatred, the pain of the still aching wound that never healed. Finding out what happened, most likely won’t change anything about his determination to see her kingdom come undone as I imagine him being too far down this path for redemption. And yet, it’d be fun to see this already so complex dynamic filled with even more layers. 

see it all burn to ashes.

The tale of a mother abandoning her son, throwing him to the wolves is one as old as time.  The fatal consequences this act of cruelty can bring with it are just as well known. 

And yet, Cyrus intends to outdo them all. 

Considering how I feel like it’s his main character arch, I’m not going to be very concrete here as I think it’s something that needs to be plotted out together with other writers, not to mention that there are so many different routes that this arch could go. After all, all roads lead to Rome. 

One interesting option would be attempting to destroy the Capulets from within. For that, he’d have to make himself irreplaceable. 

This could go hand in hand together with the plot mentioned further below regarding him following into Cassian’s footsteps so I’m not going to delve into that here.

Additionally, In a city like Verona, secrets are a currency more valuable than money, as is information. Mona Chen is a perfect example of the importance of secrets just as the dead witches were. Considering how Mona now not only doesn’t work exclusively for the Capulets any longer but also charges them a heavier price than she used to, it’d be in the Capulets’ interests to replace her with somebody who works exclusively for them, who gives them the information they want for free. I’m not entirely sure of the concrete way to achieve it just yet, but I imagine somebody as charming and talented at manipulations as Cyrus is would be capable of eliciting secrets out of people without them truly realizing what they’re giving up. He might even build his own network of spies to take over that ‘vacant’ position. 

Secondly, he could attempt to set the Capulet empire aflame with the help of the Montagues, after all, there is some truth in the saying “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”. I’m also be going into more detail about that idea in a further plot point.

Whatever route, Cyrus will take in the end, I do want him to make a mark. To do some damage at least. Even though he’s young, he couldn’t have ever crowned himself king of Cape Town if he didn’t know how to gain power. 

the old king is dead, long live the king.

I feel like with Cassian - his mentor - dead, Cyrus is going to strive towards stepping into his footsteps and taking over his role in politics within Verona. After all, it’s what he trained for, what he endured Cassian’s company for. Only that he’ll do a better job as Cassian could have. After all, who could not fall in love with his angelic smile and boyish charm?

Even in a city controlled by the mafia, the civilians still play an important role. Incur the people’s wrath and you’ll find yourself in a tough position. Thus, getting the general population under control is most certainly a way to rise to power (as proven multiple times in various European countries in the past). 

I want Cyrus to get (more) involved with Verona’s politics, attempting to earn the support and respect of members of the leading families of Verona. As mentioned above, secrets are an important currency within Verona and not only among members of the mob. The more respectable the family is, the darker the secrets often are and the more determined they are to keep them hidden from public knowledge. 

Using that to his advantage paired with his boyish charm nobody ever has truly been able to resist, could be his way into politics and subsequently turning Verona into his kingdom.

He managed to do it in Cape Town, why shouldn’t the people of Verona earn to praise his name as well?

maybe we’re just young gods.

Saying Bernadette Dupont and Cyrus Sloane bring out the worst in each other, is an understatement. They’re a match made not in heaven but hell.

I think it’s safe to say that while causing havoc and chaos is fun, it’s not enough for them. For Cyrus at least it isn’t, he’s dead set on pushing the Capulets from their throne and putting himself on it instead. With Bunny as the queen by his side. 

I'm the king of everything and you’re the queen. 

I want to explore their relationship further. How far are they willing to go for each other, what lengths will they go to for their own amusement and selfish goals? Might there even be more going on between them than just causing destruction together? Could mutual selfishness possibly be replaced by truly caring about each other?

the enemy of my enemy.

First of all, I don’t think that Cyrus will ever truly betray the Capulets to become a Montague. Is there a chance of him betraying the capulets? Definitely. However, not to become somebody else’s puppet. No, if he does so, only because it’s in his best interests, because it helps him build his own empire.

His connection to Lawrence, whom he serves as an informant, is already a very intriguing and promising one as it’s a way for him to get involved with the Montagues. No matter what Lawrence might think, they’re meeting as equals, Cyrus only gives him the information for a price that he sets and not because he feels obliged to do so or because Lawrence has something on him. 

Considering how Lawrence isn’t a taken character as of right now and I don’t think he’s the only connection of this sort Cyrus has, I’d love to find a taken character with whom he’s entered a similar symbiosis. 

It’d be the perfect way into getting more power by slowly breaking down the Capulet kingdom piece by piece.

flying to close to the sun. 

Just like Icarus, Cyrus has built his own wings, yearning to fly, to become a god. And just like Icarus, at one point he’s bound to get too close to the sun, is going to get burned and plum into a yet unknown depth. 

Verona isn’t Cape Town and while he made himself a king there, while he built his own empire on another continent, this new playing field calls for stakes higher than any he’s ever known. He turned himself into a shark in a tank of guppies back then, how will he thrive in a tank full of sharks, all bigger and more experienced than him? 

The tragedy of striving to have everything is that you have all the more to lose. The higher you fly, the deeper you can fall. And it’d be such bittersweet irony if his ambition, his thirst to see his mother’s kingdom burned to ashes was the reason for him to get burned. 

I think, especially if I follow up on the previously mentioned plot of him getting more involved with the Montagues, that this has a good chance of getting him into serious trouble. After all, with Viola already being outed as a traitor to the Capulets, the stakes are higher than they’ve ever been before. After all, it only stands to reason the Capulets will be even more cautious now that they’ve found one mole in their midst. If there’s one, who says that there aren’t more? 

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes and no. It needs to be under the right circumstances and, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’d want to let him go for quite a while. In my eyes, it’d be a logical conclusion for him to die at some point as he’s just an arrogant boy throwing himself into a war against much older, more experienced people to burn everything his mother ever held dear down and rise as a god from the ashes. I wouldn’t be surprised if this hubris got him killed one day. However, I’d want him to make his mark first somehow. 

 IN DEPTH

muder tw, gore tw

Father, forgive me for I’ve sinned. 

Lips curl into the hint of a smirk as he lazily crosses his legs, right feet resting on his left thigh. The confessional box is just big enough for him to find a comfortable position and yet, his foot touches the dark wood of the wall separating him and the priest. And he cannot help but wonder if its main purpose is precisely that, making it almost impossible to find a comfortable position. 

If a god finds it necessary to intimidate his followers by forcing them to confess their sins in a state of uncomfortableness, he cannot be very intimidating in the first place, can he? 

“I’m afraid I didn’t get your question, padre, mi dispiace.” The words leave his mouth with honey-laced innocence, and while there is not a single hint of doubt in his mind that the priest will buy it right up, the curl of his lips colors their sincerity a lie. It’s almost a shame really, how the insincerity of this show is carefully concealed by the wood in between them, the small openings leaving just enough space for words to transfer back and forth between the two sections. 

