#robot transition on its own is already fun to think about
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adastrabbit · 2 months ago
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vaguely mid transition-y CAM doodle trying to use 1px brush more effectively. i love women
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subliminalbo · 3 months ago
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Bo Listens to the Entire Discographies of His Favorite Bands In 2025: The Flaming Lips Recap
Favorite Album I don't expect this category to change much with each band I listen to, since I've already got my favorites for a reason. This category is not for hot takes or unpopular opinions. With The Flaming Lips, The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots are both 1a and 1b and it depends on the day which I like better. I think, ultimately, I prefer The Soft Bulletin on most days for its earnestness and lack of a conceptual hook. It stands on its own, while songs like "Race for the Price" and "Waitin' for a Superman" are as important to the band's canon as Yoshimi's "Do You Realize??"
Least Favorite Album Their debut album, Hear It Is, doesn't feature many of the staples that make The Flaming Lips so special. Coyne's soft vocals and his instinct for experimentation are missing here. Instead, we have noise rock that feels more Hüsker Dü than The Flaming Lips. I just...I did not like it.
Biggest Surprise When I first got into The Flaming Lips, their most recent album was Embryonic. It's a creepy, cynical, acidic rock album that conjures feelings of near cosmic horror. It's an understatement to call Embryonic a departure from their previous album, At War With the Mystics, but it's their pivot after Embryonic that surprised me the most.
The Terror is not an album that I would seek out. Tonally, it's closely related to Embryonic, but the terror referred to in the title is far more personal. It's opening track "Look...The Sun Is Rising" establishes the album's theme of grief. Everyone suffers heartbreak, but the real horror is that we have to continue living even after that. A rising sun is typically a positive metaphor, but The Flaming Lips find fresh horror in its use. The world continues coldly around us, even when we just want it to stop.
It sure is a bummer! I liked it a lot. I don't know why Coyne pivoted to two really bleak albums in the late-middle part of his career, but they're both kind of miserable masterpieces to me.
Best Artwork While I'm talking up The Terror's use of a sunrise to instill dread in its listener, look at this awful shit.
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But really, it's objectively At War With the Mystics.
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Best Stretch The Soft Bulletin to Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots to At War With the Mystics is an absolute insane run, maybe the best a band has ever had? If you throw Transmissions from the Satellite Heart and Clouds Taste Metallic (Zaireeka released between Clouds and The Soft Bulletin, so I can't call it a full stretch) we're getting into absolute legendary, 90's Chicago Bulls output.
Toughest Hurdle Following their bummer era in Embryonic and The Terror, the Flaming Lips transition again into more psychedelic rock full of references to faeries and unicorns and various other mystical oeuvre. Oczy Mlody and King's Mouth are fun listens, but similar to their early work. they feel more like The Flaming Lips in costume than when they're at their absolute best, exploring Wayne Coyne's uninhibited feelings. By the end of King's Head I was just kind of like man, are we still talking about this shit?
What the Hell Is this? Zaireeka is a near-unlistenable four-disc album intended to be played simultaneously on four separate audio systems. Coyne's expressed disappointment in the way Zaireeka turned out (he wanted it to be one hundred CDs), but credits it with swinging the band in a more experimental direction leading into The Soft Bulletin.
I can see college students having a great time with this album in their dorm rooms circa 1997, but good luck finding four CD players in 2025.
The Hidden Gem The Flaming Lips have lost some influence over the years, but I think it's less about the quality of music dropping and more the band following their own interests from album to album instead of trends in music. Their most recent album, American Head, feels like a return to their Yoshimi era and is the absolute best thing they've produced since The Terror. My favorite gem, though, is Hit to Death in the Future Head. The nineties marks their first tonal shift and in that sense Hit to Death in the Future Head lays the groundwork for everything they produced in that decade. It's always been a favorite of mine, but one that I rarely see come up in conversations about the band.
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bestnoncannonship · 4 years ago
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I'm drowning in the gender sandbox guys.
I am agender. At least....I think I am. It's the closest to what I'm feeling. In that I really do not have an attachment to any gender and cannot conceive how people identify with a gender. Like....they just FEEL a gender? All the time? No matter what they look like and what they're wearing they FEEL a gender?? Whaaaa??? Sounds hella fake but okay.
And now I'm gonna talk about that and my experience for a while, in a series of ways that's probably gonna get the gender and sexuality neo-puritans to come yell at me for not being ritually pure enough in the way I talk but.....I'm talking from my own brain, baby. This is the toolkit I'm packing right now and the world I live in and I just need to spit it out. Maybe see if it resonates with people who know more than me. I don't know. Help.
I didn't question being a woman for the longest time. I grew up in a rural area culturally dominated by "Christians" (Not Catholics. I was Catholic. That comes with a whole different set of religious traumas pre-installed. I mean the ScAaRy protestent and nondenom Christians.) You didn't question anything. Not an adults orders. Not authority. Certainly not straightness. Gender was biological. I'd never heard of a trans person. There were rumors of Gays™. For most of my life it was just "Gender is the meat suit you got stuck with, right? I got stuck with this meat suit so it's my gender, I guess." And when I finally left the middle-o-nowhere for Le Citè and I met some (mostly bianary) trans people I was like "OH! OKAY!! Having strong feelings about being in the wrong meat suit can make a gender!" And the non bianaries that I met were still playing on that bianary scale. The "bit of boths" and the "different genders for different days" varieties. They has strange attachments to genders. And the whole retoric of "Questioning your gender and feeling things about you gender is the indicator that you might be trans!!" Just furthered my feeling that I must just be female by default cause like.....I didn't question anything. I didn't think about gender. I had a COMPLETE lack of feelings about gender whatsoever and that was normal, right?? Just meat suit gender. I certainly didn't have a strong feeling about wanting to be the opposite: *gag* a man?? A straight white man? Nope! I have no desire to be a bianary man and frankly I find 99 percent of men and male culture traumatic. So I must just be meat-suit gender.
And yes, I wanted to scrape my breasts and hips and thighs off with a cheese grater. But I wrote that off as a symptom of having started putting a finger down my throat after meals when I was 6 and having a family that forced hour upon hour exercise with their thighs and tummies wrapped in saran wrap and sang "I don't love her! She's too fat for me!" to a literal toddler and put that same toddler in oversized clothes to hide the healthy baby squish that toddlers HAVE. OF COURSE I wanted to die when my breasts grew in and my hips and thighs filled out. They were evil fat deposits. And they meant nothing but unwanted attention from yucky men. (Lesbianism to be discovered some 15 years later. My comphets we're almost as bad as my compgenders.) It had nothing to do with gender. Gender is just the meat suit ....and I already hated the meat suit by the time I had breast buds, they just enhanced a disgust that I thought was normal by then. Everyone kind of hates their meat suit, right?? Yes I wanted to look like men sometimes.....but they were skinny heroin chic men. I also wanted to look like kate moss. I wanted to look like a sideways door but my family is Italian and we have hips and thighs. It's just the meat suit I was assigned. Just have to learn to deal with it and dress it in the way that it looks most socially acceptable and get on with life. And my meat suit had a very gendered look, even in the deepest throws of my illness. "All woman." "The curves of a real woman." So that was just the hand I was dealt. Like having a hard to match foundation undertone. You don't gotta like it, it's just reality. Yes, I wanted to wear nothing but waistcoats and gay vampire clothes but they weren't cut for my body type so *shrug*.
Did I start to have way too much fun cosplaying and embodying male characters? Yes. But that was just identifying with characters. I'd always identified with characters. Did I still distinctly identify with the character's gender, even when I femmed the costume to avoid the hellish pain of binding? Yes. Did it make me feel weird when people referred to my Thor as a woman, even though it was technically a femme? Yes. But that was just feminism. Heroes don't need to be called girl heroes. No gender issues here!! Besides it's not weird in fandom circles to stongly identify with people across gender lines. The fact that I found the gendernope option if there was one available in the fandom and *attached* was surely just coincidental. Right??
Did I absolutely loose my mcfreaking mind when the gyno started talking about having to take my uterus away because the amount of blood it was loosing was doing irreparable harm to my body? Yes. My gender is my meat suit. When you take it away....what am I???? A *gag* man??? Nothing at all?? Am I still even human?? If I am not *gag* male and you take away the female part of the meat suit am I an aphid? A plant? A chair? But I was comforted by a chorus of voices saying "No!! You're a WOMAN. Infertility doesn't make you not a woman! You still have a woman's body!! Because you're a woman!!! Just look at you in your skirts and with your long hair!! You're a woman!!!" So.....still a woman, I guess. Because I still LOOKED like one. Gender = the PRESENTATION of the meat suit. That made sense. The structure of my meat suit made me limited to woman-presentation. So I was woman.
Then, it was the stupidest thing, I was talking to the other half of my life on the 4/5 train on the way to a friend's house about HER issues with gender presentation and the amount of attention to detail it takes to be socially acceptable as female and she said "You just know you're a girl. Like if they just picked you up and put you in a robot body you'd be a girl?" And I was like "......no? I'd be a robot?????" "But you'd still feel like a girl???" "No.....I'd feel like a ROBOT." "BUT you'd still like hear she/her and identify with those???" "No. I'd probably identify more with It/it's because that's what I'd be. A ROBOT!" And she's like "But what if your brain got transplanted into a boy body???" "Then I'd be a boy." "But what would you feel like?" "A BOY?" "Okay but what if you had a very neutral body with like no genitals? What would you feel like then??" "I mean....then it would depend on how I'm dressed. I'd feel like what I was dressed like." And we went around like this till she surmised that my entire relationship to gender was basically "You are what you look like." Which is apparently NOT how people relate to their own gender. They "feel" it somehow?? (I genuinely thought "FEELING" like a gender was what made trans people.) I feel nothing. I identify with a lot of things and ZERO of them are a gender. I thought that was normal. I thought that was the default. Apparently it's not. And then if you ask me what I want to be.....I can't answer. I really don't want to be a gender. I guess I want to be able to put different genders on at my will, like outfits, for societal convenience. But I don't "identify" with any of them. Hell, I have sweaters I identify with more than any particular gender. But there aren't really systems in place for describing and portraying that.
Gender.exe was not installed.
I did a lot of research. Agender felt closest. I actually felt closest to a Good Omens meme about Aziraphale describing his gender as "No, thank you!" That's what I feel like. But all the agender folks were vibing that moment. So I joined 'em. I am aware that puts me under the trans umbrella, but I don't really identify with that word. I don't feel like there's any transition. Any changing. Can't change what was never there. Also I feel like it's for people who....CAN present as their gender. I would be seen as an invader in those spaces. Its not bad enough to justify being in those spaces. I can live with being gendered. I just don't have one.
In the society we live in one cannot present as "not a gender". Someone with MY body definitely cannot present as "not a gender". The clothes that they make in size "giant human with planet tits" are agressively gendered. And even in a binder.....they're still REALLY there. (Yes, a reduction is desirable but I don't have reduction money.....and you can't reduce the fact that I'm the bowl shaped robust extreme female hipbone they use in Forensic Anthropology textbooks.) It is what it is. My body will always be perceived the way it's perceived. And frankly a lot of what we perceive as genderless is just "skinny body in masc style with short hair and makeup". That's not really want I want. I don't want to cut off my hair. It's my one really good feature and I've worked hard to grow out these Valkyrie worthy lengths. Mens clothes are so limiting. And there are no gender: no thank you clothes. (One well meaning friend kept trying to send me "genderless" clothes......but it was all rail thin afabs in mens clothes with short hair and heavy makeup. That's not looking genderless. That's just being skinny.) Gender no thank you presentation is very tied to short hair and thin bodies. So I've accepted that I don't get to play in the gender sandbox outside of the privacy of my own mind. It's a societal flaw. But whatever.
But pronouns are starting to really bother me. Everyone is so into them and identifying with them. And like.....I don't get it. I don't get the joy. I don't think I've found the one. Like.....I'm used to she. I will always be read as she. I will always be Miss and Ma'am in stores and restraunts. So I just kind of roll with it. I don't hate it. I don't like it. It's just a thing that I have to have to exist in society. Like a social security number. I actually think I identify with my social security number more. There's no point in making myself uncomfortable with something that's just going to be a part of my life. And I don't want to be the kind of person who expects people to address me by a pronoun they can't see and aren't used to. It's too much to ask of the average citizen of a gendered society to go through that much gender theory for just me. So "she" is an inevitable part of my life. And He....well ......I don't hate it. I dont like it. It's just there. I certainly don't get called it. And I'm not capable of presenting it well enough for this to be relevant. Now they......fuck I HATE they. I hate that it's the acceptable pronoun for anyone not bianary male or female. It just rubs me the wrong way. When people refer to me as they, I feel like they're referring to me and the host of mental illnesses I carry around and you don't have permission to address those troops thank you very much. They causes a genuine squick. But it's kinda the only widely acceptable option. I kinda like "it". I VIBE with it. It feels good. Unfortunately the people in my life have a certain reluctance about calling me it as they believe that happy vibe around a traditionally dehumanizing pronoun may be a trauma symptom. They might be right so I'm tabling "it" till I find a good therapist. Also...I cannot ask strangers to call me it. I don't have the confidence it takes to explain why and I frankly don't want to be faced with the criticism and questions I would face because I am unable to make my body be perceived as Nonbinary. I don't have the confidence or conviction to face that every day forever. Ditto neopronouns. I also haven't found one that I vibe with at all yet.
And queer labels get harder when you pull away from gender entirely. Like ... I am a Lesbian. I am solely attracted to women. But now I'm getting a lot of "You can't be a lesbian if you don't have a gender!!!" And like ...can I??? I like being a lesbian. It feels right. It conveys what I want it to convey. I like the exclusion of men entirely, after being taught to structure my life around men. I have a kinship with womanhood. It's where I was raised. It's how people see me. I just don't identify with it. It's not how I see myself. I guess that can kind of exclude me from the label? All of our terms are defined by being attracted to "your own gender" or "the opposite gender" or "both your own gender and other genders" and like ... I don't have a gender. And the opposite of nothing is....?? Fuck if I know? So what term am I allowed to use? I love queer for exactly this reason. But it just doesn't have the same clarity that lesbian does.
So I'm just kind of in a hole rn. Grappling with the fact that I really don't have a gender in a gendered world, and dealing with the fact that so much of our understanding and acceptance of gender is about presentation, a door closed to my body. I don't have the confidence or the spoons or the knowledge or the experience to fight this fight. The path of least resistance is sticking my head back into the sand and going with straightforward womanhood....but now it feels like I'm lying. I feel like an intruder in woman's spaces. And I can't go in men's spaces, they see me as....well...a woman. Lesser.
Someone out there who's better at the genders please help.
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rachelbethhines · 5 years ago
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Tangled Salt Marathon - Rapunzel’s Return Part 2
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Continuing on from part 1 - 
https://rachelbethhines.tumblr.com/post/635068926214258688/tangled-salt-marathon-rapunzels-return-part-1
Summary: When Rapunzel tries to defeat the Saporians by herself she gets captured; but once Varian realizes that the Separatists plan on using one of his potions' destructive properties to destroy Corona, he and Rapunzel work together to stop it.
Let’s Talk About What a Let Down the Sapiorans Are
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Throughout seasons one and two the Sapiorans were built up to be this intriguing race of people with a complex past and real problems that are sadly relatable to this day. They had a history, goal, motives, and special abilities like magic.  
Yet all we got was a really bad hipster parody. 
Heck, the crew can’t even keep it’s stereotypes right because they mostly slide into hippy territory instead. Hipsters, Yuppies, and Hippies are three distinctive counter culture movements for three different generations with completely different social concerns and fads. 
Basically Chris tried to “stick it to the kids” again and just wound up insulting his parents' generation instead because he’s that oblivious of other human beings.
And that’s not even taking into account that previously the Sapiorans were living on the run as nomads in caravans not dissimilar to common Romani stereotypes, so the show is once again making negative racial connotations due to thoughtlessness.
Why Do You Have a Secret Underground Room Hidden Behind Your Workshop Xavier?
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Like that not a thing normal people happen to have lying around there workspace. We still are given zero explanation for why Xavier has all this plot convenient knowledge and rare unordinary plot useful stuff. 
Given his previous connection to Saporia and Zhan Tiri wouldn’t it not have made more sense to reveal that he is an actual plot important character in season three rather than keep him as just the exposition fairy? 
So Was This Before or After the Saporian Take Over? Cause Either Answer Makes This a Dumb Plan.
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Why would the guards, especially Cap, just give up? Did they even bother fighting and then lost to Varian’s weapons or were they told to stand down by a brainwashed Frederic? If they knew something was wrong then why not stay and help? What makes them think they even could find Rapunzel given how no one knew where she was heading and her letters were infrequent? What difference would they think finding Rapunzel would do? 
Basically, just like with the “former cellmate” line, we needed to actually set up and establish this conflict rather than relying solely on exposition dumps. Because what we get here doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. It goes against established character and leaves a lot of unanswered plot holes. 
More Promotion of Authoritarianism From the Show
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Remember that these are the same people who formed a lynch mob to hunt down a fourteen year old all because the king told them to. The same king who had been lying to them for years and placed their lives and homes in danger for months. The same king who persecuted the poor and orphans for years. Him suddenly sending townsfolk to the mines isn’t anything new, so what are these people’s breaking points? Anyone else would have revolted by now.  
But noooo, they need Rapunzel to do it for them. Cause Rapunzel is royalty and they can’t do anything without royal permission because they’re sheep. Sheep that’s been subjugated for years and conditioned to be afraid of their “beloved ruler”. 
I understand from a meta point of view why you would want your main character to take charge but...
Like this isn’t inspiring.
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It’s disturbing. 
Why are we promoting blind loyalty to a person who’s not earned it just because they were born special? In a freakin’ kids show no less! 
Oh and still no one bothers to call out King Frederic’s abuses here, FYI. 
Take Note That Quirineon is Activated By Heat
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This will be important later on in the review. 
He’s Already Built Grenades For You. Wouldn’t Those Be Better Because They’re Easier to Control?
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He’s already built explosive chemicals for you. You just used them in part one of the episode. And it came in an easy to use form rather than an unstable, and untested, mess that could literally blow up in your faces since no one, not even Varian himself, knows how to control it yet. 
You Don’t Hammer Out a Cast Iron Pan
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It’s literally in the word. To make a cast iron pan you pour the metal into a casted mold. You don't hammer it out like you would with a sword or something. And you can’t even go with the “rule of cool” here cause Rapunzel surrounded by molten metal and fire would have been far more impressive looking.  
Yes I’m being picky cause I’m stalling. I don’t care. This is just yet another instance of the crew not paying attention to details like they should. 
Behold The Final Time Eugene Will Ever Call Out Rapunzel’s BS
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This is the last time Eugene will hold an honest discussion with Rapunzel like an equal to her. By the end of this episode he will have transitioned into full on doormat mode. 
Also burying negative feelings and not addressing issues is who Rapunzel is. She’s been pulling this shit since day one. It’s what causes 90% of the conflicts in the show. Have you not noticed Eugene?  
So This Episode Has Contradictory “Lessons” 
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The episode presents this idea that Rapunzel needs to open up to others and trust again after Cassandra’s betrayal. The problem is that the episode doesn’t follow through on that. It makes a knee-jerk decision to go with a “responsibility” lesson that wasn’t built up to instead at the last minute. 
More on this later.    
Varian Doesn’t Actually Interact With the Saporians at Any Point.
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The only person Varian interacts with is Andrew. We have no concept of how he fits in with the rest of the group and what his dynamics are with them. What do they think of Varian? What does Varian think of them? The consequence to this is to further divorce Varian from narrative, even though this is supposed to be his redemption episode. 