Then again, what fun is it if you jump right to the end?

He has a grim business ahead one him, a gruesome duty, one he tells himself he doesn’t necessarily enjoy (except you do, a tiny voice whispers in the back of his mind, he chooses to ignore it). It’s something he needs to do. Betray him and you’ll pay the price, it’s a rule as simple as it can be and yet, one he’d enforce no matter what it’d take. Growing up with catholic foster parents, religion has always played a part in his life. He grew up to follow the Christian beliefs, to respect God and all his messengers on Earth. And yet, doing the Lord’s work won’t save the priest. His treason won’t go unpunished. 

For there is only one god in Cape Town and his name is Cyrus Sloane. 

“Tell me, son, do you regret your sins?” 

The priest’s voice is calm, patient, almost gentle. And yet, it causes him to flinch just slightly. For a small moment, so short and fleeting that it has passed in the blink of an eye, hesitation and doubt shadow his mind. Maybe he shouldn’t go on. If he takes this next step, there’s no turning back. He’ll cross a line drawn so deeply into the ground that it’s almost a canyon. If he crosses that line, he’ll truly be the monster some bold voices already call him out to be in hushed whispers behind his back.

Instinctively, he pushes his chin out just a little, jaw muscles tensing in defiance of the thought, 

Maybe if they didn’t want him to turn into a monster, they shouldn’t have crossed the simple rules he put up. Maybe they should have been smart enough to not try to bury a dagger in his back in the hope of hitting his heart.

Don’t they already know that it’s nothing but rotten flesh anyway? 

“Which one? The ones I’ve already committed or the ones I’ll still commit?” Casual yet empathetic words leave sensual lips with just a hint of amusement lying beneath. And yet, despite it all, there’s a kind of honesty, so sincere and authentic that it cannot be faked, to be found in them. Cyrus doesn’t regret the hard decisions he has to make nor the one he’ll still make in the future; power and the world as his kingdom are his birthrights, a god doesn’t care about the havoc that follows in his wake. And neither does he; if anything he opens it with open arms. And nonetheless, there were some lines that there were harder to cross as others.

The best lies and manipulations always have a ring of truth to them, but maybe that’s just another lie people tell themselves so they won’t have to be ashamed of their true feelings.  

“The ones you’ve already committed will do for now. Confess them and beg the Lord for His forgiveness so that with His grace I can grant you absolution for your sins and you can leave reborn in the light of His mercy.”

A soft chuckle, so full of light it’d put angels to shame, rings through the air, fingers brushing through golden curls lazily, head resting against the wall behind him. “I’m afraid those are more than I can count. If I recall them all, we’ll still sit here tomorrow and your god’s ears will bleed in terror.” 

But then again, the same god stood by and did nothing when his own mother abandoned him so maybe he’s crueler than he’d give him credit for.

Though he tries not to show it, in fact, tries his best to gloss over the priest’s patience is starting to grow thinner and thinner, no longer a sturdy thread of wool but more a silk thread hanging dangerously thin in the air. It’s as obvious to him like blood in the water to a shark, Cyrus feels just as drawn to it. Charm is his weapon of choice, an automatism if he dare say, and yet, there’s nothing quite as satisfying as seeing a grown man slowly but surely come undone. 

Figuratively as well as literally. 

“Do you regret them at least?”

For a moment there is silence, only the damp, cold air only filled by the soft sounds of quiet breathing. Cyrus takes a moment to answer, the tension growing thicker with every passing blink until it’s thick enough to cut. Feet light like a gazelle he stands up and with two decisive steps, long legs moving gracefully, he bridges the distance between them.

“Not really, no”, he says, looking down into the priest’s puzzled face, lips curled into an angelic smile.

It’s the same smile Lucifer must have worn when he stood in front of his creator, so terrifyingly beautiful it could kill the weak of heart.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to confess that I don’t regret any of them”, the smile still locked onto the priest like sharp shooter’s sight on his next target, he calmly pulls the knife out of its sheath carefully hidden by the backside of his Armani jumper and dark jeans. Though it becomes more obvious with every passing second what he’s intending to do, every movement is done in accurate precision without any hurry. 

He rules this town, there’s no need to hurry. Especially not considering how the priest stares at him like a fly caught in a spider net might at the slowly but surely approaching spider, fangs opening wider with every step it takes. 

“I’m not sure if there’s anything I need to confess”, he adds, posture straight and balanced like the king he was born to be, tone as charming as ever. If anybody was looking for a spark of lunacy in his dark eyes, they’d have to look forever for there is none. Cyrus Sloane isn’t crazy, this isn’t the act of an insane person who’s lost touch with all rationality. No, he knows exactly what he’s doing and doesn’t do it despite it but because of it. 

Head slightly cocked to the right, his gaze wanders over the priest’s face once more, soaking up the slowly rising panic like another might the smell of freshly baked cookies. 

It tastes just as sweet in his mouth.

“Che mi dici di te, padre? Is there anything you’d like to confess in front of your god?” 

Be it the one hanging on the cross at the other end up the church or the one standing right in front of him. 

His words leave a sense of finality in their wake, he knows they both can feel it. Good. As exhilarating as this little situation is, there’s only a small line between exhilarating and boring. 

The priest’s eyes open so wide that Cyrus is a little afraid they’re gonna burst. Now that would be mess he wouldn’t envy his dry cleaner having to get it out of his clothes again.  

“I’m sorry”, he starts to blather, regressing to a man half his size and age, eyes full of not yet spoken pleas for mercy. Mercy that won’t be granted, but he doesn’t know that, at least not yet. Soon he’ll find out while taking his dying breaths that this town has no mercy for those betraying its king. “I didn’t mean to…”

Before the old priest can finish his sentence, Cyrus cuts his throat with one swift, determined motion, blood bursting out like air out of a ballon as soon as the cut is made, spraying his formerly clean clothes.

He couldn’t care less.

Carefully, he wipes the blade clean with a handkerchief, the one innocent white cloth now tainted by the crimson red of treason, of revenge. He tucks it back into his pocket before stepping over the lifeless body without giving it another look, his face as unreadable as a dark, cloudy sky.

Father, forgive me for I’ve sinned. For deep down, I know I’ll do it again if I have to. Without any shame or regret. 

 Extras: You can find a pinterest board here.

[eldritchsurveys]

671.

Do you use wide ruled or college ruled notebooks? >> I always preferred college-ruled, like it was a hard rule for me when I was young. I refused to use wide-ruled paper. It was anathema. I still don’t care for it, but I don’t use paper much anymore, period, so it doesn’t matter.

On a pair of jeans, which pocket do you most use? >> The back right one, I guess, because I usually have my phone in there so I go in and out of it a lot.

Do you have a class ring? >> No.

What about a letterman jacket? >> No.

Do you still have a piggy bank? >> I don’t recall ever having one, tbh.

Is it actually shaped like a pig? >> ---

What is the name of the hospital you were born in? >> It was called Elizabeth General Medical Center when I was born, but now it’s been folded into a citywide system of hospitals all using the name “Trinitas”.

What is the legal drinking age of the country you live in? >> 21.

What type of internet browser are you using? >> Firefox.

What's your favorite search engine? >> Unfortunately, it’s Google. All the shit I hate about Google is the same exact shit that makes it so good as a search engine.

Are you a "Master Googler"? >> I don’t really know what that means. Honestly, it doesn’t take much cleverness to get what you want out of Google -- other search engines, on the other hand...

Do people often buy you photo albums when they don't know what else to buy? >> No. No one even uses photo albums these days.

Have you ever literally lent someone a shoulder to cry on? >> No.

How long do your showers typically last? >> Between five and ten minutes, usually skewing to the shorter end. I really just don’t like being in there, so I got real efficient at it.

What is the most annoying accent you've ever heard? >> ---

Have you ever seen a mariachi music video? >> No.

Have you ever watched a movie with the commentary? What about the subtitles? >> I’ve never watched a movie with the commentary on, but one day I might like to try that with a movie I’m already well familiar with, just to see if it’s interesting. I always watch things with the subtitles on, if I can help it.

What are your thoughts on re-constructive surgery? What about plastic surgery? >> I mean... they’re good things for people who want/need them? I don’t know what kind of opinion I’m supposed to have.

Or should people learn to love their flaws? >> Oh, that’s what you mean. No, I don’t think “people should learn to love their flaws” is an appropriate attitude for me to take. Especially since it’s not like I’m a paragon at unconditional self-acceptance or anything.

Do you style your hair regularly? >> I don’t style my hair at all.

What does your laundry basket/hamper look like? >> It’s round and purple.

Do you have a favorite word? What is it? >> There are words I like more than others, but I don’t think I have a favourite one or anything.

McDonald's sweet tea: Yes or No? >> No.

When was the last time you had a papercut? >> I don’t remember. I almost gave myself one earlier today, putting some papers into my tote bag.

What was the worst Halloween costume you ever had? >> ---

Is violence ever really the answer? >> Sure.

Do you have a favorite brand of pen? >> I don’t think so.

Do you enjoy the smell of sharpies? What about gasoline? Or even chlorine? >> I enjoy the smell of the first two, in moderation. Not chlorine, though.

Have you ever sung in a choir? If so, what section were you in? Bass, Tenor, Alto, Soprano? >> I was a soprano as a child, shifted into alto as a preteen, and I think now I’d be most comfortable as a tenor.

Did you ever pronounce bologna how it's spelled? >> Yeah, to be silly.

Are either of your parents in the medical field? >> No.

What about educational field? >> No.

Can you cry on cue? Do you wish you could? >> No, I can’t, and I don’t really care to.

Do you prefer gold or silver jewelry? >> Gold.

Have you ever shaved your arms? What about your stomach? >> No to arms, yes to stomach.

Facebook or Myspace? Which is your favorite? Or is there another one? >> I mean, only facebook is even relevant now. I don’t like it, though. I prefer to socialise here or on Discord.

Have you ever made a friendship bracelet? >> I don’t think so.

Have you ever been sledding on a real wooden sled with metal runners? >> No. I’ve never been sledding, period.

Are you allergic to any particular animals? What about foods? And medicines? Or are you one of the lucky ones who don't have any allergies? >> I am one of the lucky ones, yeah.

Did you or anyone you knew get swine flu? >> No.

Do you think that people caused global warming? Or is it more of a natural earth cycle thing? >> I think it’s a little of column B and a lot of column A.

Do you watch Curling during the Olympics? >> I don’t watch the Olympics.

Is bright red lipstick classy or trashy? >> It’s just lipstick.

Do the potential lovers you pursue typically have tattoos and piercings? >> ---

Do you like your teeth? Have you had any work done on them? >> I mean, they’re fine. They serve their purpose. No, I haven’t had work done on them.

Do you know what a lobotomy is? >> Sure.

Have you ever put ranch dressing on pizza? >> No.

Do you remember the purple and green colored ketchup from the 1990s? >> Ha, I do.

Have you ever taken a dance class? >> When I was a child. I wouldn’t mind taking one now, but I can’t afford stuff like that.

Do you ever actually buy CDs anymore or do you just download music? >> I just use Spotify. I’ve chosen the path of least resistance.

Who is prettier? Jennifer Love Hewitt or Megan Fox? What about Ellen Degeneres or Mariah Carrey? >> None of these people even cross my radar when it comes to aesthetically pleasing faces.

Have you ever been to failblog.org? >> No.

Do you own a guitar? >> No.

Do you pop your knuckles? >> Sometimes.

Do all of your photos in yearbooks usually turn out looking terrible? >> All of them did until senior year, weirdly enough.

Did you have uniforms at your high school? >> No.

How often do you dust your room? >> I don’t. I probably should, but it just never occurs to me.

Do you ever use Febreez? >> No.

Have you ever been to Japan? What about Germany? Or Mexico? >> No.

Does your family ever take fun vacations? >> ---

Where was the last place you went on vacation? >> New Orleans.

Have you ever seen a castle in real life? If you said no, please note that the castles at Disney parks count. =D >> There’s an apartment complex near me called the Grand Castle and it’s just the most plastic-toy-castle looking thing I’ve ever seen. Hold on, here’s what it looks like...

It looks fake, or like one of those photos that plays with perspective and scale, where it’s actually a Lego castle or something. But nope, it’s an apartment complex. smh. Anyway, no, I’ve never seen a legitimate castle in real life.

Do you remember the first book you read by yourself? >> No.

Did you ever read R. L. Stine's Goosebumps books? >> Yep, I read a lot of those as a kid.

What about Lemony Snicket's "A Series of Unfortunate Events" books? >> I didn’t even hear of those until I was grown.

Have you ever seen a nun in public? >> Sure. One time back in the day, Sigma and I ran into a couple of nuns on Eighth Avenue and Sigma talked to them for a solid hour. They were... very accommodating.

Have you ever heard of a musician named Priscilla Renea? >> No.

Have you seen the Austin Power's movies? >> I think I saw the first one. This was a long time ago, though. I couldn’t sit through five minutes of one now.

Do you, or did you ever, have a Gameboy? >> No, I’ve never had one.

Are you sitting in a rolley chair? >> Nope.

Were you a Nancy Drew reader when you were younger? >> I wasn’t.

Do you think Twilight is losing lots of original fans because of the movie? >> It didn’t appear that way to me, but I also wasn’t in the fandom so I wouldn’t really know for sure.

Do you think Zombieland was like an American version of Shaun of the Dead? >> I mean, in the sense that it is a comedy film about zombies, sure, why not. But really, they’re just in the same subgenre of movie, is all. They’re their own things.