As I said in the last part, you can easily write Varian out of this episode and nothing really changes plot wise. That’s bad writing. 
Also I was robbed of Khary Payton and Jeremy Jordan exchanging lines. I was this close to having audio material for my BH6 crossover, dang it! 
Behold The One Time the Black Lady Gets a Line!
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I think her name is Juniper? 
You can tell it’s her because of the shadow on the wall.
Anyways they casted this part and only bothered to give the character a single line? What a waste! 
But this just goes back to the series' poor representation. The only WOC in the show are presented as “shifty” and untrustworthy, even when they are ultimately “good guys”. The majority of them are straight up villains tho, and even as antagonists they’re not afforded any real screen time. 
And the only other outright black women on the show is the inventor lady who was given zero respect and the ghost of a barbarian. 
Once again, I don’t think the crew are intentionally racist. I think they’re just sloppy. They wanted to be more inclusive but they failed to actually give voice to minorities behind the scenes and so failed in representing them well. This is a problem with the industry as a whole, not just this one show, and must be talked about as such if we wish to change things for the better. 
None of this “Stuff” Holds Any Real Meaning
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We get several callbacks to season one through Cassandra’s personal things that she left behind, but none of this stuff holds any real personal meaning. It’s just there. They wind up triggering these big emotional reactions from both Rapunzel and Cassandra but the audience is just left confused because what they’re crying over are things that have little significance to these characters. Even this line from season one is just dripping with sarcasm and not some pleasant past memory that either Cass or Raps holds dear to their hearts. 
Way To Go, Dumbass
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It’s not that she went alone, or that she broke down when it finally hit her that Cass left, that I’m making fun off. The episode already addresses those two points. 
No, what ticks me off is that Rapunzel has taken down killer robots, ghosts, and monsters before now with her magical hair but a handful of regular dudes can just bring her down? I don’t care how much alchemy they got. Depowering your main character for no stated reason just for narrative convenience is poor writing. 
Because If He Didn’t He Would Have DIED, Rapunzel!!!
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He literally would have freakin died had he not done something! He was left inside a jail cell to rot away! Before that he was threatened with hangman’s noose! Before that violence from an angry crowd! Before that he was left alone to starve and/or die from exposure! There was no way out for him except to fight! 
And here you are inside the very prison that you kept him in and you still don't have the fucking self awareness to put two and two together! 
This Right Here the Assassination of Rapunzel’s Character and the Killing Blow to the Series
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Yeah, and what about after the storm? Hun, bitch!?
We’ve spent two damn seasons watching Rapunzel stepping on people and making excuses for herself and the one time when she should realize her actions are wrong and finally own up to her behavior and she still does not fucking change.
This is supposed to be a coming of age story! That means the main character is supposed to grow and learn shit! But when it matters most, Rapunzel only digs in her heels and refuses to change! 
Why should I care about this character anymore if she’s just going to keep on being selfish no matter what? Why should I bother watching the show if it fails to deliver on its premise? How is this in any way shape or form an appropriate message for children!? 
If you’re watching the series for the first time, then it’ll take awhile to register just how awful this scene is and how it really is the beginning of the end, because they did have time to turn things around after this. But they didn’t, and here we are. 
This Isn’t a Real Apology
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It’s not a real apology if all you do is make excuses for yourself. Rapunzel doesn’t address what she actually did wrong here and it has nothing to do with her stupid promise. 
She neglected and enabled the abuse of a child for a year and three months, and she’s not even sorry for it! 
You Were Never a “Friend” Rapunzel
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Friends, actually do shit together. They enjoy each other’s company. They care when the other is hurt or in trouble. 
Rapunzel only came to see Varian when she needed him for something. Even now, after this confrontation, that’s all she’ll ever do. She does not actually care about Varian, because the creators will not let her care. 
And Here Comes the Death of Varian’s Characterization
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In order to make this stupid, forced, “redemption” work the writers had to do a complete 180 with Varian’s character and his motivations. Instead of freeing his father, seeking revenge, or just, you know, surviving, he now suddenly cares about “being friends” and “being accepted by people”, only he has no reason to want any of that! 
Rapunzel is a shit friend. Heck all the mains are crap friends to him. They ruined his life and the townspeople tried to kill him. Why would he want anything to do with any of these a-holes!? 
Varian doesn’t get assassinated in the same sense as Rapunzel and Cassandra do. He doesn’t suddenly become a hateable dumb douchebag or anything, but he nevertheless has his character retroactively sabotaged by the writing.  
Uh, Were You Not There When Your Dad Rounded Up a Lynch Mob Against Him, Raps?
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I believe you were. Also Varian literally told you to your face that he had to go into hiding cause the townspeople were willing to attack him just because those rumors that you failed to stop and pretended not to know anything about. 
Just because the characters shout something repeatedly does not make it true. The audience isn’t dumb. They can remember what happened only two seasons ago. 
Where Was the Inciting Incident For This Change of Heart?
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Why should he even want their forgiveness? Why has he given up on freeing his father? Why is he having second doubts about overthrowing the kingdom that persecuted him? 
If you’re going to drastically change a character’s motivations, goals, and moral alignment then you need to present an in story reason for that change. We don’t get that. There’s no inciting incident on screen for us to see the shift in his character development. 
The audience is left to only infer, and that’s poor writing. The audience shouldn’t have to do the work of the writers for them.  Characters’ motivations and goals  should not be guess work. 
The only thing we can glean from this is that he had a change of heart while in prison and that’s a horrifying thing for the show to suggest. That’s basically justifying Frederic’s abuse. It also recontextualizes Varian’s arc into one of submission to his abusers and not one of learning to do the right thing simply because it’s right. 
Once Again, Were You Not There For Season One Rapunzel?
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They had a year and three damn months of chances. These people actively tried to do him harm just for simply seeking help. He has no reason to trust them nor you. 
Why Are We Shoulding All of the Blame Onto the Abused Child?
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Yes, he did do all of those things, technically, but they’re being presented here without context.
The Queen enabled his abuser who was threatening his life and destroyed his home. He kidnapped her as a last restore when all other methods to get out of his desperate situation failed. 
The princess he threatened neglected him for three months and repeatedly refused to help him, even throwing him out into a deadly snow storm. Despite him being her responsibility, thereby making her neglect a flat out abuse of power.  
He would have died a slow and painful death in prison had he not helped to overthrow the kingdom that persecuted him. 
I’m not going to pretend that what Varian did was right or that he shouldn’t feel sorry for what he did, but this is a highly skewed version of events that are being recounted here just to create bias in the viewers. It’s manipulative writing intended to gaslight the audience. 
Also, why does he even want a second chance!?   
Doesn’t This Undermine The Saporian’s Goals?
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The Saporians wanted to reclaim their ancestral homeland so that they would no longer be a displaced people. How does blowing up that homeland help them? 
Season three just throws all logic out the window. There’s barely a single villain who doesn’t undermine their own goals at some point with their stupid actions. 
So Why Varian and Andrew Not Some Other Team Up?
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Out of all of the various recurring baddies in the show Varian and Andrew have the least in common. I’m not saying that they couldn’t work together, but doing so required more set up than this. Because as is, this is a very contrived teamup. 
They have diametrically opposed goals and moral alignments. Varian doesn’t bring anything to the table that the Saporaions couldn’t have supplied themselves. Meanwhile the Saporians have failed to offer Varian anything that he could want. 
At best it’s a marriage of convenience for them to both break out of prison together, but even that is contrived because we don't know why neither of them were sent away on the prison barge with the rest of the season one villians.  
Better combinations would have been 
Varian & Lady Caine
Andrew & Lady Caine 
Varian & Cass
Andrew & Cass 
Varian & Zhan Tiri
Andrew & Zhan Tiri
Varian & Hector
The Baron & Varian
Andrew & Staylan 
King Trevor & Varian 
Like there were tons of options here that the writers just ignored, even though any of them would have made more sense than the one they went with.  
The Andrew and Varian Dynamic Can Be Seen as an Allegory for Grooming; Unfortunately the Writers Didn’t Consider That Implication.
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Yeah... That’s pretty much what Andrew has done here. He’s groomed this desperate and lonely teen to become a child soldier for him. And one only can only pray that’s all he tried to groom him to do since they were trapped inside a confined and enclosed space together for several months. 
Listen, I don’t mind children’s shows touching upon darker subjects. Often fantasy is a good way for people to process complex themes and uncomfortable real world situations through the safety of fiction. It can even be helpful for those who have had the misfortune to experience certain traumas. 
I’m not complaining that TTS is too dark. 
I’m complaining about it being shit. 
All of the crap Varian goes through is just thrown in there for shock value. It’s not here to commentate on the real world nor provide a complex story. The situations are brought only to then be outright ignored. This isn’t thoughtful nor deep. It’s not meaningful nor heartfelt. It’s just hollow drama done in bad taste. 
You’re Not In a Position to Judge Rapunzel 
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You got captured first because you decided to throw yourself a pity party. 
Would He Though?
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I’m pretty sure Quirin is very well aware of how shitty Frederic is. If anything I would think he’d be pissed that his son, that he tried so hard to protect, was mistreated in such a hordenous way. 
This isn’t some satisfying ending to Varian’s arc. It’s a heartbreaking revelation that he’s been beaten down by his abusers.  
Varian’s Arc Isn’t Actually About Validation, and Rapunzel Giving It Here Doesn’t Really Change Anything 
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I spoke about this before on its own, but Tangled the Series places far too much stock in validation. Yes, it’s an aspect of his character arc, but it’s not the end all and be all of his motivation. It’s not the force that drives him to do what he does. 
His primary goal is survival, both for himself and for his father. His secondary goal is gaining his father’s approval, but that’s not because he’s seeking generic praise, it’s because his father is emotionally distant. The “validation” is a mask for the real issues which are to fix his relationship with his dad and avoid the guilt of having possibly killed him in an accident. 
Rapunzel has fuck all to do with that. 
He doesn’t need to hear approval from her. He needs her to get her shit together and help him! 
Rapunzel’s and Varian’s Situations Are Nothing Alike and Rapunzel Doesn’t Know Jackshit
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Rapunzel you were dumped by your bestie because you’re a shitty friend. 
Varian was neglected and abused by those who were supposed to take care of him. 
Unless you’re drawing parallels to how Frederic and Gothel treated you, and even then neither of them denied you basic fucking needs! 
This should be an “Oh Shit! I’ve become just like Mother Gothel” moment for Rapunzel, not an “Oh yay! Someone to share in my personal misery” moment. 
Man, Rapunzel suuuuuucks! 
Also This Still Isn’t An Actual Apology
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Once again, Rapunzel is not admitting what she did wrong here. She’s not actually acknowledging Varian’s pain, nor what she needs to do to make admins with him. 
What she’s doing is making things all about herself again. She’s talking about her feelings. About what she is facing. Rapunzel is an incredibly selfish and egotistical person and the show is trying to present this as a positive thing by rewarding her for such behavior. 
Varian’s Redemption Should Have Nothing to Do with “Friendship”
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Varian has no reason to want to become friends again with the woman who ruined his life and abused him. 
But more than that, redemption shouldn’t be dependent upon Rapunzel’s friendship, nor even her ‘forgiveness”. Varian should be able to do the right thing just because it’s the right thing, Rapunzel be damned. 
This cheepens not only his character development but also Rapunzel’s development as well. Rapunzel is not allowed to grow as a person and accept that not everyone wants to be her friend, and that people may have valid reasons to hate her even, and that doesn’t make them evil. 
It also rushes through Varian’s arc undermining what the audience had to get through to get to this point.  
OK, Let’s Talk About The Goatee
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I wouldn’t have minded the beard had it just not looked like a fucking barcode. There’s production art where it looks fine. But just wiping it away ties back to what I was talking about in part one. It’s denying Varian the chance to grow up. This is supposed to be his coming of age story as well but the crew won't let him do that because “rule of funny” apparently overrides what the characters actually need in order to develop.  
Once again, the show isn’t a sitcom. You can have comedic moments but the comedy doesn’t need to outright undermine the drama. 
Once Again, Shouldn’t Eugene Be the First Person to Jump to Varian’s Defence?
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You mean the orphan on the streets who stole stuff and fought to survive when the adults failed to take care of him? Is that what you’re talking about Eugene? Cause if I remember correctly that was you not just three years ago. 
You Mean Rapunzel Needs Him To Make Her Feel Better About Herself
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Spoiler alert, but Varian doesn’t actually do anything after this point in the episode. His entire “redemption” is just about making Rapunzel feel better about herself after Cass has rejected her. He’s literally become the rebound. 
How Come Varian Suddenly Became Shorter Just for This Shot?
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I know the meta reason is to reflect that scene back in Queen for a Day when Rapunzel promised him that she'd help him before everything went tits up. Where he was also drawn shorter in that episode to make him seem more verunable, but here he’s just suddenly shorter for only two shots and then suddenly back to his usual height. 
Crap like this is why I insist that Varian didn’t actually get any taller in season three. The show just has always been inconsistent with his height and most of the “evidence” for his growth are cherry picked instances where the show drew him smaller than usual for reasons, like here.   
So Where Did They Get That Much of the Explosives and How Did They Get Them So Fast?
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Only Varian knows how to manufacture that stuff. Why would he make that much of it if he was still in the experimental phase with it? He’s even surprised that they have so much, so where did they get it? If they made it then, how did they make it so fast? 
So This Plan Goes Nowhere
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Spoiler alert: Varian doesn’t actually get to do any of that. In fact he’s kind of pointless for the rest of the episode. 
Why Would the King and Queen Care About a City That They Can’t Remember?
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Like this revenge doesn’t make sense. It’s just a contrived way to get Eugene and Lance out of the way.
If the Quirineon Explodes From Being Exposed to Heat Then What Good Does Just Dropping It Do?
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Yeah, remember? The stuff explodes when heated. Simply dropping it shouldn’t do anything other than make a mess on the ground maybe. 
All That Build Up and Varian Still Doesn’t Get to Do Anything Useful
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Up till this point, Varian was shown to be the most competent threat in the show. Yet here they have him be a screw up twice in a row just for comedy antics and to glorify Rapunzel again. 
If you got to nerf other characters just to make your main look good then you’ve failed to establish your main character as being capable in their own right. 
Remember That This Boy Was Trapped in a Jail Cell With This Guy for a Year!
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No, I’ll never be over this.
Andrew is the most directly violent and scummy out of all of the villians in the show. 
If he’s willing to do this now, if he was willing to do this to his ex-girlfriend, then what the heck was he willing to do when he and Varian were trapped alone together? 
So Andrew Just Willingly Sacrifices His Own People Here....Even Though His Goal Was to Give His People a New Home....
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People need to use this gif more often when concerning this show and the villains’ ass-backwards plans.
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And yes they survive because of Varian alchemy. But that was on accident. Andrew had no way of knowing that would happen. He’s willing to destroy his own people just to blow up his ancestral homeland and for what!? What does he gain from this action?  
The Mind Wipe Kills Frederic’s and Arianna’s Characters; Littraly
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Frederic and Arianna are effectively dead at this point. Anything that made them, well them, has been wiped away. Their personalities, hopes, dreams, their on going stories and development, just gone. And we never get them back, even when their memories supposedly return. 
Varian’s Not Even Allowed to Get the Idea On How to Save Corona...In His Own Redemption Episode No Less
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This is his episode! We’ve spent two years building up to this point and you can’t even let him help? He’s denied the chance to make up for his own mistakes! Just so Rapunzel can play hero and be a very shallow representation of what a bunch of men think a “strong” woman should be! 
It’s fucking insulting. That’s what it is. 
Making a female character the center of the universe to the point where other people are just props for her is not empowering! 
No It’s Not!!
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Uh you wouldn’t even be here had you just fucking helped Varian to being with you dumb bitch! This is very much you and your father’s mess! 
Even now, while pretending to be responsible, Rapunzel can’t actually be responsible and own up to what she did! 
She’s fucking 20 and the 16 year old shows more maturity than her! 
Also Your Hair Can Protect Two People at Once Rapunzel; Remember?
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There’s no excuse for leaving Varian out of the action. We’ve been shown multiple times now that Rapunzel’s magic hair can protect her and other people at the same time. 
Having Rapunzel Save the Day By Herself Undermines Everything the Episode Was Trying to Establish
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What happened to needing to “trust again” and letting other people help you? Having Rapunzel save the day alone just tosses out the lesson that the show was trying to build up to. 
The show tries to frame this as Rapunzel learning “responsibility” but that also does not work. For one it was never established that she needed to learn that within the episode itself and secondly, she doesn’t actually do anything different from what she usually does. 
Being an action hero isn’t the same thing as being responsible. Being responsible is being considerate of others, doing the borning shit or mundane crap that you hate, and being mature enough to recognize your own failings and admitting when you were wrong. 
So in the end Rapunzel is neither responsible nor more open to others. 
And There’s the Death of Eugene’s Character
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Lance, who has maybe exchanged all of three sentences with Raps, is more distrught than the guy that supposedly wants to marry her. This isn’t heartwarming, nor it is growth. It’s just lobotomizing a character right in front of our eyes. 
In this very episode he was worried about Raps going to face the Saporians by herself and was, guess what, fucking right to do so. But he doesn’t give two shits if she gets blown up!? 
Ooookaaaay.....
This is the completion of turning Eugene into a doormat. From now own he shan’t be allowed to have any thoughts or feelings of his own that disagrees with Rapunzel. 
The Eugene we knew is now dead. 
But Of Course the Show Rewards Everyone for Behaving In the Dumbest Way Possible Anyways
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Don’t expect any of these grossly out of character moments and oxygen deprived logic to be addressed nor fixed within the show. The series will keep on shoving unearned endings into our facing while insisting that this is positive development. 
How Did Y’all Get Here Before Varian?
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Yes, he was left on a roof, but he can climb and y’all were outside of the city. 
Yeah... A Year and Half Fucking Later!
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Ok, a year and three months, but that’s still not any better. Worse, all this implies is that Rapunzel would not have ever concerned herself with trying to free Quirin had Varian not broken out of prison. She would have literally left them both for dead and we’re supposed to find her suddenly doing the bare fucking minimum heartwarming and inspiring?
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Where Was the Inciting Incident to Use the Decay Incantation for This? 
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How did Rapunzel come up with this plan? When did she come up with it? 
When the hurt incantation was first found no one mentioned how it could be used to save Quirin. No one even gave Quirin a thought. Since then the incarnation hasn’t been brought back up, ever. This is a pretty big leap in logic for Rapunzel to suddenly think of this. 
All it highlights how Varian was originally meant to be there to translate the scrolls and incantations in order to establish all this but of course it got cut so now it just comes the fuck out of nowhere. 
Not Letting Varian Have Anything to Do With Saving His Father Is Even Worse Than Not Letting Him Save the Day
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This has been his motivation since the beginning. It’s been the driving plot for a season, and now that the time has finally come what does get to do? 
Hold a dang bucket. 
Part of coming up with satisfying endings is following through on what you’ve established. The audience needs closure. Simply freeing Quirin isn’t enough, we need the carthartis of Varian specifically fulfilling his goal. 
I don’t know how to break this to you Chris, but this isn’t Rapunzel’s story. Not this segment of it anyways. It’s Varian’s and it just so happens to connect to Rapunzel’s. She shouldn’t have been center stage for this. 
The Series Blows It’s Load Too Early with the Incantations
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This is the last time we’ll hear any of the incantations sung on screen, cause someone in budgeting didn’t know what was important to throw the money at and what was not. 