Have you ever ice skated? What about roller skated? >> I’ve done the latter but never the former.

Do you have a video camera? What about a digital camera? Webcam? >> There’s a camera on my phone, and there’s one in both my computers but I never use those.

What is your preferred instant messaging service? >> Discord.

Do you enjoy being in photos? Or do you prefer taking the photos? >> I prefer taking them.

Know anyone named Gus? >> Sparrow’s former cat was named Gus.

Do you know anyone who seems to break EVERYTHING they touch? >> Nope.

Are giraffe's weird animals? >> They are and I dig it.

[chwrpg]

Murray, I have asked you repeatedly not to call me "woman".

A NOTE FROM ADMIN R: Oh, oh, oh ! Y’all don’t know how happy I am to be accepting this application. Dylan is truly one of my CHW faves and to have her taken up by you, Cailin... that’s just an honor. I can not wait to see what you do with her, but I know one thing... this dash ain’t ready fro the looks Dylan is about to serve us. Thank you so much for applying and welcome back, love !

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

cailin, (she/her), 25, est

DESIRED CHARACTER:

queen mother, dylan davenport

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

8-10

SECONDARY CHOICE:

taylor flick

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

Dylan is shrouded in beauty, bold fashion choices, witty comebacks, and her daddy’s debit card. But the woman wearing the Amina Muaddi heels to 7/11 is much more interesting than her out of this world clothes. If Chanel’s head is in the clouds, Dylan’s feet are planted on the ground. She’s the fuel to the fire, the one who gets shit done. Things don’t move without her — and that includes the fashion scene in Rosewood. Dylan could’ve been a surgeon, she has the brains and attention to detail for it, but, you see, what Dylan says or doesn’t say goes. She predicted high waist jeans making a comeback before Vogue did, telling the girls one day during first period. So she’s a bit of a culture oracle. It’s why people care about what she’s thinking, who she’s endorsing, what designers she’s buying. They even want to know what she’s watching on a monday night. Her confidence and sincerity is inspiring. When she’s not taste making though, she’s the loyalest, most straightforward friend you can find in her tax bracket. Balancing the thin line between being no-nonsense and fun to be around. She does it well, though. In fact, she does most things well (driving not included.)‌ Her peers boast about her style and charisma, her professors brag about her work ethic and creativity, her boyfriend….well, her love life is a tumultuous roller coaster but every icon needs a fixer upper. Plus she gets diamonds every time he fumbles.

SAMPLE WRITING:

( Alexa, play Daddy )

The day Dylan was born she became a daddy’s girl. Stevie Wonder could see it. Dada was her first word much to her mother’s chagrin. He never raised his voice at her, never got impatient with her when she spilled her juice or threw her food. He got up in the middle of the night so his wife wouldn’t have to even though he had meetings at 7 in the morning. It didn’t stop there, though. Mr. Davenport didn’t put her down at parties. He carried her around on his hip as he mingled and held court, demanding on no one use baby talk for his brilliant baby girl. “She’s smart like her mom.” He would say to his captivated audience. For her third birthday he rented out an entire amusement park. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t yet tall enough to ride the rides, she had asked for it so he made it happen. He was a doer and a fixer, but he wasn’t perfect. Mr. Davenport had always been a better father and provider than a husband.

So, when she was five, her parents went through a nasty divorce. The papers their lawyers drew up cited irreconcilable differences but she’d come to realize, many years later, that was just how rich people skirted around the truth in hopes of keeping people out of their business. In truth, Mr. Davenport had spent the better part of his career sleeping with secretaries, temps, and clients. Basically anything that was of age and not nailed down. Mrs. Davenport had only grown tired of it after watching Halle Berry cry over Eric Benet  on Oprah. But like she’d taught  Dylan, Mrs. Davenport thought three steps ahead, and had arranged to have a cheating clause in their prenup. She saw the board before she’d even stepped foot on it. And, Sure, they’d been in love when they got married at twenty three, but a cheater never changed its spots, just his lies. In an instant, she got half of everything. Twenty percent of his future earnings, and 360 lipo for a girls trip to Maui to celebrate her emancipation.

All Dylan got out of the deal was two houses, two birthdays, two Christmases, two cars she still couldn’t drive when she turned sixteen. The court awarded them joint custody, ruling they both had enough sense to figure out the schedule on their own. But since that was the year her mom went back to school for her PhD, Dylan spent the majority of her time with her dad and a nanny. Those double holidays also served as a good distraction from the heartbreak she couldn’t explain. Though she was sharp as a whip and actually funny, not laugh because it’s a kid funny, but really funny, she still couldn’t wrap her little mind around why her parents drove to separate houses at the end of the night now. At all those parties, what stuck out the most was everyone saying what a handsome couple they were, how lucky they were to have another. They danced and laughed. They seemed so happy. But looks are deceiving and lucky for her, the loneliest year of her young life was also the year she met her best friend.

( Alexa, play Wannabe )

Dylan and Chanel became an instant package deal, and she thanked her father for not being able to keep his dick out of seedy holes because she wouldn’t have went to school in another district if her mom hadn’t won the house in the divorce, and she wouldn’t have sat down next to Chanel at show and tell, and they wouldn’t have bonded over their pretty dresses, or shared their organic apple juice. God worked in mysterious ways like that. She had a partner for life, and nothing came between them. Not even boys. And, despite having the power to date any eligible bachelor in her grade, she really liked one in particular.

The day she brought Paxton home her took one look at him and chuckled. Dylan figured it was because of the grill he hadn’t learned to talk without slurring with yet, but her mother had other ideas. “He reminds me of your father.” She said, long after he’d gone home, but not before Dylan spent fifteen minutes walking him to his car. The driveway was super long but her lipstick was nonexistent when she returned. That didn’t matter though, because Dylan knew what that meant. Her mom thought Paxton was charming, likable, handsome — but she also knew he was a liar and a dog. They argued for well over an hour, and she said some things she regretted but that’s what teenage girls did, they rebelled against becoming their mother all while doing so. She didn’t realize just how much he was like her father until she caught him DMing other girls on instagram and got a diamond necklace out of the deal. Still, it was clear that he could shoot a man in broad daylight and she would always be daddy’s little girl, nothing could change that.

“Daddy!” Dylan whined, clinging to her dad’s arm as they traipsed through another commercial property with their real estate agent. Today was the day she was finally going to buck up and switch locations from her dad’s pool house to an office space in scenic, downtown Rosewood. Being interviewed by magazines had been life changing, sitting front row of the hottest runways next to A-listers had its perks, doing a skincare routine video for vogue was dope, but expanding her business because the calls wouldn’t stop coming in to be styled be Dylan and her associates? That was something she’d done herself from the ground up. She’d started with styling her friends and now she was going to style the world.

( Alexa, play Successful )

Her heels were tall enough to greet God but she still only reached his shoulder. “I hope this one has vaulted ceilings.” Her tone was way past passive aggressive. She would’ve dialed it back had their agent not been set to make serious bank off of this, but had only been showing them office spaces with disgusting lighting and rude doormen. For all of their sakes, she hoped this one was better. “I need two sessions of hot yoga after the last mess you showed us, at least. My chakras are all out of wack now. Thanks a lot, A.” She was being dramatic but her dad didn’t stop her. He just smiled that infamous smile at the agent and excused himself to the back of the elevator to take a call. Dylan rolled her eyes when she caught their real estate agent, Angela, fawning. She was a slender woman with the proportion of a fashion model who only modeled in theory, never practice. With cropped hair and full lips. She’d been their families real estate agent for decades, found the house her mom had one in the divorce, but Dylan couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d slept with her dad while he was married to her mom, and for that she hated her.

The light dinged to signal they were at their floor, and the elevator doors slid open. When she bothered lifting them from a lengthy text she was typing to her beau, her eyes lit up like when her dad gifted her a patek for her eighteenth, or the G-Wagon that was still collecting dust in the garage for her sixteenth. Whatever the occasion was, she was aglow just like then. The floors were European oak, all the walls were white sans a charcoal accent wall that would be the space of her future desk, and yes, the ceilings were vaulted with windows to match. It was beyond.

“Daddy!” She squealed, running around the space and dreaming up renovation ideas. “This is the one. It’s, like, perfect.” Dylan ignored the real estate agent when she repeated the price tag. 1.2 million may have been a lot for some people, but some people weren’t his little girl and Angela should have known that by now. “Wait. I need to call Chanel!”‌ Dylan could bet she’d be calling Chanel the day Play got down on one knee ( What?‌ A girl could dream ) before she even said yes. She was greeted with a selfie when she unlocked her phone, tapping her chanel platform sneaker clad foot against the wood while the facetime call connected, “What do you think about staining the floor another color?” She asked before absolutely beaming when Chanel’s face appeared on the screen.

“I found it! I found the perfect space.”‌ Without another word, she flipped the camera and did a little dance when Chanel’s excitement nearly exceeded hers. She knew a squeal of absolute glee when she heard one, “I know! Ok, so Just imagine a chaise here, we can install some shelves here. Do you think we can get a Prosecco fountain?…” She walked her through the office like Angela had done moments before, moving out of earshot so her dad could handle business, while they discussed all the possibilities. “Today an office with a view, tomorrow Dylan Davenport’s Fashion Academy,” she beamed.

All her daddy had to do was sign on the dotted line, and she knew he would. He was, after all, her doer. He wouldn’t dare break that illusion…right? The journey from the bathroom back to the main area of the office space was a short one, and she was all smiles until she rounded the corner only for her dream to turn into a nightmare. Her face cracked along with the screen of her phone as it hit the ground and shattered, “DADDY!” She screamed. The sight of her dad and Angela kissing over paperwork causing her to gag instantly.

“Honey, let me explain…..”

There was nothing to explain. Horrible step parents was Jasper’s lane, not hers.

( Alexa, play Ring Off )

ANYTHING ELSE?

1985.

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

Smoke & Trouble I

—

The sound of brass instruments and the disjointed drumming of a jazz beat filled the paved street as the automobile pulled to a stop on the opposite corner to the once rundown building. The windows were frosted and opaque, with only the fuzzy shadows of silhouettes moving behind them being visible through them alongside the yellow glow of the lighting inside. The facade had finished its repaint the previous week, dark charcoal tones offset by the golden lettering of the establishment’s name above the door. The Fort had been reborn like a pheonix from the ashes two years earlier.

The blond man opened the door to his drivers seat, slipping from the vehicle quietly as he reached into the backseat to withdraw the dark cane with only the slightest orante detailing visible under his palm and the silver point digging into the gaps between the stone pavement. He drew his cap lower over his face as he made his way towards the building, cane clicking on the stones as he moved aong the busy street.

The city had changed significantly within the last two years - factories growing larger and larger, the slums spreading further and further, and Small Heath building up from the slums to the epicentre of power for the underbelly of the city. The Faceless Shadows had grown along with it, their numbers expanding and their reach with the assistance of their alliances to the Catholics in the north and the successful intergration of legitimate gambling licences and investments through the Visyak Family Ltd with the Shadows other lines of work building them into the untouchable controllers of Birmingham and those smaller towns and cities nearby.

Michael lit a cigarette as he walked towards the pub, which had been the very first of the legitimate Visyak Family investments prior to its destruction. Two years had been a long time to rebuild the facility, however other elements had to be addressed first, other areas had to be rebuilt first, other hurts had to be healed first. The blond man rested his weight upon the cane as he made his way inside, the warm glow off of the golden trims drenching his hair golden too.

It had been two years since that week when everything had changed for them, and limping his way across to the private room, still private and left for Shadow business, Michael knew that nothing had diluted the power he held in this space. A limp from the gun shot to his thigh, where two inches further left would have had him bleeding out on the dusty country road, did nothing but add to the dangerous edge to the Shadow leader.

His brother’s and son were all already seated around the tables in the back room, drinks before them and a space awaiting his arrival.

“Good first night of business, boys?” “It would be if Ian’s girl hadn’t been allowed to choose the music.” “Nothing wrong with the new sound, Uncle Jeff-” “It’s a goddamn fucking racket is what it is.” “Yeah, but look out there what it gets them girls doing.”

Michael slid into his seat with a sigh as uncle and nephew began bickering for the tenth time that month since the newest addition to the family had begun suggesting ideas, expressing opinions and talking back to the older Shadow. Looking out the open door to the open areas of the pub, whereby a group of young women including the dark haired wife of the youngster were all dancing freely as would never have occurred even two years prior. Amongst the crowd, Shada was clearly visible dancing with a champagne flute in hand.

“Jackson…” Michael growled out the word with a raised brow at their sister’s antics, and the youngest of the brother’s got up wordlessly to collect the girl for a drink at the bar instead.

Jeffrey’s arguments appeared to dull at the sight of the gyrating women, skirts flapping about their thights and laughter filling the pub in such a way that had not been heard in the area since before even the war. His son’s blue eyes were fixated upon where his new wife Lenore was dancing within the crowd as well. Michael had not particularly approved the pair, but all were allowed their childish mistakes, and Michael had made his own at his boy’s age. The wedding had been quick and quiet as it had been his own twenty years ago, though the pair had been practically inseperable for the last four months. By Ian’s age, he already had a wife with the boy on her hip, and the way the two were going, the whole family expected similar news soon enough.

Letting out a stream of smoke, Michael surveyed what he could see of the pub, styled after the extravogent clubs flooding London and drawing the eye of those with either too much money or too little sense, with too many nightmares and stresses and a desire to escape from the grit and grime of the daily toil.