It’s not bad here, but if we could only hear one incantation only once this season it needed to be in the finale with the final heal incantation. 
Varian Was Right All Along
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Also, all this does is justify Varian’s actions in season one. Rapunzel was indeed the only one who could free his dad according to this. For a series that desperately wants to shove all of the blame onto an abused child’s shoulders they sure go out their way to prove him right. 
So How Is the Hurt Incantation Suppose to Work?
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There were so many fan theories after this scene because Varian and Quirin don’t respond to the hurt incantation the same way previous characters had. 
No one is gasping for breath, Varian can touch Raps without burning his hands, and Rapunzel can control the direction of her power. ect. 
Turns out there was nothing there, the writers just didn’t know what the fuck they were doing and made the hurt incantation very inconsistent just like all of the magic in this show. 
BULLSHIT!!!
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You literally turn into a villain because she gave up on you!!!!
She also didn’t give two shits about you throughout the entirety of season two. 
Why are we just pretending like season one didn’t exist!? 
Why!?
The Note!!!
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No It Fucking Didn’t!
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Does That Look Like “I’m Proud of You Son” To You?
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Chris went on to confirm that, yes, the note did hold more information that then got cut. Pretty much confirming all that we suspected. That Varian was cut from season two and his story hastily shoved back into season three at the last minute. 
Below is the link to the tumblr post he made.
https://cnotes.tumblr.com/post/190534585146/apparently-one-of-the-writers-said-a-while-back
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What’s worse is that his defense is such bullshit. The below exchange pretty much sums it all up.
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This Doesn’t Actually Resolve Anything and Is Therefore Unsatisfying to Watch
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Part of the reason why this conclusion doesn’t work is because it doesn’t actually address any of the problems that they have in their relationship. Quirin never owns up to what he did wrong. There’s no discussion of what Varian was up to while he was entrapped, no conversation about what secrets Quirin hid from his son, and zero admission of wrongdoing on either side.   
Also Varian has done nothing significant to earn those particular words. Saying I love makes sense, but in context saying “I’m proud of you” does not. It doesn’t even work on a meta level cause the episode prevented Varioan from accomplishing anything. 
It’s empty. 
There Could Have Been More Screen Time to Fix This If Not for Season Two Mucking About
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https://discord.com/channels/427940661589704715/569296212218347522/777635115978457098
Above is the link to the original storyboards. It doesn’t fix everything but there’s a lot more satisfying emotional beats including adding Ruddiger back in who is suspiciously absent for the entire episode for no stated reason. 
This version was cut due to time. Which, like with the Crossing the Line song, didn’t need to be had they been more effective with their usage of time in season two. 
They also could have had a better conclusion to Varian’s arc in general had he not been cut from season two altogether. 
So What Does Freeing Quirin Add to the Series?
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I’m serious. What does freeing Quirin at this point and time do for the story?
It doesn’t add any character development, Quirin just wanders around aimlessly in the background until the finale and even then his part in that is a pointless dead end. Varian doesn’t gain his emotional closure, just empty, hollow “praise”. Nor is he allowed to accomplish any of his established goals. No new lore or history is exposed. No mystery uncovered. 
There’s no reason why this couldn’t have been done later in the season. Provide more tension and keep up the consequences of the characters actions. Give the mains something to do and work on until Cass and Zhan Tiri show up again.  
The only reason why this is here is to wrap Varian’s story up as soon as possible so he won’t “steal Cassandra’s spotlight”. That’s it. He’s rewarded for conforming to Rapunzel’s will and all the fans should shut up and be grateful, at least according to Chris.
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I Like This Song But It Wasn’t Needed
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It doesn’t add anything to the story. It’s just a generic celebration song. Which would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact that we have a limited number of songs, even less than in previous seasons, and the story isn’t over yet. This is the wrong place to put a victory song at. 
Especially when we could have had a song that furthered Varian’s redemption instead.  Yeah, that was cut too. 
So Is Varian the New “Lance” This Season?
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He’s right there! This is his dang focus episode! 
Why hire Broadway singers and not let them sing!? Why waste talent and money like that? 
Also These Lyrics!
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Did Glenn Slater just not read the scripts before writing the songs? That’s all season three ever does! Give the mains what they want without earning it. Even in this very episode!
So Is This Rapunzel’s 20th Birthday or Not?
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Ok I have gotten into many a heated debate about how long season three is supposed to be. And that’s because what the crew says doesn’t match what the series shows us. 
By all accounts this should be Rapunzel’s birthday. According to season two she’s been gone for one year, and there’s the lanterns that they fly specifically on her birthday. 
But no one verbally says it’s her birthday and I’ve heard conflicting accounts from different members of the crew. Some stating that it is her 20th birthday and some disagreeing that it is. 
Well I’ll take what evidence that the show actually presents to its audience on screen over what the cast and crew says after the fact any day of the week, so I’ll be gathering up this evidence and proving by the end that season three is two years not one. 
But the fact that I must comb through series to prove this, the fact that we can even have this debate, and the fact that the crew have to state basic info after the series is over is just proof of the bad writing. 
Fun Fact: Cupcakes Weren’t Invented Until the 20th Century
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Yeah, that’s the fault of the OG film, and yeah it doesn’t really mean much, but still it’s one more thing to add to the pile of stuff that doesn’t fit. 
Plus I’m just a hardcore nerd for historical cooking and I like to share my knowledge.  
Yeah But How Can He Trust All of You Again?
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You’re the ones who let him down first; repeatedly. And you only started to make things up to him once he became useful to you. What assurance does he have that you won’t mistreat him again next time he’s in trouble or is no longer of any use to y’all? 
Yes, Let NOT Show What the Main Character Is Actually Going Through
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Yup, this is “Rapunzel’s show” but we’re not going to let Rapunzel have any focus on her feelings or give any insight into her thought process about what is the main conflict of the series now.
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Conclusion
Ducktales was robbed! 
I can’t believe this shit won an Emmy for “best writing.” It utterly fails on every possible level. It fails to be a continuation of the ongoing story and it fails to be a stand alone episode. Even the very structure of the story is fundamentally flawed. The only reason why it’s not the worst episode of the entire series because the finale and the penultimate episodes exist. 
Anyways...I finally made it through. It literally took my entire weekend but I’m finally caught up. Next week I’ll be going back to the usual one episode a week schedule. 
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chaoticdisater · 5 years ago
Text
I am eighteen and watching Phineas and ferb the movie: Candace against the universe, so here are my thoughts on it
- we stan a song, Ahhhh, i love this already
- a PLATYPUS robot, yes, 
- “see how i used “vacuum” as both a transitive verb and an abstract concept” “ah I see what you did there you used “vacuum” as a noun and a weapon” 
- Vanessa being a chill friend is what i didn't realize i needed in my life, also how old are Candace and Vanessa, 
- OKAY i didn't need THERAPY RIGHT NOW THANKS
- Carl i missed you, i didn't realize that i missed you but i did and now your back,
- its been like five minuets and ferb has already said more lines then in the origanel show
- Baljeet my boy, your a little smarty pants, we love you my boy, 
- get your self some friends who would go to an alien planet to save your sibling with you, 
- is this the first time Docter doof and the boys have talked? 
- DOOF is a Virgo????
- “its branding leave me alone” when you get absolutely recked by a kid 
- i also would have gotten the smoothie before the aliens got me. 
- “hey i don’t come down to where you work and tell you how to sell cupcakes” 
- Perry's song!!!!!!
- PETER ARE YOU FLOSSING ON US RIGHT NOW! SIR
- i love the small update of them getting smart phones even though its still technically 2007 for them 
- this is still really funny and like i didn't think it would be as funny as i remembered it being when i was a kid but its still super funny
- i love these dancing aliens, they are like there own vibe 
- i think Candace has been offered as a human sacrifice before so, its completely far for her to assume that she would be one 
- so really all this movie so fair is about how Candace is being ignored in place of her super smart brothers who get away with everything are extremely lucky and her finally getting to be special, because I feel her
- its so meta the people had fun writing this and you can tell
then me and my friend had an hour long conversation about the umbrella academy and i paused the movie for it, oops
- candace getting an adult mentor who belives her?? who? what? 
- doof your never the grown up. you have litlary never been a grown up, your fighing with a 12 year old, (younger probly) 
- doof I’m 18 and i don’t know what you mean, could you explain 
-why cant he change a tire? hes a robotic dude
- the couple!!! oh you know what i mean 
- Thomas sanders!!! my boy your here, 
- a power balled yes, lets do this oh NO 
- as an older sibing i have felt the feeling of waning to just send my sibling away, and the fact that Phines reconnes that he didnt evem realise that she was upset. 
- candace my girl, thats never a good sigh, 
- “oh we dont need a reason we’re afraid of a lot of things.” yeah know some people like that you vibe alien, cower in that corner
- Buford was like ‘i will bring my canoe with me everywhere incase i need it” 
- phineas really had to motivated a group of cowardly people and for that i am sorry, 
- so this plant needs carbon dixocide, 
- yeah i was right carbon dixoced
- this alien is really acting like the US would shoot them down the moment they saw them in there air space, 
- so no one knows what happen to Vanessa right? like where is she? 
- oh there we are
- when your dad lets you keep the dragon 
- they couldn't help but throw them self in the film could they, oh well, i like it, hello Dan, hello swampy 
- this chicken replace anotr is coming in handy 
- alright doof just suggest actual murder, it was of a chicken but still. 
- the canoe, when phineas says it we trust him, he can do what ever he wants
- Perry and doof just chilling with Vanessa just petting her dragon in the back 
- bajeet being me @ who ever desired that i would never get a season two of Yuri on ice, 
- guys, when word got out that there was aliens, (witch we all have smart phones) the US would be nuked, 
- candace sweet heart the world is under attack right now, so, maybe we should have this desucion later
- the boys are so sweet, they ah, they just love there sister so much
- the mug holds all there memories of there sister, aw thats so cute, this is so cute, 
- when you save the universe by give out free tee shirts
- woman holding her brothers hostage not the best idea, 
- I DIDNT ASK FOR THERAPY RIGHT NOW I KNOW THAT MY SELF WORTH ISNT VERY GOOD BUT IM ALSO WATCHING A CARTOON FOR 10 YEARS OLD AS AN EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD AT ONE AM 
- oh damn, its little shop up in this bitch
- doofs most useful invention was the chicken replace inator, 
- wait wait wait wait candace wont in be on the news or something? 
- dance break, its a bop 
- aw it was a pretty good film, i liked that, 
98 notes · View notes
passionate-reply · 4 years ago
Video
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Great Albums is back! This week, we’ll take a look at one of the greatest electronic albums of all time, Kraftwerk’s The Man-Machine, and try to avoid getting sued by Ralf Huetter! Full transcript for the video can be found below the break. Enjoy!
Growing up, my main genre of choice was 80s synth-pop, and while the deep influence of Kraftwerk is as significant there as it is everywhere else in electronic music, I was one of those people who initially saw them as somewhat "intimidating." Today, moreso than ever, Kraftwerk are held up as one of those more high-brow or cerebral groups with a philosophy that transcends mere pop or dance music, which makes them seem respectable, a kind of “model minority” in the world of music outside rock. While I don’t buy into the judgmental quality of that sort of praise, which damns so many of Kraftwerk’s greatest fans and imitators, I did get the sense, as a child, that these hoity-toity Germans, working with primitive equipment way back in the 1970s, might not be what I was looking for in a new favourite band. That was before I heard The Man-Machine.
While it’s certainly true that Kraftwerk were a highly experimental band in their own time, they’re one of those acts whose ideas have deeply permeated contemporary music, to the point where their actual work is extremely approachable and listenable to today’s ears. Of all the fairly early electronic acts, who started making this kind of music before it began to become mainstream in the late 70s, Kraftwerk are almost certainly the ones people nowadays listen to for pleasure the most, and that’s no accident. While their earlier albums like Trans-Europe Express took more overt inspiration from classical music, The Man-Machine was their first great foray into the arena of pop, which I think is key to why it resonates with people. For evidence of that, look no further than the biggest mainstream hit of Kraftwerk’s career, “The Model.”
I think it’s easy to see why “The Model'' became a hit single. Sure, it may not have the most traditional pop song structure, let alone instrumentation, but unlike a lot of what Kraftwerk had done before, it’s got a lot of lyrics and a real sense of narrative. Plus, that narrative we get is about a person and not a machine--a good-looking person, in whom the narrator is sexually interested. It’s the perfect pop material. Of course, I would be remiss to mention that “The Model” didn’t achieve all of its success until the single was re-released in many markets in 1981, and in those few years, the idea of “synth-pop” advanced significantly in the charts and popular consciousness. By the time “The Model” was a hit, Kraftwerk admirers were already taking over: look no further than Gary Numan’s "Cars” or OMD’s "Enola Gay,” two synth-pop classics that, it must be said, are still about vehicles!
That aside, though, not everything on The Man-Machine sounds like “The Model”--in fact, it’s surrounded by tracks that have much more in common with Kraftwerk’s earlier LPs. Literally surrounded, in the track listing. I think that adds to this album’s appeal as an ideal entry point into their catalogue: it has some things that sound familiar, while also preparing you for what else you’ll encounter if you choose to probe deeper into the band. The Man-Machine has the least homogeneous profile of any Kraftwerk album. While most of their other classic albums are highly cohesive “song cycles” that almost blend into one long song when you listen to them in full, The Man-Machine doesn’t really have those repeated melodies and motifs that tie its tracks together. While many people, especially fans of psychedelic and progressive rock, really like those cohesive albums, I think this change is a welcome one. It gives the individual tracks a bit more room to breathe and express distinctive identities, and makes the album feel a bit more pop, even if the material itself isn’t always all that poppy. *The Man-Machine* actually only has six individual tracks; they range in length from the three-minute pop stylings of “The Model” to the urban sprawl of “Neon Lights,” which luxuriates in an almost nine-minute runtime.
Given that the average track length is around six minutes, I’m almost tempted to think of The Man-Machine as six tiny Kraftwerk albums, or at least, musical ideas that could have been expanded into full LPs in another universe. “Neon Lights” and “Spacelab” feel dreamy and easy-going, with floating melodies that draw from the “cosmic music” scene, one of the many emergent styles that began as something uniquely German and spread throughout the world--in this case, becoming an important forerunner to ambient electronic music through acts like Tangerine Dream. Meanwhile, the hard, tick-tocking rhythms of “Metropolis” and the title track point to the newfound focus on rhythm and the so-called motorik beat that made the music of Neu! so compelling.
The Man-Machine can serve not only as an introduction to Kraftwerk, but also as a sort of crash course in this entire period of electronic music, showcasing some of the most distinctive and influential features of the German scene, as well as the shape of synth-pop to come. It’s a complex and busy historical moment with huge ramifications for almost all of subsequent electronic music, and The Man-Machine really creates a microcosm of that whole environment. There’s also the fact that each side of the record has one track from each of my three broad groups, like an expertly-designed sushi platter or charcuterie board for us to sample from, and they both follow the same formula: a pop appetizer, a cosmic *entree,* and motorik for dessert.
*The Man-Machine* also has what is almost certainly the most iconic cover of any of Kraftwerk’s LPs. This is how lots of us still picture them in our minds, and it’s inspired tons of parodies and riffs over the years. I think all of that acclaim is deserved! Emil Schult’s graphic design for the album was heavily inspired by avant-garde Soviet artists of the 10s and 20s, chiefly El Lissitzky. These visual artists used their art to express their hope for a new world, defined by the promise of technology, and their literally revolutionary philosophy--so what could be a better match for Kraftwerk’s electronic revolution in music? Lissitzky used bright, primary colours, straight lines, and geometric shapes to convey the “built environment” of modern cities and man-made architecture, and you’ve got all the same sentiment on display here. The use of strong diagonals really draws the eye and lends this image a lot of continued visual interest. It’s also worth noting the extent to which Kraftwerk’s aesthetics inspired later electronic acts almost as powerfully as their sound. When you picture an electronic band, and get a mental image of stiff and stone-faced musicians behind synthesisers wearing shirts and ties, you can certainly thank Kraftwerk for that, as well.
I also love the title of The Man-Machine! The relationship between people and technology is one of, if not the, most central themes in Kraftwerk’s entire discography, which is full of references to anthropomorphic machines as well as mechanically-mediated humans. The particular choice of the phrase “man-machine,” as opposed to words like “android,” has a fun vintage flair to it, which matches the use of early 20th Century visual art quite nicely.
As might be expected from the album’s stylistic diversity, *The Man-Machine* would prove to be something of a transition point in Kraftwerk’s career. Their 1981 follow-up, Computer World, would return to the song cycle format, but with increasing emphasis on ideas from the pop sphere, championed by percussionist Karl Bartos. By the time of the last classic-lineup Kraftwerk LP, 1986’s Electric Cafe, they had not only amped up the pop, but also incorporated influence from the electronic dance music of the time. Ultimately, Bartos would leave the group, chiefly due to discontent with his treatment by founding members Ralf Huetter and Florian Schneider-Esleben, and their persistent lack of musical productivity.
On a somewhat lighter note, my personal favourite track on this album is its opener, “The Robots.” Per my typology from earlier, I classified this as a pop-oriented song, and it certainly is an approachable one that’s proven to be quite popular. But it’s got just enough more experimental touches to keep things quite interesting. From an ominous, dissonant intro, a slightly more pop form, hinting at a verse/chorus structure, soon emerges and contrasts. I love the groove of the rhythm and percussion here, as well as the very heavy vocoder, rich in texture and certainly a Kraftwerk staple.
While the lyrics can be read as sort of light and silly, I like to think that the robots in question might also be dangerous. The track “Metropolis” seems to reference the seminal 1927 silent film of the same name, which is famous for its portrayal of an evil, mechanical doppelganger. Likewise, the choice to translate the lyrics of the song’s interlude into Russian is likely inspired by another great work of art from this era: the stage play R.U.R.--Rossum’s Universal Robots. Written by Karel Čapek in 1922, it’s the progenitor of the “robot revolution” trope in science fiction, the source of the word “robot” for autonomous machines in almost every human language, and one of the first entries in the illustrious career of an author who helped make Czech a true literary language. While the titular robots take time to assure us that they’re programmed to do what we humans want, should we really trust them...?
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grimmseye · 5 years ago
Text
Expectations
Read on Ao3: here!
Fandom: She-ra and the Princesses of Power
Pairings: Entrapta/Hordak
Characters: Entrapta, Hordak, others mentioned
Tags/Warnings: Post-Finale, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Hordak
Prompt from @spiderlondon: "Entrapta starting to feel so much pressure from everyone in her kingdom that she breaks down crying. I could see hordak snarling at her subject and/or hug her to his chest until she calms down some"
Politics had never been Entrapta’s thing. Way back when, her parents programmed a pair of AIs to mimic their own decision making process, and the small nation of Dryl was left to it after their demise. Princess Entrapta had never learned their laws, or the law-making process, or the judiciary system, or really anything that princesses were allegedly supposed to do. There were the bots and there was probably a council of living people to account for those they represented, and Entrapta had never been informed if there was a problem with that. 
Apparently, sometime after joining with the Horde, the AIs had been dismantled. A part of her grieved them, the last pieces of her biological parents. The ones she’d constructed were destroyed in a lab accident years ago, at an age where she’d realized she didn’t need robots to read her stories or carry her to bed and tuck her in at night. At a certain point, their doting had become counterproductive to her projects, and just being able to pace herself as she pleased was best.
That was unrelated to the situation at hand. Extraneous data, things that didn’t need to be considered for this particular conundrum. The problem was that at the end of the almost-end of the world, Princess Entrapta was meant to become the Queen of Dryl. 
Her return from Beast Island came sooner than she appreciated, frankly. She and Hordak had been doing important work in determining what could be salvaged and what needed to be completely and mercilessly destroyed. They had fun, competing to design the most effective form of annihilation, factoring in environmental impact and showmanship. When the others came to visit, they’d take them up to the best viewpoint to watch as a pile of First Ones’ tech was dissolved in flashing, multicolored flames and spiraling rockets that burst in the sky.
And then the message from Dryl arrived.
Hordak was granted temporary leave from his duties, as Entrapta required her lab partner’s presence, no matter how much people grumbled about his tyranny. And besides, he’d never actually seen her original lab. She was sure he’d appreciate the complexity of the Crypto Castle, though perhaps not the inability to navigate it. The Fright Zone, by contrast, had an efficient layout despite its daunting appearance. 
Their ship, reconstructed from salvaged materials and her understanding of Darla, shot over the restored lands of Etheria. Biology wasn’t really her field of interest, but she just may have to take a step into it as she gawked at the creatures below. So many new beasties had woken up with the restoration of magic. The First Ones’ designs especially made her eyes shine, as they were a fascinating splice between the biological and mechanical, which provided all kinds of resources to study with regards to neural integration that could revolutionize prosthetics — 
“ — and it’s really a shame that all of Horde Prime’s data got trashed in the final battle but between you and Kadroh I’m sure I can figure out how you integrated ports into your central nervous system.” As she spoke, Entrapta poked Hordak in the back, in the space between those ports. The skin surrounding them was sensitive, according to him.
Hordak’s brow scrunched. He just tended to do that, whenever Kadroh came up. The whole Wrong Hordak thing hadn’t exactly been well received, but she propped herself up on her pigtails to smooth out the crease with her thumb. “Can I? Study you?” she asked, giving him an enormous grin.
Hordak stared at her, his expression flat but his silence telling. From him, the lack of a no meant that — “I suppose that would be fine. Though I would have thought with as much poking around as you do, you would have already figured that out.” 
“Not at all!” She gushed. “I’ve only collected sufficient data on how they integrate with your armor, but I haven’t even scratched the surface of what it does with your body. Once I figure that out I could make further improvements to your exoskeleton to boost its sensitivity — I really am going to have to start picking up biology at this rate, hmmm.” She drew her feet up, hair forming a cushion under her legs. 
Hordak gave a huff, but she knew he would say something if it actually upset him. 
As the first peaks of Dryl’s mountains came into view, their conversation quieted. Most of the nation was formed from spread-out mining operations, the towns reliant on their dig sites. She vaguely remembered issuing money out wherever a dig produced something new and interesting to study, skimming the details to skip right to the good part before authorizing the transfer. Her bots took care of the rest. 
Her bots had taken care of most things, before she joined the Horde. It had been a rougher transition than she liked to let on, moving into those sprawling halls. 
Entrapta felt Hordak come up beside her at the window, peering down as well. His presence helped soothe her nerves. The Fright Zone had been a home to her, but it only really became that once they started working together. “Tell me about this place,” he said. 
Entrapta faltered. “It’s — well Dryl is one of the smallest kingdoms in Etheria, but we built it right on top of a First Ones’ hot zone! Most of it is ore mining — iron and adamantine and such, but on occasion we’d pull up First Ones’ tech, like that chip that infected Adora’s sword!” 
A smile crossed his face. “That’s why you were so familiar with First Ones’ technology,” he observed. 
“Yep!” She plastered on a smile of her own without real enthusiasm.
The silence stretched out, longer than she thought it was supposed to. Or maybe he was just thinking. It was nothing, probably. She was just getting into a tizzy over nothing. 
Hordak cleared his throat. “What was… growing up here like? I know that the Horde did not take interest in your kingdom until you… fell into our grasp. A critical error on my part, though perhaps one made for the best.” 
Entrapta could recognize his attempt to compliment her and apologize all at once. Hordak was weird like that, but at least he didn’t act other than how he felt. People would say they weren’t upset when they were, and seemed to expect her to figure out the truth. It was nice, having someone who meant what they said, even if she had to dig a bit to find its meaning. 
“Entrapta?”
“Huh?” She blinked, tearing her gaze from the window. 
Hordak was frowning at her. “You didn’t answer the question.” 
“Uhhhh.” As he opened his mouth to repeat himself, she burst out, “Oh right! Yeah, it was great!” And she got to launch into all the intricacies she’d installed in the Crypto Castle, uncertain why he was frowning through it. As the castle itself came into view she squealed her excitement, tugging on Hordak’s arm and pointing, shouting, “There it is, see!” 
She watched him from the corner of her vision, how his frown lingered on her before he slowly turned his gaze to the window. 
The ship banked down, landing rougher than she would like, but all things had their quirks. They were in one piece and that meant flight was a success. She hopped down the ramp, taking in a lungful of the air, the scent of metal and dust tasting of home. 
They’d landed upon the cliffs above her old castle, and Hordak strolled to the edge to look down upon it. “This is an impressive fortress,” he commented, smiling. “Sturdy walls, even from above its navigational system is unintuitive. Excellent design. Where is the way down?”
“Right here!” Entrapta scooped him up with her hair pulling him over the edge of the cliff. He shouted as she cackled, her hair catching in rungs she’d bolted into the cliff, too far apart for any humanoid arm span but perfect for the length of her pigtails. She pushed off the rock to land on the bridge that connected her tower, only to drop again and corkscrew down its support and onto a rooftop. 
She spun Hordak into her arms, dancing him around as she laughed. “That was fun! I haven’t ever brought another person with me!” 
His ears were waggling in the way they did when he was dizzy — recalibrating the bit of the inner ear that handled balance, she was sure. “Warn me, next time,” he snapped. Even when he got short with her, he didn’t shout and roar like he used to. Softening, Hordak looked aside and added, “But yes. It was. Fun.” 
She cackled and took his hand. “Let me show you around!” Her hair grabbed a hatch in the roof to pull it open and swing them inside, another lock grabbing her pad to pull up a map of the labyrinth. There was so much he had to see. 
Her old lab was in a sorry state. Entrapta had almost completely cleaned it out when she was moving into the Fright Zone, and now she had to frown at the disconcerting sight of an uncluttered workbench. 
“This is way more disappointing than I thought,” she stated, hands on her hips. Her voice rose into a loud groan, lamenting, “I wanted to show you my cool lab!” 
When she sighed and looked at him, she found his eyebrows raised. Entrapta gave a bashful laugh. “When I heard your lab was called your sanctum, I thought it was classy.” She rubs the toe of her boot on the ground, smiling up at him with a blush. Truth be told, she’d gotten a little bit of a crush on him the same day she’d entered his lab. He called it a sanctum and hoarded tech and knowledge of the likes she’d never dreamed of, it was impossible not to get the butterflies. 
It makes him smile, a hand lifting. “I am certain that —” 
A sharp blip! Interrupts him. The smile vanishes, turning to glower at her pad. Entrapta taps the notification, pulling up a video of a balding man in a spiffy-looking suit. 
“Your highness!” The man exclaimed. She saw his eyes flit, how he gave a start when he noticed Hordak at her side. “And — and — o-oh my.” 
Hordak growled until Entrapta pushed him away with her hair. “Hello!” She chirped. “Who are you?”
“I — you don’t —?” He frowned, then shook his head. “Nevermind. I am councilman Wren!” 
“Uh-huh.”
“I… am the head of the Council of Dryl?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I and the other council members are meant to have a meeting with you, today.”
“Uh-huh.” 
“... Could you tell us how to get inside?”
Entrapta gasped. “Oh!” She clapped her hands, squeaking in delight when one of the dusty bots animated. “Go show them inside. Bring them here! No! Bring them to the dining room! Do we have a dining room?” The bot nodded. “Bring them to the dining room! And then bring tiny snacks! From the ship!” 
“Your Highness —” 
She closed the video feed.
For a long moment, Entrapta stared at the black screen. Then she realized she was being stared at, and looked up to see Hordak’s red eyes fixed on her. 
Feeling self-conscious, she hunched her shoulders up. “What?”
Hordak blinked. “Nothing,” he claimed. Then, pausing, corrected, “It is strange to hear them address you in that way.” When Entrapta only cocked her head, he said, “Your Highness. At times I forget…” 
“That I’m a princess?” Her mood plummeted. “I’m not, really. It’s just a title.” 
She hugged herself with one arm, holding onto her own bicep as she shuffled out of the room, the pad guiding them to the dining room she apparently had. Behind her, Hordak stammered through several false starts, never getting more than a word out. 
Entrapta didn’t recognize any of these people. Not their faces, not their names. They all bowed and offered a hand, and only stared at her when she gave them a lock of hair. Bow had kissed it, she remembered, with a pang of first intense fondness and then disappointment. She wished her friends were here. Not because Hordak wasn’t enough, but because the others made it better. 
They sat around a rectangular dining table, as the bots brought out the tiny cupcakes and fizzy drinks she’d stored in the ship. Not a single member of the council touched their food, and even though she had no qualms with popping the sweets into her mouth and lounging in her seat, she couldn’t shake the distinct sensation that she was doing something wrong. 
They’d been droning on about something for way too long. She’d broken out her tool kit to start fixing up the bot’s blinky eye, mask snapped over her face and hair bristling with tools. These old things were charmingly dated compared to what she’d been working with. Not obsolete, she only scrapped things when they could no longer go on, just adorably simple in their design. Hordak had introduced her to a world of new ideas, one that was only expanding with each day — 
“Princess Entrapta!” 
The sudden snap made her jerk upwards, yelping as she rapped her knuckles against the metal eye socket. 
She looked up, searching for the speaker but only finding Hordak glaring across the table. “Lower. Your. Voice,” He growled, and Entrapta found Councilman Spanner shrinking in his chair. In a steadier tone, Hordak looked to her, asking, “Princess Entrapta, what are your thoughts regarding the deconstruction of Horde Prime’s spire in Dryl?”
The title gave her pause. He never used her title that way. A derogatory princess at times — though these days it was teasing — but the sound Princess Entrapta was alien in his voice. She kind of liked it. And she really liked him. 
She curled a lock of hair around his ankle, squeezing it in thanks. “The spire, right!” She chirped. “We are absolutely gonna salvage everything we can. First Ones’ tech is advanced but what Prime was using exceeds even their sophisticated designs. The code they were working with was practically a living creature, it was constantly adapting itself, building and breaking its defenses to an almost unpredictable degree, but as you know true randomness cannot be achieved by —” 
“Anyway,” Councilwoman — Bradawl? — Bradawl cut her off, leaving Entrapta to deflate. “Who are you placing in charge of this project? Who are they hiring? How will they be paid? What precautions should they be taking?” 
“Uh — uhm,” Entrapta raised a hand, but another voice piped up. 
“In addition to that,” Councilwoman Pliyer stood up, hands planted on the table, “What of the towns that were destroyed in Prime’s attack? The refugees in the cities? All of our most critical mines were commandeered in the attack and may be too dangerous to allow citizens to return to work, how do you intend to restore them to functionality?”
“I’m — hold on —” 
“We cannot hold on, Your Highness.” It was Councilman Wren again, voice nervous as he wrung his hands. “I understand you are not suited to this job but the unfortunate fact remains that you are the only heir to the throne of Dryl and without the programs the former king and queen left behind, their responsibilities fall to you.” 
A cold chill poured under her skin. Entrapta hugged herself, hands rubbing up and down her own arms. 
“Your Highness,” Bradawl said, “If I may be frank?” She stared at Entrapta, waiting until she got a nod. “You have not made the best decisions for Dryl in the past —” Her eyes spanned to Hordak, “ — and your citizens lack faith in you. I believe that you must focus on rebuilding your image, while we make sure the cogs are turning smoothly.” She let the words settle.
Entrapta didn’t know what she’d expected to get out of this. She slumped into her seat, staring at her knees. Her nails bit into her skin, dragging scratches up and down her biceps. 
“With all due respect, Princess, I would recommend that you cede these decision-making promises to us — your council — and that you fulfill your duty as the figurehead of Dryl.” Bradawl was smiling, now, voice smooth as silk. “After all, it is hardly as though you were their ruler in the past. There is no need for us to throw Dryl into further turmoil —” 
“That is enough!” 
Hordak was on his feet, slamming his hands down on the table. The council silenced, all eyes on him. Even Entrapta stared. His image was blurred by tears she was barely holding back, but she could see him shaking, the snarl of his teeth, ears pinned back in fury. “Shut your pathetic mouths at once,” he spat. “If I hear another word from you I just may elect to put your tongues to better use as slop for the worms! You. Will. Not disrespect Princess Entrapta in this way. Now be silent, and remove yourselves from her castle at once.” 
There was quiet. Then, Spanner squeaked, “But what of Dryl —” 
Hordak roared and smashed his hand into the table. His claws tore through its cloth and into the wood, splintering around his fingers. The man went pale as the others scrambled to their feet, making a hasty exit without so much as a bot to guide them. 
“Send your requests by message. I see no need for Her Highness to endure the sickness of hearing your voice.” Looming over Spanner, Hordak sent him one scampering for the door. He remained poised over the table — over her — breathing hard and growling with every breath. 
Entrapta burst into tears. 
It welled up too quickly for her to stop, the tears pouring down her face and sobs hitching in her throat. Hordak was there in an instant, snarling violence replaced with a gentle yet faltering voice. “En… Entrapta.” 
Embarrassment flushed her skin, and she reached up to pull her mask over her face. Delicate fingers stopped her, before Hordak spoke again, sounding more certain: “May I hold you?” 
She had to consider it before nodding. Touch was good today. He lifted her into his arms and sank into the chair, holding her in his lap. His claws combed through her hair, awkward at first but gaining a smoother rhythm. 
“Do you…” He trailed off. “Want soup?” 
It caught her so off guard that Entrapta started snort-laughing through her tears. His face went red, ears leveling, his face caught in such goofy embarrassment that she could only laugh harder. 
“You said it makes you feel better!” He growled, defensive. Even the fingers in her hair felt petulant. 
Entrapta sniffed, then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It does, thank you,” she smiled. It crumpled in an instant, the good feelings draining away. “I’m just — they’re right, though.” 
“How are they right?” Hordak glowered at the door they’d run through. “Nothing they said indicated they possessed the brain cells required for critical thought.”
“I’m really not meant for this,” she said. Entrapta arranged herself more comfortably, sitting sideways across his lap, her temple leaned into his shoulder. “I didn’t learn how to be a princess. I’m just going to mess everything up if I try. And I don’t —!” She sat upright, stopped, and slumped against him again. Quieter, she finished, “I don’t even want to do this. I don’t know why I’m all in a tizzy about it.” 
“They were disrespectful,” Hordak insisted. “If ruling is not a position you want, we can figure it out together. Perhaps with… the other princesses.” It came out begrudgingly, and she had to smile. She knew he still felt strange around them. Hordak sighed, then nuzzled into her hair. “We will figure it out. But anyone who attempts to undermine you will be crushed. … In a nonlethal manner.” 
The disappointment in his voice made her break into giggles. She slid her arms around his shoulders, content to just be held for a little while longer. They would figure it out together in time. That was what lab partners were for. 
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crestomanci · 4 years ago
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Chapter 2
For God’s sake, did I behave that badly throughout these fifteen years to deserve this? And what did they expect me to do? Did they expect me to go to a country of which I’ve never even seen a picture, assume the throne that I “gained” just by chance and take care of a child and a baby? And how come they can “take me by force”?
           I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts, then got up and took off my clothes. I thought that taking a bath could help me, so I turned on the shower and tried to think of what I should do first. I eventually concluded that I would figure out everything I could about my mom and maybe after that I could untie a lot of tight knots that were tangling my brain.
           I got out of the bathroom, wore my most comfortable pajamas, that was one of my dad’s red flannel and blue pajama pants I got as a Christmas gift three years ago. When I left my bedroom, my dad had already left and I took that as an opportunity to sit on his armchair, bringing the box he showed me earlier closer to me.  On the box, there were a lot of pictures and newspaper articles about her. And she was pretty! Wavy blond hair and big brown eyes that looked like mine. According to the articles, her name was Caroline Marie Rodriguez DeValence II (well, that sounds like a royal name) and looked happy in most of the pictures. I mean… She was smiling, at least. As far as I knew, there was nothing about me or about her life when I was born, but, in between the pictures, I found something that surprised me.
           Inside an old envelope, with only a stamp on, there were a lot of pictures and when I realized what they were all about, I gave up on the rest of the box to focus on that specific envelope. They were pictures of me with her. Pictures of which I could obviously not remember, but now that I saw them, it was as if I could feel the love she felt for me. Among them, one got my attention: we were close to a fireplace, she was sitting on a big and white armchair, wore kind of a navy-blue blanket and I was on her lap, with a little dress with lots of laces and, as I narrowed my eyes to look for the details, I realized the laces were pink and white. In the pictures, the ones she was holding me were different from the others. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t looking at the camera. She was looking at me. Without even bothering if there was a camera. And she smiled differently than in the other pictures I saw on the box. In another one, I was laying down on her lap and she was holding me, facing her, or the camera. There was one in which I was sleeping on a baby crib… Another thing that I noticed was the resemblance. I looked like her in a peculiar way, but I didn’t know how to explain.
           I checked the hour on the clock above the TV and it was past midnight. I gathered all of those pictures again and put them on the box, then took a deep breath. What was I supposed to do now? The first option that came into my mind was: go to sleep. Tomorrow I have school, right? Or will they take me tomorrow? By the way, who would take me there?
           I got the box again, willing to learn more about the place my mom ruled, but, as I was about to open it, a red light crossed the room and I stopped.
           “Dad?” I called and then I saw the light again, crossing the room and disappearing. After that, I heard a gunshot.
           I ran to my dad’s room and opened the door, finding him on the floor.
           “Nick, get down!” he shouted.
           As I looked down, I noticed that the red light was right on my chest, so I got down quickly and right after that a gunshot hit the wall in the corridor.
           “What’s this? What’s going on?” I shouted, crawling to my dad.
           “I don’t know. They told me they were going to get you peacefully. They said they needed you.” another gunshot. This time, it broke the window and there were pieces of broken glass everywhere. My dad wailed and I noticed he was shot.
           “You’re hurt? They shoot you!” I screamed and attempted to look for my dad’s phone.
           “I’m alright. You need to get out of here, Nick” he asked, holding his right arm so that I couldn’t see the blood mark.
           I shake my head. I wouldn’t leave him there and I didn’t know what to do or what was happening. When I found the phone, I pressed the button to unlock, but when I was almost calling 911, someone broke into the front door.
           It was the end. To me and to my dad. I held him in my arms and kept typing, until I saw the shadow of a tall man coming into the dark room with a gun in his hand.
           I closed my eyes and waited for death, but it didn’t come. I heard the noise of gunshots and felt as if the man was coming closer, until everything stopped.
           “He ran away.” I heard a robotic voice coming from the radio.
           I dared to open my eyes and besides seeing that my dad was still alive, I saw the tall man, the same I saw when I came home after work, staring at me.
           “Then get here. We need to take the princess.” and, then, he turned off the little device he was using and squatted down. “Everything is fine, Princess Nicolle. You’re safe now”.
***
             After being led by counselor Isaac (because I couldn’t move), he started to help my dad and, after that, he introduced himself and told us that we just faced a terrorist attack. Someone followed him and Jean - who was another member of Combellmont royal guard -, discovered where we lived and waited until dawn to attack. They thought it was a kind of “total cleaning service”, in which neither me nor my dad should have survived.