Destroying the old to make way for the new world, Michael knew the destruction of the original Fort under the guise of arsonist’s of their home had paved the way for the Shadows into the modern day. Flexing his weak leg under the table, he knew that week so many weeks ago had pushed the whole family forward despite the set backs of it, and this grand reopening of The Fort renamed as it was in respect as Harry’s Fortress would be the next push for them all.

—

Sunday race days were back to being one of his favourite days of the week. Usually it meant an early rise with whomever was the lady of choice the previous night - be her a new conquest or one of his old faithfuls - and a hot breakfast of tea and whiskey to fight off the accumulating hangover. Then he’d don his favourite Sunday suit, the one that allowed for the most ease of movement, and was dark enough to hide any unsightly stains that may occur throughout the day. And then onto the races, either north or to the west depending on the month, to crack down on his boys’ and spend the afternoon drinking and smoking with the leader of the Catholics in the bar on site while their coins would roll in.

He was up to that point today, and returning to their table towards the side of the dance floor where both men could survey those around them as well as keep a wall at their backs, Jeffrey sank into his chair with a smirk - glass sat carefully upon the wood table top ignoring the coaster for it completely.

“Just heard from the boys that all is looking well for the day. None of those fucking Black Eye boys trying to cause a fuss this week, and plenty of wagers to make us all happy.”

“Some of us happier than others, too. That horse of yours back on it’s winning streak today?” Gabriel smirked back, his own glass almost empty. The exasperated look from his wife as he sat his drink back down on the table top was clear that she thought he had had enough and it had barely past midday. "How much that horse won for you Shadows since you got him? You looking at adding a new one to the roster yet?”

Jeffrey frowned at that comment, not sure what to make of it before shrugging a shoulder as he looked out at the floor of dancing couples. Not the same as had begun taking over the Fort since the reopening, but the traditional stiff movements and old fuddy duddys with no rhythym. “You’d have to ask one of the others about those for an exact answer but pretty sure it’s paid for Ma’s new house-”

“Didn’t she move in with that copper?” “Ex-copper. Bloke bloody retired last year, such a shame, would have been useful having the head ‘form on the books.” “If you boys are ever in trouble, make sure to ask for Dean Winchester - Castiel’s got him on the books good and solid.”

The dark haired man gave a sharp nod at the other’s comments, well aware the recently appointed Chief Constable was on the Catholics payroll. There had been rumours of it being more than money changing hands, however there had been even more rumours of what happened to those who shared those whispers. He tipped his head back, finishing the remains of his glass with a smirk, returned to the table beside the other’s empty glass as well.

“Regardless, that pretty pony has more than made up for it’s cost.”

“Has it now? It’s full cost, huh.” The words surprised the Shadow from the usually silent woman, her red lips pulled into a knowing smirk. There was something truly smug in her look, and a dark sense to the words as Kali looked across at him. “Dear, my glass is empty. Could you?”

“Of course, mon amour.” Gabriel rose to his feet quickly at the query, his own face studiously blank as if not reacting to his wife’s original comments at all. He disappeared into the crowd of dancers in the general direction of the bar without another word, nor a concerned look at all at leaving the woman with the known hothead.

Jeffrey however reacted much more slowly to the pointed comment, hand digging into his jacket pocket for a smoke as he looked at the dark skinned beauty carefully. Lighting up, he leant back in his chair with an air of feigned disinterest. “The cost was paid for within the first two races from what I recall-”

“I asked about it’s full cost, not the pounds put out for it.” “What else did it cost than pounds then?” “I have not seen your younger brother at the races in almost two years, is that right? And from what I have heard, there were some additional items exchanged related to the animal.” “Where would you have heard that from?”

The Indian woman simply shrugged a shoulder, red stained lips stretched wide in a vindictive smile as she looked back at him. Jeffrey could feel his free hand, the one not flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette, clenching into a tight fist at her smug non-response. He was not above hitting a woman if it was required, and the self-satisfied look made him think it may well become required any moment soon.

“I would imagine that you Shadows would have learned by now between your sister, that whore and your own mother to stop underestimating a woman’s power, Jeffrey.” Kali’s tone was almost acidic in her softly accented voice, as the goddess stood up at her husband’s approach. Circling an arm around his shoulder and planting a kiss on his cheek, the woman shot Jeffrey one more knowing smirk before making her way into the crowds with her champagne in hand.

“What has my wife done now?” Gabriel’s worn tone smoothed some of the fury Jeffrey had begun to feel, eyes trying to follow where the dark haired woman disappeared to but losing her quickly.

“Loose lips sink ships, Gabriel, and it seems your wife’s lips are extremely loose.” Jeffrey growled back, accepting the glass of whisky from the other with a scowl. “Might want to look into that.”

—

The pair were the only two still remaining in the office suite that evening as dusk had been left far behind and the streets had been swallowed entirely by the darkness of true night. Visyak Family Ltd had some of the most impressive offices in the city, dark mahogany and crisp leather providing cover for the darker secrets of the business’ legitimate and illegitimate dealings, and only the two men were all that remained of the work force as the clocks approached midnight.

Jackson rubbed tiredly at his eyes for a moment as he looked down at the small sheaf of papers detailing their planned trip into the city to the finite detail he always maintained for such activities. The planning for all eventualities, the carefully compiled dossier on their prospective partner and all those connected to him, the rows and rows of calculations on how to achieve the goal as profitably as possible.

The other man was sat across the desk from him, copying word for word each page passed to him into the thick black leather journal for their trip. The writing was cramped, tiny and dark with the odd ink splotch getting on the corners of the pages.

As the clock moved to strike one, the pair finally rested back in their chairs as the last dot and slash was finished, and the file was tucked away safely in the locked cabinet.

The dark haired man collected two glasses, pouring a large splash of brown liquor into each as he moved to sit down on his side of the desk again. His office was not as spacious nor well outfitted as his older brothers’ - the third best office for the third brother after all, despite his ideas, his ambitions and his careful planning being the true factor behind their success. His office may not be the best, but as both men sipped at their drink, Jackson did not bite down the smile at the knowledge that his office had the best alcohol by far.

“So, now all we need is a cover story for our London jaunt.” He said with a sigh, blue eyes closing tightly as he reclined back in his leather desk chair as if closing them would be enough to heal the strain of another late night in the dimly lit room reading and writing files.

“What possibilities have you come up with thus far, Jacky?” The other man, his right hand man in all ways in the last two years quietly. Richard ‘The Wolf’ Amon had grown quickly in the years since his faked death. His head still rung with the sounds of war on more occasions than he would like, however he had been accepted into the business more fully than he had in past. The tasks and drive giving the man something to focus on other than the screams of the incoming detonations.

“Ma is due back this weekend from her... vacation, perhaps that could be an excuse to accompany her return.” “Bit late notice wouldn’t it be?” “Perhaps...”