           “Princess, do you mind if I start to gather your stuff or would you like to leave them here?” I heard Jean ask and I stared at him.
           It took me a while to remember that they needed me to pack my bags to go.
           “I’d rather you call the ambulance and let me take my dad to the hospital!” I begged.
           “Impossible.” he said and crossed his arms. I kept staring at him.
           He wore a black suit and was tall, but he had more muscles than Isaac, which made his suit look tight around his arms. Isaac had brown hair and his eyes were narrow and brown too. As for Jean, he had black hair and dark green eyes that were waiting for me to react.
But I heard a painful muffled moan coming from my dad and noticed that Isaac took the bullet that shot his right arm, closer to his shoulder.
“What the-”
“Nick, everything is fine” I heard my dad saying, as he was holding onto the kitchen balcony.
“He needs to go to the hospital.” I said.
“No. We can’t risk your safety. If, after we leave, he still wants to go, we’ll call an ambulance.”
“What’re you saying’? He’s coming with me! I mean, I’m only leaving if he leaves too!”
“Nick-”
“No. Don’t even bother.” I shouted. “I don’t know where I’m going to, I don’t know what I’ll do, but whatever you expect me to do, I’ll only do it if my dad comes with me.”
Jean and Isaac looked at each other and I didn’t know why it looked like they were having fun. My dad was staring at me, holding his shirt that now was ripped off and had a whole due to the gunshot.
“If I say that he’ll come, will it make you come faster?” Jean asked, coming closer.
If his intention by getting closer to me was to make me frightened, it didn’t work. If he wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it when he entered the apartment, but it didn’t happen. He was there to help Isaac to take me, so he wouldn’t hurt me, would he? Testing the courage I’ve never used before, I got up, crossed my arms and walked towards him.
“Yes.” I replied.
After that, Jean smiled as if he was talking to a little kid.
“Pack your bags, princess. We’re taking you both to Combellmont.”
Leaving the apartment was a ridiculous process. As I tried to put everything I didn’t want to leave behind on my bag and helped my dad to do the same, I heard Isaac and Jean calling the police and minutes later two police cars arrived with their lights on, but, thank God, with their sirens off.
“I ask them to come discreetly.” Isaac complained between teeth.
“They are police officers from a small town, Isaac. Whoever attempted this attack will not come back. They probably know they shot someone and, after that, you got in the apartment.”
“For God’s sake, princess! Get out of the window!” Isaac shouted, entering my room and putting me away from the window.
“Hey! No touch, please” I said, trying to get away from him.
Isaac let me go.
“We can leave now, princess.”
He grimaced and rolled his eyes. I took my backpack and purse, but Isaac moved himself and took them away from my hands. After that, I went to my dad’s room to help him out, but he decided to take only a backpack. Beside my stuff, I asked them to take the box that had pictures and articles about my mom, and my dad sealed it with duct tape everywhere he could.
After a while, we were being escorted by Isaac and Jean and all of our neighbors were watching us. As far as I could tell, we would be the subject matter for tomorrow’s gossip in town, and this was confirmed when we got into a black Mercedes and were escorted until the border of the town by two police cars.
“We are flying solo, Charles. We’ll be there in about an hour or so. Everything is clean until now. You know what to do. Reserve the entire floor and prepare the princess’ suite.” Jean ordered his phone and after hearing a short answer he hung up. “Tighten your belts.”
I obeyed and soon I found out the reason for that order. Jean drove at high speed and everything was blurry.
“Hey, I don’t know how y’all drive in your own country, but here we have rules and transit plates” I warned and felt my dad holding my hand.
Jean looked impatient and nervous. He pressed the steering wheel and took a deep breath before telling me: “I’m sorry, princess, but that’s necessary since we’re only two trying to deal with an emergency.”            I couldn’t explain why but I got pissed off whenever he called me princess. It didn’t feel like I was a princess at all.
I held my dad’s hand and kept staring at the blurry road.
Even at dawn, New York looked chaotic and its lights were quite hypnotic, but when we stopped by a hotel, I couldn’t control myself and got really euphoric. That is, until Isaac opened the car door and I had to pretend that everything was normal.
“Here you’ll be safe, but I recommend you stay away from the windows and don’t talk to anyone but your dad.”
I arch my eyebrows without answering and followed Isaac, as Jean was behind me and my dad was by his side.
“Just to be clear: we can’t afford this place” I said, looking around.
Everything was golden and white. The reception was huge and, since we passed by the revolving door, I counted five chandeliers until we got to the front desk.
“Yes, you do. Not officially, but you do” I heard Jean saying behind me.
“Good night, gentlemen. Who placed the reservation?” the receptionist asked before I could comprehend what Jean was saying.
“Combellmont’s royal guard” Isaac informed and handed in a card with small and golden letters.
The receptionist opened up her eyes in shock and noticed me for the first time, then kept staring at me for a couple seconds. Then, she typed something really fast and handed in two cards for two different rooms. She wished a good night, took the phone and started talking to someone.
“C’mon” my dad said and I followed them around.
We headed to the elevator and stayed there for an eternity. To my embarrassment, every time we stopped somewhere, Isaac and Jean didn’t let people get in, until we arrived at the floor in which I would stay the night and I counted three more guards waiting for us. One on the left side, one on the right side, one closer to a door. The door to my room.
“Good night, Isaac. Jean.” The one closer to the door greeted the two and looked like he was trying not to laugh.
“Step away from the door, Charles.” Jean replied, rolling his eyes.
Charles pretended like he didn’t hear it at all and then bowed at me.
“Good night, princess.”
“Good…?” that was all I could say.
Charles looked a lot like Jean, but had more hair, bigger cheeks and less muscle. He didn’t look like he was a guard, but one of my classmates, maybe one of those that were addicted to sports and that stuff.
“Step away from the door, Charles.” Jean repeated.
Charles moved away and Jean opened the door.
“Your suite, princess. Your father will be in the other room. As I’ve said, please, stay away from the windows. I’ll stay here, watching your door, so if you need anything you can call me.”            I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t say anything. I had nothing to say, actually. So I got inside the room and Jean came after me, putting my backpack in front of the bed while putting the box and my purse on the bed.
“Good night, princess. We’ll head to Combellmont tomorrow” and, after realizing I wouldn’t say anything, he left.
End of the chapter. Let me know if you liked! Don't forget to comment, like and shared with your friends. See y'all soon! 💜
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mrsrcbinscn · 4 years ago
Text
Baby Hour || March 3, 2021
Takes place March 2-3, but it’s been done for over three weeks and I’m posting it early just so it can be here
feat. @laszlowrobinson​ and old Petunia and Cornelius
cw: childbirth, not super graphic but like, discusses what you’d expect
-
March 2nd, 2021
5:03 PM
FRANNY:
 One thing nobody tells you about being pregnant is how difficult it got towards the end solely on account of your own head. Franny could deal with the discomfort and having to pee nine times an hour, because ultimately, that was nothing compared to the waiting. Franny was counting down the days until her March 11th due date and it had long since stopped being a fun, cutesy thing to post on Instagram. 
 Now she was just mad. She wanted to hold her baby already!
 Sovanna had been considered full term for like a week! It’s been safe for her to come out so why not hurry up and be born, huh? 
 Franny sat at the breakfast nook, sipping at some orange juice, and running a hand over her belly. God, she couldn’t see over this thing almost. She couldn’t wait to feel sexy again and not like Saturn. Still, she couldn’t say she was exactly miserable. Even at her advanced maternal age (hey, only forty-one!) her pregnancy had gone well and both she and Sovanna were in excellent health. Beyond excellent, even! Dr. Leonard even said that despite the initial concern for a c-section being required due to her lopsided uterus, Sovanna was positioned right where she needed to be for a vaginal delivery to be possible. 
 She’d done it— almost. After twenty years of trying and being heartbroken when her body refused to begin to or continue to create life, her second child was coming. Soon, she’d get to cuddle her little girl to her chest and let her suckle at her breast and she would get to watch her second little baby grow. 
 How lucky she was to get that privilege again so long after Wilbur had been small. 
 “Cornelius, will you tell her to hurry up?” Franny whined. “Maybe she’ll listen to you. She’s being stubborn and not just being born already.”
 CORNELIUS:
Cornelius had taken a few months off. A few months being, the first half of this whole year. It had come sudden to those he worked with, but the transition itself had been smooth thanks to his team. Honestly, a lot smoother than his anxiety filled brain had thought it would have gone. But he was pleased. And they kept him updated if there was an emergency of sorts that might need him.
 Thankfully, there had been none.
 He’d been using the time to continue to prepare for the baby, but to address his lackluster job as a partner and father. He was trying to spend more time with just him and Franny before they had a crying baby on their hand, but also with trying to reconnect with Wilbur. 
 Honestly, it was nice to take time off. Really, take that time. He didn’t realize how much he needed it.
 Infact, he was catching up on some reading he’d put off for years now when Franny spoke. He looked up, and smiled fondly. “I’m sure I can’t exactly make the call on that,” He laughed. “But - alright. Sovanna, don’t you want to join us already? Your mom is getting impatient.”
 FRANNY:
 When Franny didn’t immediately feel any sharp pains in her sides, she took that as a resounding no from the little one. 
 She chuckled and smiled down at where miss stubborn was hiding and shook her head. “That’ll be two middle fingers up from her, Dad.”
 With a sigh, Franny stood from her chair and reached up to tug her hair out of its ponytail. She’d taken a shower this morning, but even in March she felt burning hot at all times, and sweat enough to need at least two showers a day. Today, probably three.
 “I’m going to hop in the shower. Then I’ll figure out what to do for dinner.”
 Franny winced as right as she was finishing up her shower the now familiar ache in her lower back began to bother her. Sovanna must be beating up her sciatic nerve again, she thought. Pregnancy was much more painful that she’d ever anticipated. The discomfort was a known fact, the ouch was just a mean surprise nobody prepared you for. 
 As she dried off best she could with her nine months pregnant limited range, her sciatic nerve made sure to send occasional reminders that there was a baby in there making it very unhappy. Jesus, what can she do about it, huh? Not like she can command Sovanna to be born. Childbirth wasn’t like crying-- nobody can do it on cue.
 5:45 PM
 “I don’t know what to do for dinner. I’m not hungry at all.” She complained, flicking up the kitchen faucet’s handle and sticking a finger under the flow of water to wait for it to warm up. “Maybe I’ll do something with the butternut squash we’ve got. That requires effort.”
 Franny’s back, feet, and every other bit of her was telling her to sit down, relax, don’t bother with dinner.
 She made to turn back to Cornelius after washing her hands to start cooking when the dull pain in her sciatic nerve spread to her sides...and as she winced and gripped the countertop, she thought maybe it wasn’t her sciatic nerve at all. Franny’s eyes met his and she just muttered, “Back pain.”
 Probably, right? She wasn’t due for another week. Wouldn’t it hurt worse if it was actually time? And shouldn’t her water break?
 They probably still had a few days to go.
 CORNELIUS:
Cornelius was focused on his book, highlighting a couple of lines that stuck out to him. Maybe Wilbur would enjoy this, he thought to himself. They could go back to discussing robotics more like when he was younger. He’d like that a lot…
 A smile came to his face as he played back the memory of him and Wilbur in the lab, trying to keep up with his son's questions. He wondered for a moment if Sovanna would have any interest in science. He glanced up after another stroke of his highlighter with a hum. “You know, you don’t have to worry about dinner. The twins are offering to make…”
 He didn’t finish though. He trailed off as the words died on his tongue and his brows raised curiously at Franny. Back pain was usual, he learned, with pregnancy. In fact, a lot of pain was usual. But how she was now gripping the countertop and looking at him...the way her brows furrowed together…
 Something was nagging him in the back of his mind, but everything he’d read or seen talked about water breaking and - and wouldn’t you know if it was time to have a baby? He was a man, after all, so he wouldn’t know that feeling. But he assumed a woman would know - right?
 “...are you sure, dear? Maybe you should sit down.”
 FRANNY:
 Franny exhaled heavily and nodded, resting a hand over her belly. Yeah, sit. That was probably for the best. She really didn’t need to be super wife right now, not when she was bound to birth a baby any day now.
 “I’m fine. I think, anyway.” She smiled, though it wasn’t quite convincing. “I’m going to try and get comfortable on the couch, I’ll shout if I need anything.”
 She pressed a kiss to Cornelius’ cheek and wandered into the living room and unplugged her phone from where it had been on the charger, only to change her mind about checking e-mails. Her brain was taking maternity leave early, thanks.
 After a good twenty minutes of trying to get in a comfortable position, Franny threw her hands up and accepted her lot in life as an uncomfortable pregnant lady. And for a minute or so, that was fine. Until once again the pain she’d felt in the shower and in the kitchen struck again.
 “Fuck,” she hissed, clutching her side. “Ow.”
 PETUNIA: 
 Petunia had been doing her best to be a mediator in the house as of late, a funny idea if you asked her. What with Wilbur going through so much at school and needing a shoulder to rest his weary head upon and both Franny and Cornelius definitely needing someone to talk to about pregnancy and childbirth, she found that it was.. kind of nice to be needed this way. She certainly couldn’t complain.
 Petunia had been watching a stupid house renovation show just to have some noise on in the background while she texted Seamus about what he and the boys were up to for the weekend. She thought it was rather amusing, watching him run around with those youngsters. Lachlann certainly helped both sides with how charmingly youthful he seemed.
 She’d greeted Franny with a small smile when the woman had first sat down but, now, after twenty minutes of her niece-in-law’s fussing, Petunia was rather curious as to what the young woman was doing. Certainly, pregnancy had been uncomfortable once she’d grown about as large as Franny was but it didn’t usually--
 Oh.
 “Franny, dear, how frequently are your twinges acting up?” Petunia asked, attempting for nonchalance. “Have you been keeping track?”
 FRANNY:
 “Jesus, Petunia!”
 Franny damn near jumped -- see, a part of Franny’s brain registered Petunia’s presence ages ago. A part of her brain waved in greeting before she sat down. Most of her brain already forgot.
 “Uh, what?” Franny thought about it for a moment as she nervously played with her hair and frowned at her split ends. Christ, she needed to get Petunia to fix that Yesterday. “I don’t know.”
 There was the shower, after the shower, in the kitchen, and now...about an hour and fifteen minutes had elapsed from the first one until now. (Granted, Franny can’t do math so she was just guessing.)
 “A few times an hour, maybe?”
 PETUNIA:
 Petunia smiled gently when Franny jumped, attempting at not laughing. She knew she tended to sneak up upon people at times. It was a big house and people expected not to run into people not too terribly often despite the number of people living there.
 She mulled over the information, recalling how often she had been encouraged to wait before heading to the hospital. She’d been told about five to ten minutes between each contraction. If it was a few times an hour Franny probably still had more time, should her hunch be correct.
 Of course, these could always be Braxton Hicks contractions but better to go in than pretend they weren’t happening.
 “Well, dear, we need to start timing them. They’re going to need to know at the hospital, after all.”
 FRANNY:
 Timing them, why? Franny almost asked.
 Instead she said, “At the hospital? Why would I need-- oh. Oh. Wait, you don’t think…? Do you?”
 Her water hadn’t even broken, isn’t that like, sign number one you’re in labor? Then again, didn’t some women say the doctor had to handle that at the hospital? This was too stressful, why can’t the baby just manifest into her arms like Christians teach their kids babies do.
 “Should we tell Cornelius now or wait? He’ll want to go to the hospital right away, I think he’s more worried about me than I am.”
 PETUNIA: 
 Watching Franny’s realization was, well, funny. Petunia certainly hadn’t watched that many ladies go into labor since she had well passed her own carrying age. When her friends back in L.A. or New Zealand had done so everyone had been freaking out and screeching and making a huge deal of it... only to be sent home because they had gone in much too early and the moment had been ruined time and time again.
 She would try not to do that to Franny.
 “It’s entirely possible, darling. A week or two early is rather common, after all, and if they’re coming as frequently as you claim then.. I imagine you’ll be seeing little Sovanna rather soon.” Petunia shrugged. As excited as she was to meet the little one, she knew that she had to be the calm one since, well, she didn’t imagine Cornelius was about to be.
 “I would say we need to start the timer now and, if it’s in ten minutes, we’ll go grab Cornelius. I don’t want to cause any unnecessary trips or any unnecessary fussing. Believe me, the trip home because you’re not far enough along is rather irritating.” She’d been so disappointed when that had happened with Laszlo.
 FRANNY:
 “You think? It might be baby day? Oh, I hope so. I’d hate for Cornelius to spend his birthday at the hospital tomorrow.” Though, if it was spent at the hospital waiting for Sovanna, maybe he’d forget it was his forty-fourth birthday at all.
 God, she hoped they got to meet Sovanna soon. She’d been pregnant long enough! Now she just wanted to hold her baby and feel her warmth in her arms. It’s been baby o’clock!
 “I just want to cuddle her to my chest already, it’s been long enough. Too long, if you count how long we’ve wanted her.” All the pain she put herself - and her husband - though over the years, finally, was paying off with their second child coming.
 She waited, tapping her foot with nerves the entire time, as they waited for the next twinge of pain. Ten minutes came and went -- but not fifteen. Twelve minutes after Petunia set her phone timer, Franny inhaled sharply and nodded as if to say ‘there it is!’ 
 PETUNIA:
 “Darling, I think Sovanna’s decided it’s time and she’s trying to steal daddy’s spotlight for birthday excitement,” Petunia teased. Certainly sounded like a Robinson with that go-getter look-at-me spark. They weren’t exactly a subtle crew, Cornelius being the most subtle of them all and still managing to be the center of attention.
 Petunia squeezed Franny’s arm as they waited, her eyes flickering back and forth from the timer to the pregnant woman before her. Ten minutes passed and Petunia nodded solemnly. So not quite the time, yet. Once they hit twelve and the surge began again Petunia stopped the timer and stood up.
 “Alright, you tell me when it stops so I can start again. You’re doin’ great, sugar.” She knew it wasn’t easy to wait, Petunia’s patience had always been thin even before the curse. “I think little Sovanna’s gettin’ ready to meet you.”
 FRANNY:
 “Am I? I feel like I’m --- I should be losing my mind right? Why am I so calm I mean, I’m shaking a little, my hands. But other than that.” Was she somehow not taking this seriously enough?
 Should she be shouting and demanding to go to the hospital?
 No, reasoned the logical side of her brain. Petunia had two babies, she’d kick you out the front door herself if she thought it was time to get doctors involved.
 “...okay, it stopped.” Franny said through partially grit teeth.
LASZLO: 
Being the irresponsible person that he was, Laszlo had come home from school and promptly crashed on his bed for a nap. Because at any given opportunity to sleep, he was going to ensure to take it. 
 When he woke up, with blurry eyes and wrinkled clothes, he shuffled down stairs. His first stop had been the kitchen to grab a glass of water, chug it, and then refill it before ambling off to figure out where everyone else was. 
 This didn’t take too long. But in a house with this many people living in it (even if the place was huge) it never did. Unless they were all trying not to be found for one reason or another.
He sat down with Franny and his mum— oblivious to whatever it was they were doing. His attention was what was on the television, watching as some person with good teeth was talking to the camera about...what? Cabinets?
 “Which one is this?” he asked, gesturing to the screen with his glass full of water that lapped worryingly at the sides. 
 PETUNIA:
 “Truthfully, Franny, it’s not all that exciting until you are actually at the hospital. This part, the less frequent surges --because people call them surges now to sound more positive-- is the boring part. You’re also probably in shock.” Petunia patted her shoulder, glancing over at her son that had joined them. He seemed.. out of it, seemed as though he were a little sleepy.
 Petunia set the timer again at Franny’s announcement, setting the phone back onto the table with an encouraging smile. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. It’s almost time.” She knew that it was scary, her proof that she could point to was just beside her as she spoke.
 She reached out to touch his hair gently, just as she had done so frequently as he’d grown up. “You need a haircut again,” she mused. “It’s a house flipper or something,” she answered his question with a roll of her eyes. “Surprised you’re not more excited about Franny right now, love, or is this a brave face?” The question was posed with a quirk of her brow.
Must’ve been a long day.
 FRANNY:
 “Oh, well it's hardly exciting at this point. They could just be a false alarm too-- my water hasn’t even broken yet.” 
 Franny had a habit, or, a talent perhaps, of saying things right before they ultimately did happen. ‘At least it’s not a tornado warning’ Franny said when a tornado watch flashed across the TV screen in high school; only for sirens to go off minutes later and her whole family huddled in a bathroom. ‘At least Wilbur didn’t catch the flu’ she said more than once, after she, Cornelius, and his parents all battled the seasonal flu, only hours before Wilbur finally showed symptoms.
 ‘My water hasn’t broken yet’ Franny said, right before she got the feeling that she’d just peed herself right on the couch. She blinked, gasped ‘oh’ and looked up at Petunia.
 “I...either I peed my pants, or...I spoke too soon.”
 LASZLO: 
Laszlo hummed, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to understand why everyone was so up in arms over a certain type of granite that was out of stock. This same confused expression held at his mum’s odd question. Brave face? Why would need to have a brave face? 
 It was a Tuesday evening. There didn’t seem to be anything special about that. 
 But before he could ask what it was she meant, Franny spoke, making Laszlo choke on the sip of water he’d just taken. He sputtered, sitting up to try catching what liquid his coughing fit was trying to expel. 
 “I’m sorry, but what?” His head went back and forth between his mum and Franny, as if they were in the middle of a tennis match, before stopping to stare straight ahead. “Which one of you wants to try to explain what I’ve just walked in on? Because I’m assuming it’s not to do with redecorating!” 
PETUNIA:
 Ah, Franny had jinxed herself and Petunia, who was sharing the space on the couch grimaced as the world decided to choose irony for them. She scooted half a spot away and tried to assess the situation. So the surges were about twelve minutes apart and now her water had broken. She hummed as she mulled over the information. The question was whether or not she was going to be rushing this.
 As Petunia opened her mouth to respond --though what that response would be she did not know-- Laszlo finally seemed to grasp what was going on around him for half a moment. She couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled from her lips at her son’s antics. She didn’t mean to laugh at him, didn’t mean to embarrass her sweet baby like that, but he certainly had been slow on the upkeep.
 “Franny’s in labor, Laszie,” Petunia explained gently. “Her water’s broken, we’re recording the time between surges, it seems little Sovanna’s on her way.” She sighed, turning her attention back to the woman in question. “Deep breaths, darling, and I know a lovely shop in NTO that’ll be able to clean the couch.”
 FRANNY:
 Right, so Franny was going to ask Petunia to go and grab Cornelius soon anyway. It’s not like she was going to exclude her husband from his part for much longer, she just knew how much he worried over her, and loved her, and cared about her. He would have wanted to go to the hospital right away and like Petunia said, they could always tell you to just go home if you weren’t far enough along.
 And Franny was much too pregnant and far too uncomfortable to climb in and out of a car multiple times today, thanks.
 But then her water broke on their relatively new couch (less than two years old meant new) and Laszlo was there and if Laszlo was up to speed, Cornelius should be too. 
 “Um, Lasz? Can you...grab my husband? He’s reading a book at the breakfast nook.”
 LASZLO
For a few moments all Laszlo’s mind consisted of was a flurry of rapid: ohmygodohmygodohmygod— then it settled and focused in on the fact that the baby was coming!
 Which alerted the part of his brain that said people need you to not be a clown right now, pack up the court jester bells for tonight. Jokes would only be used when necessary from this moment forward! ...probably! 
 “Right! Yeah! I can—“ He stood, circling around in one spot like a dog as he tried to work out what to do first. Walk? Set down water? Say?? Words? Laszlo put the glass of water down, giving it a loving tap that told it he would be back for it sometime in the future before taking off to go get Cornelius. 
 Then he stopped, turned right around, and made his way around the back of the couch so he could grab Franny’s head and place a kiss on the crown. “Thank god she’s early, I dunno how much longer I could have held out.” 
He went to leave again, giving his mum two thumbs up before disappearing in the right direction this go around. 
 Moments later he slid on the tile, catching himself with both hands on the table by Cornelius. He plucked the book from his cousin’s hands, tucking it under his arm. “Good news! Franny’s in labor! Bad news! Well—Franny’s in labor. So come on, let’s go, up and at ‘em! You get your wife and I’ll get everything else.” 
 CORNELIUS: 
Cornelius had actually just finished his book. It had been a good read. He was glad he hadn’t forgotten about it after all these years when he added it to his reading list. A list he had assumed he wouldn’t touch until retirement. But now, he had time. He had a lot of time. So much so, he almost didn’t know what to do with it.
 Little did he know that maybe the rest of that list would have to wait for retirement.
 And when he was contemplating what to do next, which was maybe head to the lab, Laszlo literally slid in, giving Cornelius a start as he snatched the book from him. “I - what?” He started, the words storming his mind like knights storming a castle.
 And then, they broke in. And then - it clicked!
 “Shit! Franny!” He said, jumping up, knocking over his cold coffee in the nook without noticing and moving towards the door - then running back in to lean in the doorway. “Where is she?” He asked frantically, his eyes searching his cousin as if the answer was written on him. “And where - where’s Carl?”
 “Here! Laszlo and I will get the baby bag as I call the doctor!” The noodly, yellow robot said as he seemed to appear from the other end of the kitchen, wearing an apron with cleaning supplies stuffed in the pockets. “I’ll tell Wilbur too!”
 FRANNY:
 “I knew that’d be the reaction,” Franny said, chuckling as she looked over at Petunia. “Oh, Wilbur won’t want to know he’s- well, I suppose you should. I’m fine! Uh, I mean, it’s really not that ba--aaaad, okay, I lied.”
 As another contraction hit, this time it was properly painful, Franny clutched the arm of the couch with one hand and tried to make herself stand up to make for the car. She was not going to pull a Seth Myers’ wife and accidentally have this baby at home, nope. Franny gripped Petunia and Cornelius’ arms to steady herself to make it to the car.
 “Uh, Petunia. I think it's best you drive. These two are losing it and I’m in labor so that leaves you.”
CORNELIUS:
“I’m not - I’m not losing it,” Cornelius sputtered. But that was wrong. He was. He was unraveling, unsure what to do despite having read up and prepared for this moment for some time now. All that mental training and preparation had gone out the window. “...but yes. Petunia. You drive.”
 And she did. There was no time to call anyone else to do it, and she was the most level headed person here. So they piled into the car, Cornelius doing the only thing that could keep him calm and counting between Franny’s contractions. Her face twisting in pain every time definitely made his heart leap into his throat, unsure what to do.
 Except counting. Even now, numbers were his friend.
 The trip to the hospital of course was short and they quickly got Franny admitted, Cornelius following along wherever the doctors wheelchaired his wife too.
FRANNY:
10:15 PM
 “Four hours. Four hours we’ve been here and the doctor is telling me I’m only four centimeters?” Franny hissed as she paced the room. “Ouch!”
 No, she wasn’t bitching about a contraction, although, that wouldn’t be far behind probably. That yelp was because she was gesturing far too wildly and she smacked her hand right into the cabinet where her personal items were kept.
 “That’s not even halfway.” She whined, and was about to keep bitching until another contraction hit, making her gasp in pain and lean against the wall. “Fuck,” she grit her teeth and dug her nails into the palms of her hands, as if that could possibly trick her brain into focusing on that pinprick pain than the pain of labor.
 Cornelius asked her once an hour so far if he needed to call the nurse for an epidural.
 If my mother could have me at home without one, I can do it without one, she’d said the first time.
 Slowly that confidence was waning. 
 CORNELIUS:
Cornelius jumped up - he’d been rather jumpy since they’d gotten to the hospital - and rushed to her side to check her hand. “Please, be careful, dear…” He said, flipping her hand over before looking at her. “Why don’t you sit?”
 Then she made that all too familiar face. It was the one she’d made with each new contraction, bracing herself against the pain, but it was always unexpected. It made him pull his own concerned face, looking to her stomach. Then back to her eyes.
 By the second hour, he’d learned to stop asking if she wanted a nurse. He knew she’d be very vocal when she wanted one.
 “Come on, sit,” He encouraged, trying to usher her back to the bed. “You may as well get comfortable. I don’t know how long we’re going to be here…” 
LASZLO 
With the news all settled into everyone’s heads and the baby bag with the parents of said baby that said bag was prepped for, Laszlo knew he had nothing more to do. Which was awful. He was so terrible with waiting. Usually he would pass those times by simply sleeping it away. This was different though, since his excitement and worry made him all jittery. He couldn’t even sit still in the waiting room. 
 And even though everyone had said it would probably be for the best that he just wait it out at home, come when t he knew he would just be doing the same thing there. At least at the hospital there was some sense of comfort at being in the same building. He’d walked the halls (that he was allowed into) a few dozen times, had spoken with several other people waiting for news or an appointment, and gone through at least 100 levels of Unblock Me on his phone. 
 At the next hour mark he popped up from his seat and slipped passed to go find Cornelius and Franny’s room. He gave the door a little knock before opening it wide enough to stick his head and arm through to wave. 
 “Hi. Sorry to bother, but um— well can I get either of you anything?” Laszlo looked back and forth from his cousin to Franny and back again. “Anything at all? Even if they’ve already forbidden it? Maybe especially so, then it might give me more of something to do than wear holes in their floors.” 
 FRANNY: 
 Franny reluctantly agreed to sit down, biting back a comment about how there was no such thing as comfortable right now. 
 Another thirty minutes passed, her general discomfort periodically interrupted by contractions and Franny would grip the bed or Cornelius’ hand and hiss. 
 Laszlo poked his head in right in the middle of one and Franny just snapped, “Drugs! One of you get me the goddamn drugs or I swear to god Cornelius, I am never having sex with you again!”
 She grit her teeth as the pain began to subside — for now. 
CORNELIUS:
Cornelius looked to Laszlo when his head popped in, ready to ask for maybe a coffee from downstairs to keep his younger cousin busy, when the grip on his hand grew vicious. He jumped, and looked to his enraged wife, eyes widening. His head then turned back to Laszlo.
 “Uh, yes - I’ll go get the doctor, dear,” He said, quickly standing up and walking to the door, looking back to her then Laszlo before shoving him lightly towards her. “Here, take a seat with her for a moment, I’ll be right back!”
 And then he made a mad dash around the halls to find their doctor.
March 3rd, 2021
2:40 AM
FRANNY:
 “Eight and a half centimeters.” Dr. Brenneman had said when he checked thirty minutes ago, and Franny breathed a sigh of relief that there was only a centimeter and a half to go until it would only be a matter of minutes until she got to hold Sovanna.
 He sent the nurse who’d accompanied him to tell the rest of the delivery nursing staff — and the two medical school students Franny had agreed to observe her labor and delivery — to come back in the room. With Cornelius holding her hand and Laszlo and her brothers huddled together against the window, offering moral support from a safe distance, it all felt realer than ever had before. 
 Franny laughed and, courtesy of the pain meds, forgot all her inhibitions when she said, “You know, I should be really embarrassed that like six strangers have stared at my vagina in the last seven hours. But I don’t care!” She clapped a hand to her mouth and chuckled behind it. 
 “Ten centimeters.” Dr. Brenneman announced, unphased by Franny. “Okay, once the baby crowns you can start pushing, I’ll tell you when.”
 CORNELIUS: 
With Franny medicated now, Cornelius could stress and panic enough for the both of them. It was really happening. Sovanna was about to be here any minute and he still felt so nervous. He glanced up to the window, getting a nod and a thumbs up, before looking back at Franny.
 “It’s all medical, dear, no need to worry anyway,” He said. “Nothing really to worry about…” He said, patting the hand he held gently. Quietly wondering if it was about to have the life squeezed out of it. His heart was pounding, and when the doctor gave the update, it seemed to get louder. 
 Could anyway else hear that?
 He looked to Franny then the window then the doctor. Then once again, back to Franny. “Ready, honey?”
 FRANNY:
 Ready?
 It was such an innocent question and until Cornelius asked, she would have said yes. Yes of course she was ready. She was ready to hold her baby, and ready to not be pregnant anymore, and ready to be the mom of two awesome kids, she was ready. And she also wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to bring her sweet little baby into a world that could be as cold as it was wonderful, she wasn’t ready to face the reality that eventually her daughter would grow up just like her son and eventually go into the world all on her own.
 Franny didn’t answer and instead lightly shook her head, about to mutter about how she wasn’t sure, but then the doctor told her it was time to push and her body somehow knew exactly what muscles to focus on and there was nothing at all on her mind except channeling her strength where she needed it.
 Dr. Brenneman coached her through a few attempts, until Franny began to cry tears of frustration.
 “I’ve been doing this forever!” She hissed, flopping back against the hospital bed. The epidural took away much of the pain but the discomfort of having part of a tiny person pokin’ outta you was still present.
 “Pushing is a one step forward and two steps back situation, Miss,” said one of the delivery nurses, a tattooed young man from Ireland named Sean. “You’re going great!”
 “It doesn’t feel like it. Cornelius-” Franny actually didn’t have anything to say after his name. She whined her husband’s name all pitiful and defeated, like she was about to beg him to do something, anything.
 As if he could. Childbirth was a wild ride.
 “Come on, we’ve got part of her head, we just need to get the shoulders and we can pull her out.” Dr. Brenneman urged. “Push!”
 Franny’s deathgrip on her husband’s hand grew ever tighter and she followed the doctor’s command. One more, one more, she told herself -- over and over. 
 “I c-- I can’t, I can’t.” Franny said at one point, but Sean pouted and clapped back, ‘yes you can! Are you a badass or not?’ “Watch it young man, I’ll kick your ass!”
 “Gotta push that baby out first.” Quipped one of her brothers -- she didn’t know which -- from their spot over by the window.
 “Fuck you, Art!” She decided it was probably Art.
 A beat.
 “One more push, come on, you can do it!” Said Dr. Brenneman.
 Franny closed her eyes, sat up at a different angle that just felt like she’d be able to focus on those muscles better, and after that she didn’t remember anything else until she fell back hard against the pillows and a froggy cry broke through the excitement of the room.
 “I’ve got her!” Exclaimed Sean the Irish nurse.
 CORNELIUS: 
Cornelius almost toppled over from Franny’s grip on his hand. When had she gotten so strong? And would he be able to use this hand after this? Both of those questions would have to wait for later though, because right now he had to focus on his wife, trying to soothe her and encourage her to keep going.
 “Almost there...almost t-there!” He said, his voice rising on the last word from another strong squeeze from her grip.
 It felt like forever, but when he heard the cry, the scream, he sighed in relief before his heart soared. That was her. Sovanna. And she had a pair of strong lungs on her it feels like. He moved closer, wanting to get a look at his little girl as the umbilical cord was snapped. And then she was handed off to Franny - still a mess, but there.
 She was there, after all this time.
 Something in his heart squeezed. He looked up to the window, then back to Franny. Then to his daughter, realizing just now that he was crying. “Hi...honey. Hi, Sovanna…” He said, his voice hoarse from tears as he leaned over them. 
 FRANNY:
 Sovanna was placed in her arms and Franny felt the warmth of the little human that had been tap dancing on her bladder for the last nine months. Her crying quieted a little, to softer, small sounds of ‘what the hell, did I just do a getting born?’ and she wiggled as if to try and get closer to her mother. 
 A sob caught in Franny’s throat as she cradled her daughter to her chest and gazed down at her, still a mess because she’d only just come out of her. That’s her! The little human Franny had been growing inside of her for most of 2020, here she was. Now Cornelius could experience everything that she got to and it wasn’t from the outside as her partner anymore. 
 Franny turned to kiss Cornelius’s cheek before she kept staring at Sovanna. “She’s so little, I — are these even hands? Look how small these fingers are. That’s such a cliche thing to say, toes and fingers...but look! Cornelius, she’s here.”
 By the time she finished, she was crying too. 
 Messy as Sovanna still was, she couldn’t help but kiss a spot on her head that looked pretty clean even before Sean the nurse had time to move in with a towel to dry the baby. 
 “She’s breathing just fine,” Sean explained. “So we don’t have to take her to assess her, she can stay right here. Do you plan to breastfeed?”
 “Uh, yes?” Franny only sounded uncertain because she was still wrapped her head around the whole Sovanna was just born thing. 
 “Have you before?”
 “Our son is adopted, no.”
 Sean suggested Franny open her hospital gown so he could explain to her how to get Sovanna to latch once she got hungry and reminded her to just call for a nurse if she was having trouble. 
 “She’ll wiggle her head from side to side probably when she’s hungry. That means she’s looking for where the food is. Watch out for that, and that’s all you need to hear from me.”
 Someone promote that young man, Franny thought. 
 After the medical staff cleared the room and Gaston gestured for Art and Laszlo to follow him out to give them a minute, Franny did as nurse Sean suggested and laid down to just let Sovanna lie on her stomach with her gown open for skin-to-skin bonding time. 
 Eventually, Sovanna did start to wiggle about and inchworm her way to Franny’s breast for a snack. 
 “Oh, sweetheart, I was just about to tell your father to hold you,” Franny said, chuckling as she helped her latch on. “Fine, but don’t make him wait too much longer. Daddy loves you very much and is anxious to hold you and kiss you.”
 As Sovanna snacked, Franny finally began to feel tired and also process what just happened. 
 “I just had a baby,” she laughed, pointing down at Sovanna. “We made and my body grew a whole baby, and she’s right here. God, birthing a baby is exhausting, zero out of ten stars. And— oh! Cornelius, it’s your birthday! It’s March 3rd. Oh, she was born on your birthday! Hear that Sovanna? You’re Daddy’s birthday present this year.”
 Sovanna must not have been very hungry because after a short while she decided she was full and went back to quietly lying on her mother’s chest, just staring wide-eyed at nothing. 
 “You wanna say hi to Daddy? He’s been very patient. You’re gonna like him, he’s the best and your mommy loves him soooo much.” Franny tapped Cornelius’s hand and whispered, “I think you’re good to hold her now.”
 She waited for Cornelius to take her and ran her other hand over the light wisps of hair Sovanna had been born with and chuckled when she realized they were curly. “Aw, I think she’s going to have your messy curls. Look.”
 CORNELIUS: 
Franny just had a baby. 
 And was somehow still forming full sentences like it was nothing. Along with jokes. Somehow, she was still surprising him to this day.
 But nothing could surprise him more than actually seeing his own child in her arms. Wrapped up and resting quietly. Very different from the bloody, crying image she’d first been when brought into the world. Then again, he supposed they all looked like that in the beginning.
 That was not the point though, Cornelius.
 Franny held her out to him. He took her into his arms. His daughter. It felt like when he first held Wilbur. Tears and all running down his cheeks as he stared into her little, peaceful face. He saw mostly Franny, but the curls were definitely his.
 “Sorry, Sovanna...I know those are going to be annoying…” He sniffled out, barely able to keep it together.
 FRANNY:
 Franny was not a sympathetic crier, not usually, but A. she just had a baby, and B. Cornelius rarely cried, but when he did, Franny did under the most normal circumstances, let alone right after giving birth to their second child. Her eyes watered as she watched her husband meet their daughter. Just like when they first got to hold Wilbur she thought, he’s going to love her so much.