Jackson frowned slightly as he shared a look of exasperation with the culry haired man across from him. The whole success of this meeting was hinged upon being able to successfully organise, orchestrate and operate the plan without the knowledge of the rest of the family. That the hour was so late, that both had been working non-stop for four hours on the practical and future elements of this venture did not excuse their inability to craft an acceptable lie to conceal their actions within. Blue eyes stared into the brown liquid of his glass as if they were hiding the last piece to his puzzle, just below the reflective surface.

“Would your sister wish to go to London? Maybe we could chaperone her.” Amon questioned quietly, eyes diverted towards the only window in the room as if not wanting to meet the others eye. The man had taken his one-time assignment watching over the only girl of the Visyak family to be a long-term task; often found following the girl about Small Heath or the rest of Birmingham as if he was her own shadow. It was not uncommon to see the dark haired pair, with the curly-haired man carrying an umbrella for the other, or her outter coat thrown over his arm when the sun came out. “You’d like that wouldn’t you.”

The pair lapsed into an awkward silence at that point, one of the men flushed and focussed upon his drink to avoid responding; the other focussed more upon how to hide his business travel into the city from the rest of the family. His meeting was not for the Visyak Family books nor the Faceless Shadows ledgers yet; until an arrangement and agreement made, this could not appear anywhere in the official or unofficial accounts, nor had he discussed his plans at any family meetings since he had first begun investigating the opportunity.

Much like with that horse and those godforsaken guns, this was part of Jackson Visyak’s personal and private goals to achieve. Part of his secret goals to step out from beneath the ever reaching shadows of his older brother’s - a cog in the machine designed to allow him his own emancipation from Michael’s controlling behaviour and Jeffrey’s dark reputation. If he, the youngest, the smallest, the runt of the family could pull this together, Jackson would never again stand beneath anyone in his family and eventually the whole nation. Never again would someone look at him and remember his failings.

“Perhaps Shada would enjoy a trip to the city...”

—

It was a typically wet English day, dreary weather and grey clouds with the never ending cold that would soak straight into your bones the moment the drizzle would start. The clouds were dark and threatening to let loose their bounty, but it had kept off thus far as the couple stepped off of the train and were waved to cheerfully by the two smiling women that had come to see their return.

“Ma!” “Elle!” “Girls!”

The greetings came loud and happy as Eleanor released her husband’s hands to embrace her daughter and granddaughter-in-law tightly. Both girls had become close friends in the last year since the engagement, and Eleanor was so pleased to find that that had not changed while she was away enjoying her travels abroad.

As Eleanor pulled back from the hugs, she smiled to herself as Shada threw herself at her new step-father to likewise greet the typically grumpy man. Robert Singer was well known for his perpetually existing frown, however that had not stopped the dark haired girl from treating him like a member of the family the moment he had slipped the golden band on her mother’s finger. The man had grumbled about it at length the week before they left for the continent, but Eleanor could always see the small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth under the scruff when he would do so.

There was a cough from behind the giggling girls, and Eleanor found herself quickly covered by a large umbrella moments before the downpour began.

“Thank you, Richard dear.” “You’re welcome, Mrs Visyak- uh.. Singer?”

Smiling at the typically nervous boy in response, the older woman found her arm threaded through her husband’s as the quintet made their way out of the station and into the shiny black Pierce-Arrow awaiting them. The car was new, Eleanor did not recall it being in the collection just two months ago, and as the five made their way to the elegant house Eleanor and her now husband had moved into before their honeymoon began she spotted the rest of the fleet of vehicles ranging from the old Chalmers from four years earlier, to the Buick’s her son’s frequently drove around in, to the one Rolls Royce Michael had indulged himself in after the injury. Something about making a classic impression with a modern design. The vehicle maketh the man, or some such rot.

“Is the whole family here to greet us?” The grumbled words came from the man in front seat, the cap upon his head pulled down further over his forehead as he seemed to shrink into the seat. Her husband never appreciated being the cente of attention. She knew first hand that while he could be charming, confident and downright commanding in the right circumstances, that being faced with her entire brood and their collective expanding circle of quasi-family members was not one of those circumstances. “Thought they’d be...getting ready for a race or something.”

“Races aren’t until Sunday, silly! Plus, we all wanted to welcome you home good and proper.” Eleanor watched as her daughter replied haughtily, though the sweet smile on her face as she leant forward to wrap an arm around the man’s shoulder belied the potential condescending nature of her words. “Jacky and Amon also had to run by my trip with the others, so we figured why not a family meeting too.”

Eleanor felt the blood rush from her face at that, eyes wide as she clambered from the car with the assistance of the young man who’d driven them. He then turned his attention to helping the other girls from the car, following the pair into the house ahead of the newlyweds.

“They’ve called a family meeting already?” “Guess we’re throwing you in the deep end, love.” “Thought I was through with this when I retired. They do know retirement is supposed to be peaceful...” “I’m sure that this year will be more peaceful than the last.”

“Last year your eldest was still healing from getting shot in some unknown incident he still will not share the details about, your middle boy was in jail almost as much as out, and your youngest-”

Eleanor coughed loudly as Robert appeared to be working himself up into one of his infamous rants, hands tugging this way and that at his cap as if unable to reach a comfortable point with it. Her own hands reached for his as they stood on the path leading towards the door and the madness that was her family behind it.

“Love, this year... this year will be our year. Our chance to start anew together, our new life together. It will be the start of our story, and we will not dwell on the troubles of the past.” She spoke firmly, fingers weaving through his, and the older man smiled ruefully at her optimism.

Pressing a kiss to her lips that sent butterflies through her as they always did, Eleanor sighed softly in response to the man’s gruff response, “I wish that could be, Elle’, I wish that for you.”

—

The music was loud. Loud enough to make the crystal chandeliers shake and shiver in time with the giddy crowd circling beneath it in exhuberant movements. If she looked close enough at the dark corners around the room, it would be clear dancing and drinking were not the only activities being engaged in that night within the private club. In the quiet swells of the unpredictable jazz tunes filling the building, the sounds of moans, groans and the occasional scream could be heard from those secret and almost private spaces.

The dark haired girl was not there for those engagements however. The Marie Antoinette glasses used by the premises suited the glamour the club tried to present, while also maintaining the seductive streak, that gentle brush against what a good girl would be seen engaging in and what she wouldn’t. Lifting her glass to her lips, crystal cold against her lips, and the deep plum lipstick mark of her kiss left upon it as she turned to watch the revellers, eyes wide and drinking in the sights like her lips drank down the French wine.

So many luxurious fabrics, so many golden accents and illuminated refractions danced around the room alongside the dancers themselves; bathing the darkness in the rainbow and sucking the eye away from the secret engagements.

When her brother and Amon had suggested a trip to the city, she was certain they had not intended to for her to go to a place such as this. She was certain if her brother could see where she was, he would have her in the backseat of his Buick heading back to Birmingham within moments. His friend would not have allowed her within the lobby itself, let alone through to the main room of the club. If Jeffrey were the brother, he would be in one of the booths with his cock being sucked and a glass in each hand without a care at all at her presence. If it were Michael.. well, Michael never suggested anything of interest any more.