 As if he didn’t already. Sovanna already had that man wrapped around her tiny, tiny finger. He was doomed.
 “I could just stare at you two forever.” Franny muttered with a tired chuckle. “You’re head over heels for all 46 centimeters and 3.2 kilograms of her.”
 She tried to sit up but winced as she felt just enough pain to tell her to not even try. She had, she reasoned, just given birth and did deserve to just lay down. 
 “I can’t wait until we can take her home and I can hangout with both my babies at once.”
 Because yes, even while experiencing this big emotional Sovanna-centric moment, she was also thinking about her son and how much she loved him and loved being his mother. Franny was starting to worry she might realize his fears of loving Sovanna differently since he insisted that it would be so. Now that they were holding their little girl, however, Franny could say with confidence that holding newborn Sovanna felt just like meeting Wilbur. The only difference was how they came to be in their arms. 
 “Happy 44th birthday darling, enjoy an entire baby.” Franny joked, barely stifling a yawn. She pouted and whined, “I wanna stay awake and admire my hard work, but I’m so tired. How’re you awake, little lady? Ain’t bein’ born exhausting?”
 Sovanna did not understand English yet so she only responded by staring up at her father and making a couple content baby sounds. 
 “Mm, yes, that’s fair. Gazing lovingly at your daddy is my favorite hobby too. He’s very easy to look at.” Franny winked at him — oh? We’re flirting not an hour after giving birth? Okay pain meds, go off. 
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whenimgoodandready · 5 years ago
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(patriotic music plays) In 1777, Lafayette was commissioned by General Washington to lead his troops in the American Revolution which led them to victory! This alliance between the French and Americans was what brought the holiday, The French-American Friendship Week🇫🇷🇺🇸. (record scratch) Okay, so it’s not a legit holiday cuz it was strictly made up for plot purposes on the show, but the events did happen as Americans and French are allies. History repeats itself so let’s see if our French heroes can ally with the American heroes in this very first Miraculous World trilogy of traveling:
Miraculous World
•New York – United HeroeZ-We start with a big damn intro that Thomas was probably inspired by other movie productions such as the “20th Century Fox” with its spotlights, “Universal” with its globe and even “Disney” with its Enchanted Castle. They even had an orchestra with the “Miraculous Ladybug” theme song playing (they went all out!). With the millions this show made it’s no surprise am I right or am I right!? Huh? Huh? Huh? HUH!? There’s a lot that went on in this special, and I know you’re all informed by it, even with the side stories, but I’m not gonna type all that went on and just put in the Pros and Cons so it can be faster. Let’s go:
Pros:
•The Space Powerups-Meet Cosmobug and Astrocat! Finally! We got to see their space forms and they looked pretty alright. Except they never really went to space and I would’ve preferred they did while battling some alien akuma, but it was still nice to see it. I liked Ladybugs space look best.
•The Native American Miracle Box-The final treat of the special and we see another miracle box and it’s guardian! Our first look is the Eagle miraculous which is a talon necklace that has an eagle like Kwami named Liiri who grants the user the power of liberation (which can be used for both good and evil). This was given to Sparrow who got promoted from sidekick to an independent hero! Congrats Sparrow! Fellow miraculers, I give you, Eagle! (trumpets sound). There was no eagle in the Native American zodiac, but I guess it’s part of the five pack and not the main duo like the Chinese Miracle box with its zodiac. There’s always the basic 12 zodiacs, the five elements and the two most important good/bad luck miraculouses. The guardian for the Native American miracle box was a chief like man who was stern, protective, and serious, but with a sense of understanding as he allowed Sparrow to keep their miraculous and start a new generation of supers with the rest thanks to Uncanny Valley.
•New York Heroes/Villains-Get this folks, Majestia, that superwoman Alya is a huge fan of, is real! Yeah! And Knightowl, Principal Damocles hero, is real too! Yeah! There’s barely any fiction in the Miraculous Universe and all we see, is real! These supers are amazing! There’s other heroes too, such as Snowflake, a snow elemental hero, Hurricane, a weather hero, Doorman, a portal traveler, Victory, a patriotic hero and Hot Dog Dan!? (record scratch). He’s uh, uhhhhhhh, a temporary power bestower through magic hot dogs?.............riiiiiiiiiight (clears throat). They’re enemies are a pirate themed technopath named Techno-Pirate (we already have Captain Hardrock for that, but I guess this is their American equivalent of it, so okay. (mutters under breath disappointedly) Wanted something more unique, but okay). Unlike the French heroes, the United Heroez don’t fall under the cliche of secret alter egos bulls*** and everyone in New York knows who they are (even the villain). I guess it’s cuz they’re mostly composed of courageous and righteous adults whereas Team Miraculous, are a bunch of insecure and awkward teenagers. Whomp! Whomp! Whomp! Not giving teens a bad name! The sidekicks of Majestia and Knightowl are Uncanny Valley, a robot girl, and Sparrow, a gadget wielding/combatant masked hooded youth, respectively. They’re the only ones who have to hide their identities (minus Knightowl for spoilers below) cuz they’re just children, but still badass cuz Aeon (aka Uncanny) figured out who Ladybug and Cat Noir were and reunited them to help save New York and Sparrow earned their wings to fly solo as a real hero.
Cons:
•Mr.Pigeon-(face palms) Hawk Moth, do you seriously want your wife back? Or are you just f**king stupid!? 51 TIMES!? (groans loudly and exasperated) You ARE mad and desperate! I understand it’s a kids show and some would find it funny that he keeps showing up, but older kids (and adults), would not! It’s no wonder we’ll be getting a new Hawk Moth in the future. One that actually creates formidable villains and not constantly recycles their old ones!
•Unnecessary Drama-So the plot said Marinette “convinces” Gabe (he had villainous intentions) to let Adrien go to New York, but Ladybug told Cat Noir to stay in Paris to watch out for any akumatizations while she’s “away”......well, we know that’s gonna be an issue, but there was no need. Adrien thought he had a plan to solve this by using his Akuma Alert app to check up on any danger in Paris and fly back quickly as Astrocat to signal Ladybug with this tiny black cat alarm she left him to come and help. Really? That’s the drama Hawkdaddy put in to spice up the special? Why couldn’t Ladybug just download the same app and use the Horse miraculous, which grants the power of teleportation, and fix the possible emergency herself!? If anything, she didn’t need to tell Cat to do jacks***! I understand the Akuma Alert back in “Riposte” cuz that happened during the show where the Parisians were getting accustomed to these attacks, but now, after what’s been a year already (in-universe), you’d think Marinette/Ladybug would be prepared to have that app like Adrien/Cat Noir, but no! She didn’t! Instead, we get this ridiculous, utterly ridiculous little black cat gadget that’s used for a dumb joke! Did Astruc not remember what he did on the show in the past seasons? Look back on your work, honey! IT’S CALLED RESEARCH! Ugh!
•New York stereotype-Like I mentioned up there with the United Heroez, Hot Dog Dan iiiiiiiiiiiiis not the most useful of supers cuz he sounds too stereotyped what with the setting being in New York where you can find a hot dog vendor (there’s even a hero named Captain Redlight who controls the traffic signal lights!) and he uses his powers for fun. That’s not all! Alya romanticized the theme of New York for Marinette and most of the time, we don’t picture that when we think of The Big Apple. When most Americans think of New York, they think crime, honking traffic jams, (911), big corporate businesses and the whole, “Hey! I’m walking here!”. Guess since this is a kids show, they didn’t wanna plant that idea in their young developing minds and just put in the “fun” aspects of New York! I get it. Don’t poison their heads.
That was our first Miraculous World special people. It was “interesting” and I’m sure you’ll agree with it too. I’m gonna elaborate more on the pros and cons of this and then mention the side stories in it. Now that we’ve seen the Native American miracle box, I think we’ll be seeing the American one next. Possibly in the Brazil special. Wonder how they’ll work with that since we have people and an object for our signs. Hmmmmm. I was real glad to see Sparrow cuz we all thought they’d be a scrapped character from the Quantic Universe, but no! They exist! (this was so much better then Felixs introduction). Mercury was even there too! Wow! We got to see the concept art come to life with members of the Quantic Kids! (wonder if Kid Mime might show up later?). Perhaps the whole United Heroez team is what inspires future Ladybug to create her own future Miraculous Justice League from “Timetagger”! What really surprised me was the LGBT Representation! The reveal that Knightowl was a woman along with Sparrow being a girl and that she (Knightowl) and Majestia are life partners with Aeon and Jess (Sparrow) being their children! For the longest time, we the fans thought Knightowl and Sparrow were male when in fact, they’re female! Nice twist there Astruc! The Knightowl and Sparrow are actually legacy heroes where the sidekick would take over for Knightowl and find a new Sparrow all with regardless of their race/gender/sexual orientation. I like that. What I didn’t like was the whole Mr.Pigeon running gag (it’s actually becoming a literal gag! >:P) there’s gonna be a moment where he’ll get called out on it, wait for that! However, it transitioned from overused creators favorite to super anarchy and nuclear war! What a dramatic climatic change! Like I mentioned, Ladybug didn’t really need to involve Cat in the whole emergency situation, but just to emphasize the trust issues between them and input drama into the special (ignoring the plot holes), Astruc gave us a near death scene with poor Uncanny Valley and thank God she was a robot or Cat would’ve gotten a can of whompa** from Majestia. Knightowl wanted to confiscate the dynamic duos miraculouses, but I don’t think they had any jurisdiction to do so. They’re an American super and they’re Parisian supers. However, since this does take place after Season 3, and Ladybug is now the guardian, it’s her choice whether they should or not and her idea was just for the two to run. This also brought the headscratcher of fans on how Ladybugs powers work? She said her “Miraculous Ladybug” power only works on a specific villain and not all villains (like the sentimonster that was shown during Techlonizers attack). Does her power not bring back the dead (that aren’t robots?), can it only fix a cataclysm power from Cat Noir? (shrugs). Unlike “Syren”, Cat quits for real this time! (for about 5mins) It hurt Marinette/Ladybug thinking she was all alone now. A Yang without her Yin. Not a good sign. What Marinette/Ladybug needs to understand is that Cat has a double life too, she shouldn’t assume it would be a breeze for him to watch Paris by himself and that he might have friends and family he can’t explain why he can’t do this and that and make up insane excuses like she does all the time. This wouldn’t be “Miraculous Ladybug” if we didn’t have shippers trying to make Adrienette happen, Alya tries to get Marinette to confess and Nino tries to get Adrien to open up. They get double ship help from Aeon and Jess, but even with the Americans allied with the French on this, Hawk Moth still co*kblocked it. Course with all the major plots involved, they added in several sub plots just to expand the special and fill the gaps such as Ms.Bustier revealed to be pregnant (who’s the daddy?), Ms.Mendeleiev trying to win over the class, Adriens Bodyguards fear of heights and Sabrinas love interest. The special foreshadowed that Marinette/Ladybugs conflict for Season 4 will be learning to move on (same w/ Adrien/Cat Noir) now that it’s strongly implied that Adrigami and Lukanette are canon. See ya all in 2021!
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the-sheep · 5 years ago
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ID GO ABSOLUTELY BONKERS IF U TYPED OUT HIS ENTIRE HISTORY FBFBFBFB i would like 2 see it..........
alright right right
This ended up being A HUGE POST so all info is under the cut.
Unless you’re on mobile, in which case, enjoy scrolling.
It all starts on flight rising. Well, Heart starts on FR. It REALLY starts with my webcomic/animated series.
It wasn’t well drawn or animated at first, but it steadily got better. One of the plot holes, back in 8th grade, was “who created priscilla and Jake?”
It was mostly summed up to “Penny made all the bots its all simple” but i was a middle schooler and i needed a complicated (and edgy) story. 
Thing is I had already made Fandragons of a good chunk of my ocs on flight rising.
I bred two dragons to get my main characters, so why not just use them?
Christy Suggested the name Cavet, and I liked it.
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Yeah this is my first digital image of him as a human and he DOES NOT LOOK RIGHT
no necklace, no beard, orange eyes…
horrific.
So I made human designs for them both, but Chrysanthemum remains forgotten, not even canon to Mechanical Fury anymore.
Here’s old art of her and Cavet back before she got wiped out from existence.
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the art is bad btu the Heart gimmick is there
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Here’s him in his second image ever. The one that pretty much defined his design.He also quickly gained a husband
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Anyway he quickly morphed into a villain several time more dangerous than the main villain
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He’s responsible for the deaths of not ONE, not TWO, but THREE children.
Two his kids, one the younger sister of a character that one of the dead kids liked.
One of his dead kids got his own story, the other was literally a main character.
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Chloride, (Charlie) in all his glory, lucky enough to get resurrected as an android but after finding out he’s not who he thinks he is, has to attempt to live a normal Human life… when his two best friends are paranormal investigators, his love interest having lost their arm and their only remaining sister to the main villain.
He originally found out he was an android by finding his own blueprints, hearing his Mom cry about it, and then cutting open his face (for his signature scar) and running off. 
Running into Cavet’s husband, Nathair Liu. He stitches him up, know all about robotic n all that but he is.
also a secondary villain….
youtube
I hate the art in this video but its not my worst.
(Video was Vendy’s debut, too. tho Vendy was more Nate(logan/mind/princi/whatever)’s kid than Cavet’s)
Okay i’ve gotten off track.
Yeah at this point I was really loving Cavet, on FR, and wrote an entire long story between him and Skittles based on the events of Mechanical Fury.
This was where I got the idea for reincarnation.
I needed an explanation for why the same character was in two different universes, and it was perfect. In fact, it lead to an amazing way to end it. 
But what is in control of all this? What does he see in the in between?
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Well, Death was packaged with two other red herrings to keep people from thinking she was more important than them from the start, when in fact, she was. One of the plot points is that Cavet dies. He continues causing havoc, but nobody can figure out why or how. he doesn’t have a body.
Except he does. Death.
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She was scary, but that was just her, she was a literal robot grim reaper. Nobody suspected she was spreading a virus to make robots susceptible to Augap’s control everywhere she went. Not even her. Cav liked hanging out in the AI scape, AKA the robot afterlife or virtual heaven.
What a fun way to make a real grim reaper.
I never really kept track of the transition from “cute robot char” to “cute real god char”
and i guess it never happened. Heart still thinks of her as she was, as cute little Litty. Except when she’s not. He gave form to the literal concept of DEATH. And became her friend. She still calls him Papa, sometimes.
In any case, Cavet’s doodles started being more and more revolving around his angst with the reincarnation.
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in fact, i had a few character in the same boat as him, as I had made a couple dragons into MF characters as well.
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I called them The Artifacts. It didn’t seem rounded out with only four, so I added a 5th. To give me more leeway in case I make a character i like enough to bring with them.
and turns out. I did.
I was sad enough about Cavet losing the love of his life, betraying him, creating a rift between them with his descent into obsession.
So he came with them.
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They’re inseparable.
after a few lives of getting revenge on him for killing his sons and some adult humans and a BUNCH of robots, (not even counting his crimes in the vampire life he committed because he thought he lost Liu forever) Soul revealed to him something about Heart’s 6th life, which Mind doesn’t remember.
But he was there.
Long story short, he was Captain Shuggazoom. Yeah 10 lives of stuff he forgot before he started remembering his past lives. Messed Heart up.
ANYWAY BACK TO DEVELOPMENT!
I went around, making original characters to fill in Heart’s lives. I put him in a LOT of stories, but a notable one is My Old Ask Blog, @ask-musical-monsters
In which Heart is our lovable Tweedle, Bean.
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He’s the bird. (this is also the blog where Willow was made!) (also a character i referenced when putting antauri on the baldi blog)
I still hadn’t abandoned MF so Bean has a lot of influence from Cavet. 
I REALLY liked bean. It occured to me here-ish that Heart isn’t constrained by being my oc. He can be whoever he wants and nobody will care. 
So of course I immediately declare him purple guy. No drawings of him, but I know I said he was purple guy at some point. Also at this point in time I started organizing the lives by number order, and making a simple arc for Heart and the others to follow.
1000 lives. 
I made a brief description of heart’s 1st life, but made it purposefully very superfluous so i can change it whenever i want. All i know is he had albinism, and a desire to live forever.
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That summer I got an amazing idea. I would take advantage of the Baldi’s basics trend with a ASK BLOG.
It was a mathematically calculated success. I did as many things as possible to generate more audience. MAIN thing being posting as often as possible, and being REALLY funny. 
But knew I wasn’t going to like adding to the ask blog if i didn’t like the main character
I already knew he was going to be Baldi, but I wasn’t sure exactly how to characterize him either. 
Turns out making him heart solved both of those problems. He’s always been Heart.
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And Princi has ALWAYS been mind.
Even if they don’t always show their artifacts, they always were the same people as all these other things ive made. They have a DEEP connection to both each other and me.
At some point, I re-re-discovered SRMTHFG. The first few seconds I saw SK I knew he was Heart. It was so perfect it scared me.
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HE EVEN DOES THE POSE!!!!! RED EYES!!!! AAAH!!!
I got an idea for a storyline based on formless and regret and monkeys… so.. uh
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Anyway that kinda brings us to today, where the events of the blog have happened based on Heart things, and i can play around with Heart as much as I want.
And Willie’s next life? Well, 23 is my favorite number. It’ll be cool, but I’m not sure how. All I know is 23 wears a striped shirt, and is a vamp again.
In summary, Heart is the most important character I’ve ever made, and I will never come close to anybody as wonderful and as complicated as him. He’s the greatest formless, the best villains, the heroes, and one character i want to hold out for finding irl.
 I love them even in scribbles i find on bus seats, in fanart of him, love her in songs i hear, in flowers i see in the wild.
Whoever they end up being, it’s safe to say I’ve fallen in love with Heart. 
If you want me to describe his in universe story, I’ll need a seperate post.
Other Heart Resources:
The Spreadsheet
The Playlist
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reimenaashelyee · 6 years ago
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Inspiration and Calling
“Where do you get your ideas from?” “How do you choose which book to do?”
The short answer is, I don’t know?? Or rather, I can’t explain it. Or RATHER, I don’t think the real answer will be helpful, or even make sense, to anyone else except me.
Inspiration
Personally I don’t think anyone should worry so much over when or where their ideas will manifest. They will come.
But before we understand what I mean when I say “chillax, bro”, let me address a couple of assumptions about inspiration:
Inspiration as a Set, Determined, Concrete Process.
“If I don’t figure out how Inspiration with a capital I works, I will never find it. I will never be a real artist.”
What I’m referring to is this prevailing idea that that there’s a mystical Ideas Machine inside your head you need to find that, once you activate it, will instantly and forever feed you ideas, confirming your destiny as a creator. I mean, isn’t that the core implication behind “where do your ideas come from?”? It implies that there is a routine that all seasoned creators have obtained; a hidden knowledge to be passed down; a videogame-like skill to be levelled up to. Basically, people who ask this question… who don’t ask it solely out of plain, mundane curiosity… are looking for a clue to unlock their Ideas Machine.
What ends up happening is like the hundreds of Pocket articles I have read that tries to crack the code of what makes a start-up manager or self-made billionaire Productive. You wake up at 4 am. You drink the purest herbal tea from the Organic Highlands. You use the Pomodoro. You put robots in your brain. It’s hopeless. How one person finds inspiration or productivity is so individual that really, there is no One True Answer. No guaranteed process. No Ideas Machine.
Equating inspiration as survival or work.