Sighing, Shada turned back to the bar itself as she finished her drink and flagged down the barman for another.

“I am glad to see I am not the only woman, unaccompanied, this evening.” The voice spoke from beside her, a gentle Russian accent gliding over the words like the silks both women wore.

The woman had a look of amusement on her face, her dark eyes rimmed in black liner and lips a bloody red. Her dark hair was amassed around her head in waves, and there was a modern headpiece band across her forehead. It shone in the dim light, the beautiful diamonds and rubies decorating the silver looking almost as if they were real.

Shada’s eyes focussed upon their glimmering, if they were real, this woman was about to become her new best friend.

“Seems that there were quite a few of us earlier.” “Yes, it does seem that way. Perhaps we are arriving late to the party.” “All the acceptable men appear to have-” “Made their way to secluded places with the less pretty women?”

Shada found herself smiling at the woman’s comment, flicking her own hair back from her shoulder as she turned her full attention to the other woman. “Nice to meet you, I’m Shada Visyak.”

“Ruby Tolstoy, please to meet you.” The slightly disjointed words came out with a friendly smile from the Russian as the barman returned to fill both womens glasses. “I am happy to meet lady much as myself.”

Shada smirked a little in return, twisting in her chair and recrossing her legs as she looked the other woman over. Aside from the extremely expensive looking headpiece, she appeared to also have excellent taste in clothes as much as she herself did. Both women had on stylish dresses, with delicate beading over the intricate lace work, and if Shada was not mistaken the other’s silk slip beneath her overdress was almost as good as her own. The Shadow was drapped in black silk, black mesh and black lace with deep purple beading; while the Russian was in a deep red ensemble. However while the other had the beautiful headpeice that had recently come into style, her own neck was adorned with long silver chains and pearls instead of diamonds and rubies.

“Perhaps you like dance together instead of with pitiful men not worth dirt beneath foot?”

“You would not have to ask me twice!” Shada smiled back at the other, as she tapped her glass to the others with a clink. The pair finished the most recent round of champagne, each savouring the bubbles as much as one can, before both girls rose to their feet.

Taking a hold of the other woman’s hand, Shada weaved the pair of them towards the dancefloor to join in the spirited mass of bodies, to move to the music, to lose hours into the early hour of the morning when the sun would rise and dye the sky red.

—

“Welcome to me bakery. We bake the brown bread, we bake the white bread, we make the best bread in London, you know.” The cheery sounding words were matched by the warm smile and the open arm gestures about the factory as he was guided through into it’s depths. The smell of molasses surrounded them, thick and sticky in the air, clogging up Jackson’s nose as they moved through the busy distilery. “Over ten thousand loaves a week, we bake. Anything like this up in your little back country sticks?”

“Not to this extent,” he replied, hands tucked into his coat pockets as the pair stopped at a table littered with bottles and glasses. Jackson looked about old factory, the store room with the curved red bricks above them filled with barrels in each store section. “Ten thousand a week you say?”

“Between the bread and the other bread, ten thousand.” The shorter Jewish man replied back, waving a hand at the table. “Want to try some of me wares? Brown or white?”

“Brown.” “Brown it is. Be a good lad, pour ‘im some brown would you. What you think of that, mate?”

Jackson waited for the nameless man behind the table to pour a splash into a glass, before trying the warming brown drink. Rum was not his preference, but it was a desirable asset in the America’s, even more so now that there was the loom of prohibition. Real whiskey would always be worth more, but the mark ups would lose their chance for a wider market.

“Not bad...” “Not bad? What fuckin’ bullshit. Brown bread is for the workers, it’s trash, awful stuff that is. White is for the bosses.” “Got to know where you come from, Mr. Gallagher.” “True that, true that. Come’on then lets get down to real business.”

Andy Gallagher lead the pair back towards the office in the back corner of the factory. Away from the cloying scent of cooking sweet sugar mixes, away from the heat of the distilery spires. Away from the downcast eyes of the factor workers. The shorter man did not make an exceptionally threatening look to him, scruffy hair and a somewhat unkempt beard, shorter stature and a stained white shirt with his waist coat and apron just as brown with dirt and signs of work. However the hard set of his jaw, the few dark patches of ink visible on his skin where the sleeves were pushed up and the way none of his workers even dared look up at his passing, made it clear he was not a pushover.

Entering the office, the Jewish man moved straight for his seat behind the desk, and Jackson ambled in behind him. Sliding his jacket off and throwing it over the back of the chair before it, before sitting down himself. Lighting up a cigarette, he pinned the other with a piercing look.

“You boys from Birmingham..I’ve heard some very bad, bad things about you lot.” “I came here to discuss business with you, Mr. Gallagher. You are no squeaky clean operation here yourself, so..” “Eh that is true, business it is then.”

Both men raised a brow at one another, one appearing calm and relaxed as the king of his own castle, golden chains around his wrists and fings on his fingers glinting in the lantern light, while the other appeared to sink into the darkness of the underlit room, dark suit and darker hair hidden in the shadows his group were named for.

“You’re in the losing side of a war here, Mr. Gallagher, against the Reapers and those new witches alike.” “A war ain’t over till it’s over, mate. You’ve been in wars, you know this.” “Our war is over, it’s your war now - and we could be of great assistance in yours. You need to be more realistic.”

The baker’s eyes fashed slightly, a small frown forming on his face as he leant forward in his chair, elbows resting atop the desk surface as he surveyed the other. Jackson merely stared back, steely blue eyes taking in everything and not reacting as the other man seemed to slid into his own thought process.

“Realistic?!” “If you weren’t in a war, you wouldn’t have sent that telegram last month.” “That was just a friendly ‘hello’ of all things-” “Look, you are losing here. Your distilery makes up ten percent of your takings, another ten is in security and the rest is from the race tracks right? You’re not going to like what I have to say, Mr Gallagher-” “Andy if you’re goin’ to be rubbin’ me this closely, sweetie.”

Jackson bit down a growl at the man’s interruption and his cavalier, crass words, though the wave of the baker’s man for him to continue allowed him a sigh. “Your bookies are getting chased off the tracks, we can help with that. The premises that take your rum are getting closed down, we can help with that. People not trusting your protection any more, we can help with that. And all we ask in return is a partnership.”

“We can help, aye?” Andy Gallagher’s eyes lit up at that, a grin sliding across his face as he fished a bottle of whiskey from the drawer of his desk. “And where is the rest of this we, Mr. Visyak. Where is the rest of your collective Visyak Family, huh? Where are those little Shadows that storm about Birmingham, eh?”

“I am the one you are working with, Mr. Gallagher, and you will come to see just what I can achieve for the both of us.”

—