This is the danger zone, imo. You know why? People who draw or write for fun (usually as a hobby) never ask where ideas come from. They just draw. They just write. The first time the question enters a hobbyist’s mind is when they transition from creating for themselves to creating beyond themselves; that is, to put up work for an audience, to get a book deal, to start a creative career. Some people remain stuck in this questioning stage and panic over whether they are a real artist who can make money if they can’t find the mystical Ideas Machine that seasoned creators seem to have. And we already know that doesn’t exist.
Which is why I think there’s no need to worry about the time and place of ideas/inspiration. There’s no need to find a process, or to base your capital value as a creator on the production of ideas. Just chillax bro. Eat a delicious meal. Watch a Netflix movie. Lie down on the grass. Laugh with your friends. Be cheerful, live well. As long as you’re living on this planet and experiencing the joys of society like Uncle Karl says you should, your brain will know what to do. Inspiration will come.
TL;DR be patient. Trust yourself. And eat your favourite dessert sometimes.
Marx recognized that the science of capitalistic economy, despite its worldly and pleasure-seeking appearance, “is a truly moral science, the most moral of all sciences. Its principal thesis is the renunciation of life and of human needs. The less you eat, drink, buy books, go to the theatre or to balls, or to the public house [ Br., pub], and the less you think, love, theorize, sing, paint, fence, etc., the more you will be able to save and the greater will become your treasure which neither moth nor rust will corrupt — your capital. The less you are, the less you express your life, the more you have, the greater is your alienated life and the greater is the saving of your alienated being. Everything which the economist takes from you in the way of life and humanity, he restores to you in the form of money and wealth. And everything which you are unable to do, your money can do for you; it can eat, drink, go to the ball and to the theatre. It can acquire art, learning, historical treasures, political power; and it can travel. It can appropriate all these things for you, can purchase everything; it is the true opulence. But although it can do all this, it only desires to create itself, and to buy itself, for everything else is subservient to it. When one owns the master, one also owns the servant, and one has no need of the master’s servant. Thus all passions and activities must be submerged in avarice. The worker must have just what is necessary for him to want to live, and he must want to live only in order to have this.” (link)
P.S: UNCLE KARL IS TELLING YOU TO TREAT YOSELF. That’s praxis!!
Here’s another quote I like that’s also relevant, but less “destroy late stage capitalism” and more “wow isn’t the world beautiful”:
Develop an interest in life as you see it; the people, things, literature, music – the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.
Henry Miller
That’s my answer for “Where do your ideas come from?”. The ideas comes from being alive. To develop and grow that garden of ideas – that is, life – , you have to immerse yourself in it. Not for money. Not for comments or followers or social media. Not for external confirmation that you’re a Real Creator. But for your own joy. For the love of living. When you immerse yourself in the garden you lose yourself. That’s what Henry Miller is talking about.
When you give in to the garden, it gives back to you. Being alive is inspiration. Inspiration is being alive.
James Webb Young’s five-step technique for producing ideas touches upon how living life is essential to creativity.
Calling
“How do you choose which books to do?” is more esoteric. I think the answer is more a Reimena Yee thing than it is most artists’ thing, though people like T.S. Eliot have come pretty close to describing my answer:
I choose the book which compels me.
This thing is not easy to describe. I don’t know. I am not sure if other comics creators operate primarily like this, or think of their work this way.
It’s different from the feeling
of finding a concept you want to write about
of being overexcited and hyperfocused by said concept
of self-indulging
It’s all of those feelings, but there’s an edge to it.
I have a few ideas in the backburner. Some of them are books I want to do. Some are books I really, really want to do. And one or two of them are books that compel me.
The sensation is like finding the perfect pet in the animal shelter. You see a dog or cat and come back to it over and over again. You can’t explain this feeling you are feeling, this deep-in-the-gut instinct that you’re meant for this animal. Eventually, you listen to your gut, you take the plunge, and you bring it home. Turns out, you’re right.
That’s what I mean by “compelling”.
There are certain books which I return to over and over again. In the beginning, the special book plants an imagery in my mind’s eye, then it plays it repeatedly. If this doesn’t stop after a year, and if I still feel like I’m meant for it, I accept my calling and take it.
But accepting the book comes with the simultaneous feelings of excitement and fear, joy and resignation. When I actually work on it, there’s not really a hyperfocus or overexcitement. It’s more like I’m listening to what it wants to be, and I carve it into existence slowly. When I feel the joy it’s not exactly self-indulgent… more like relishing in a purpose. It’s work. It’s a calling.
Sometimes a calling will be equated to passion. People talk about passion like it’s a feeling that burns and consumes you and motivates you to work through unreasonable hours or expectations. You know, the passion that exploitation thrives in. That’s how you know you are a Real Artist, they say.
But I have never felt passion like that? When I experience passion, I feel that I love the work. That I want the calling to happen. But there’s no anxiety in it. I don’t feel that I must get it done quickly or cater it for mass appeal, though I do have a preferred deadline and a hopeful expectation for an audience who will appreciate my hard work. But even if I break the deadline (maybe it has to be delayed another year) or end up having no support/audience, I am not worried. I just think “Well, it’ll happen regardless.” or “Yay, it’s already real. I am glad I did it.”
It’s got no fireworks. No algorithmic hurrah. No romance. I don’t go Natalie Portman Black Swan over the calling. Is that unimpressive? I don’t know. I only know it’s purposeful. And that it feels right. Maybe the word is not passion. Maybe the word is trust.
Maybe passion and trust are two sides of the same coin.
That’s all part of the “compelling” I feel for some books. They are the ones I don’t worry about because they are the ones I know will happen. So I pick them and give them the love and attention they ask for. It’s not a one-way relationship either. When you give in to the garden, it gives back to you.
So really, the answer to both questions is “I don’t know.” Because like, if you boil down my answers down to their most blase they are basically “Enjoy your life” and “Do what you like” – which are good answers in general, but don’t say anything about marketability or success or finding validation in an external party like a publisher or art director. They are useless answers.
Then again,
Maybe they are not.
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wackygoofball · 6 years ago
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Gwenspiration: The Wacky Version Vol. 3 - The Moodboards
So, here I go again parading myself and tooting like there is no tomorrow.
As people still brave enough to follow me on Tumblr will know, I do a lot of moodboards, or at least I call them such. Others call them collages or storyboards or pictures with random text. Either way, for me, moodboards became a neat tool to somehow capture story ideas not yet anywhere near a level that I could write fic about them - or serve as inspirations for fics I am actually writing.
And it gives me opportunity to hoard unhealthy amounts of Gwen and Nik pics, in the name of moodboards. And science. And stuff. Whoozah!
So yeah, in this post, I want to share some of my personal favorites. A lot of them actually, because I can’t decide, really.
I will start off with a group of moodboards which took inspiration from the Marvel universe, since the Marvel universe was my gateway into the more active parts of fandom.
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An all-time fave is the Iron Man AU... I mean, what not to love about a JB AU with Jaime as sassy Tony Stark and Brienne as the not-taking any shit from you army doctor, am I right? But yeah, seriously, Jaime *is* the Tony Stark of the GOT universe, and I can’t be convinced otherwise. And neither should be you.
Also, the Iron Man suits just totally fit the color scheme for both, which made creating the moodboards all the better for me. Jaime and Brienne were made for armor, now in medieval or modern times, let’s not kid ourselves.
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Another Marvel fave has got to be Captain Westeros. Because if there is a female GOT Version of Steve Rogers, it’s gotta be Brienne of fuckin’ Tarth. This one is really close to my heart because it gave me a lot of feels coming up with plot bunnies for it, and the tragedy of those two people missing each other in time over and over again, always trying to protect one another, only to end up on opposite sides because of the machinations of others... *sigh*
And I mean, one guy loses an arm. The other is blond and strong... I don’t make the rules but this delivers me enough material to re-imagine this as a JB AU... so yeah, I do kinda make the rules after all. Anyway.
Since I realized that this post’s gonna get even looooonger, I decided to make a cut here and put the rest below, so not to have you scrolling for five hours.
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Although it’s not the most popular moodboard amongst my followers (you brave people, I can’t parade you enough for staying through the madness lol), I really, really love that Fantastic Four moodboard and the concept behind it. And I just know a lot of effort went into making Valyrian Steel Brienne, which took all of my three computer editing skillz brain cells. But yeah, here again, I liked to play with the idea of them not admitting to their love until shit hits the fan and then they hide behind that because... drama, angst, feels, pining, yadda.
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And we go from Marvel to DC little quick. Because Brienne is, most certainly, a Wonder Woman. Nuf said.
Now, let’s move on to other big movie franchises that give me all the JB feels:
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Jurassic Park (aka Valyrian Park) evidently holds a special place in my heart because JB fighting dinosaur-dragon hybrids and kicking ass while being disbelieving about what was bred out in Valyria thanks to some certain someones to rescue Brienne’s adoptive daughter Arya is just... a thing? For me anyway.
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More down memory lane, I don’t know how often I watched the LOTR movies, suffice to say it was a lot a lot. We had the extended versions DVDs of the first two and basically it was the one thing to watch when nothing was on (which was the case a lot). Either way. JB in MIddle Earth long after the days of Frodo et al. - why? Because I just loved the idea (and aesthetic) of Jaime as a ranger and Brienne as a knight of Gondor working in disguise. And Hobbipod. I mean, Pod as a Hobbit. Come the fuck on. And Tyrion as an asshole wizard. What could possibly go wrong? This moodboard was very time-consuming as I had to do a lot of edits (pointy ears, tiny up people, smudge Brienne’s face on a lot of Boromir and Faramir images, smudge Jaime’s face on a lot of Aragorn images, you name it). So yeah. No matter its popularity... I dig it. Despite not having read the books yet (I know, shocking), I continue to ogle at the idea and go like: Must. Write. But. Must. Resist. Either way. Mood.
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So yeah, I grew up watching these movies a lot, too (I grew up watching a lot of TV, period). And when Gwen was cast as Captain Phasma, I got a lot of JB juices flowing as a result. Mehe. I found it was a fun idea to play with, to basically *kill* Phasma so *Brienne* can come into play and assume her identity. And a rundown Jedi!Jaime who’s lost faith in himself and everything else safe for his partner in crime/resistance is just... I needz. So you gotta cope with it. I still adore this concept a lot even if others may not. :)
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This one’s just... gah. Feels. And I really liked the color scheme lol. And I watched Horse Whisperer A LOT. Because of feels. And horses. And Honor is a horse and he deserved better than be barbecued at Highgarden, dammit.
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The No Reservations AU definitely has to be in this post because I live for this dynamic. Brienne taking care of the girls, not knowing how, though, constantly doubting herself while always trying to be perfect and composed, not just in life but on the job as well. And Jaime being the laid-back guy who’s just a darn good chef but may carry his own baggage of problems that keep him from his happy ending story is just... mah jam.
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This one was a lot of fun to do because you don’t really think about Erin Brockovich when you say Brienne of Tarth in terms of character. But when you scratch away the boob jokes and the differences in where they come from, what you find are two hard-working women who fight for justice, so I found that close enough. And it was excuse enough for me to go down the lane of biker!Jaime because... dayum.
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Music and Lyrics is an all-time guilty pleasure romcom of mine. It’s so light and easy and I kind of love how everyone is basically a bunch of awkward losers. All the more perfect for Jaime as a singer (we need that in our lives after the infamous video Nik was in to sing to us about global warming...) and Brienne as the unexpectedly gifted songwriter. What I like about the moodboard per se is how the color scheme turned out because it’s all warm and bright and... makes me happy.
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Very much in contrast to the former stands this one. I still love the overall mood of it and I dig the story idea because I dug both The Prestige and The Illustionist because they presented something dark yet very different, which made it all the more appealing to put into a moodboard for me. While not the most well-known moodboard of mine, I keep going back to it time and time again to basically lust at all the illusions and magic and drama. And blue butterflies.
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What is there not to love about a Pacific Rim AU for JB, am I right? Right?! JB ain’t just compatible when it comes to the Drift, yo, that’s all I’m gonna say. Reasons why I like the moodboard a lot is that it’s very different, flashy colors, gigantic robots, and I was mostly alright with how the edits turned out. It is tough to get images that fit the angles, yo.
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Jumping back in time once more, I really adore this one even though it’s not one of my popular moodboards. I dug the fusion of elements from Cinderella Man while granting Brienne as the female lead more space to develop as a character and make her a badass sniper nurse who is about to get her doctor’s degree. And Jaime doing anything to make it work because he owes her a debt (and his love) by boxing his way to their shared life is just... nice.
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Another supposedly lesser known moodboard is this one, though I really adore it for its premise and the amount of work I put into it (all the giffing and moodboarding). I also found use for that image of Gwen with what looks like the veil of a nun, which was probably what had me inspired in the first place lol. The plot bunnies revolve less around Se7en and more the novel El ùltimo Catón (2001) because it has a nun solving a mystery revolving around Dante’s works. But Se7en gives us the Seven, which is a delicious parallel too hard to ignore. For me at least. If only I knew how to write crime, dammit.
Now, to  move more into the serial (smooth transition from serial killer to serial TV shows, I know, I know) way of life, here is some moodboards inspired by TV shows (although some have since gotten movies which I also took inspiration from... yadda):
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Childhood memory galore. I spent many weekends watching The A-Team with the whole family. When the movie came out, I was happy about the feels it gave me (and the “you spin my head right round” scene still cracks me up more often than it should). Either way. I found it absolutely necessary for Jaime to be Face, for Tyrion to be Hannibal, for Bronn to be B.A. and cuss at everyone and everything and Brienne giving us the strangest genderbend of a Howling Mad Murdock. It added some angst, which I always need because I am a thirsty hoe for it. In case no one noticed yet. Ha.
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This one is very remotely inspired by The Bletchley Circle and the Imitation Game (because both feature encryption and one features Charles Dance already, yo.) I just really dug the idea of Brienne being so good at this because she is such a straight thinker but being underestimated because “she a woman.” And of course her not being done just encoding messages but getting into action, very much to the dismay of the stupid soldier wanting to defend the bae from harm. What could possibly go wrong? Right. A lot.
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Then. Elementary. Let me count the ways in which I love that show... ALL THE WAYS. And I really dig it as a JB AU. I have so many thoughts and feelings, I can’t even begin to tell you. I especially had my fun basically making Jaime Sherlock without making him really Sherlock because that guy was the one who taught him how to be an investigator before disappearing and fucking up his life for bad. And Brienne as the army doctor turned sober companion turned private investigator turned love interest is just too delicious to ignore.
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Pants down I mean hands down, this may be the actual favorite (currently) amongst them all for the plain reason that I also grew up watching that series and still watch it and keep obsessing about it. Ever since Discovery launched and has since given me both joy and grief, I found myself intrigued by the premise of a JB Star Trek AU where Brienne would be standing *with* the Klingons during the war around the time Discovery takes place, and Captain Jaime Lannister having lost far too much to this war already to truly trust anyone, even less so a woman who ran to the Klingons, for what it seems.
You would not believe how many ideas I have for a fic based on it. You wouldn’t believe that I basically have a sequel to that fic already in mind. And you would definitely believe, knowing me, that I am nowhere near writing that fic. But a fangirl can dream and moodboard, right? The moodboard was such a fun way of going about it, not only for the edits but because I could sneak some secret Klingon messages in there. :)
Now, on to the last part, which are the moodboards not inspired by movies or TV shows primarily but really just spewed out of my wacky, wacky brain:
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This has a special place in my heart because it combines military and the traumas it comes with for JB and.... the aesthetic of farming. And both finding a kind of peace they didn’t know they were looking for as they struggle to adjust and find their way back “to normal” after the horrors they have both seen in war. And did I mention the aesthetic? And Jaime in plaid? All dirty and sweaty? Do I have to say more?
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Why this one? Because it combines angst and romance and falling in love twice because DESTINY. And paintings. I love me my artist AUs. So that was my go at it, combining it with the “mystery” to be uncovered about what history Jaime and Brienne actually share as he tries to put his memories back together.  Also. This moodboard gave me opportunity to try out new filters and create JB paintings. :)
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This one’s gotta be on the list since I also added the Horse Whisperer. Now it’s Dog Whisperer Jaime and Brienne who won’t give up on her dog who’s seen some shit in the warzone (as did she, but Brienne will put it all aside for her doggish best buddy, of course). While it’s not a very popular moodboard of mine, I really enjoy the premise of it and how the dynamics can so easily change between the two of them if you see it in comparison to the Horse Whisperer AU. Also. I just really think Jaime is a total pet person.
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Another lesser known moodboard, I’d assume, but I really dug the premise of it (still do), and it was intriguing to do some edits to make Jaime’s hand *truly* golden lol. With people having developed strange mutations which aren’t nearly as much fun as they are in Fantastic Four AUs. What I liked about it was the idea that Brienne would have a kind of mutation/ability that links to the mind, since she is such a physically strong fighter that she may rather rely on that than on her own mind, fearing that she cannot control that with discipline the same way she can train her body with it. What unites the two is their strong wish to protect the people in their care, in a world on the verge of collapse forcing two unexpected allies together (okay, I totally expected it, but they didn’t). Either way. Much love for this one. :)
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Aaaand the last one (not of all the ones I made but the ones I picked for Gwenspiration). I really, really, really adore this one because I was so happy with how the aesthetic turned out and how the colors all match. And I dig the premise. Like holy moly do I dig it deep. Jaime and Brienne both serving in military, but on different fronts, and almost accidentally ending up writing each other letters? I mean... the PINING. And Brienne having to decipher Jaime’s chickenscratch. Yeah no, but for real. I just love the idea so much. That they are both committed to the cause while also yearning for a home, for peaceful times, for sweet, sweet love. And them meeting up and acting like stupid teenagers, only for drama to keep hitting because. It’s eh me angsty Wacky.
Either way. I dig the premises of a lot of my moodboards (in fact... basically all of them or else I wouldn’t be making them, I guess). I spared you listing all of them, though I listed a whole damn lot already. Moodboards are an awesome means for me personally to visualize and (re-)imagine. And since quite a few people seem to continue to be onboard with them, I am all the happier to keep making them.
That’s all for today.
Much love! ♥♥♥
*flies away*
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bnhaoptr · 5 years ago
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Undisclosed Desires - Killer X Reader
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Fanfiction: Killer, Reader
Word Count: 2.915
Original Version PT / BR: https://www.spiritfanfiction.com/historia/undisclosed-desires-18335196
Killer, the masked supernova. His long, wild blond hair, his muscular and briefly tanned body, his arm with war marks, his hoarse voice and his face never revealed. It all prompted him.
[You] remembered him and his hot friend Eustass Kid very well. Both were from the same city as you, sharing in addition to their hometown in south blue some memories of their childhoods.
A brief smile blossomed on his painted lips [the color of his choice], just by looking at that sheet of paper attached to the newspaper. The wanted poster of him and his companions, a brief increase making him even more famous; not everyone would be proud of it besides the pirates, but you were proud of it and hoped it would continue to have your reward increased.
Walking through the streets while watching that leaf, he stopped at a small cafeteria on the main avenue of his island and ordered a [drink of his preference]. His eyes [their colors] watched the street and the sun slowly set while hiding behind the low-rise buildings.
Then, a memory came to mind. A memory of more than ten years, a hard and bitter memory.
[...] You were in your ten years, Eustass was eight and Killer was twelve, the oldest on that block. Unlike Killer and Kid, you had been born into the family [your surname or whatever you want], a family known for the legal profession; it was clear that the poor boys were often hungry and that problems were around them. Both his relatives and the parents of his friends did not approve of their children's friendship with him, probably because they were always in fights or confusion. However, something prompted him. Kid always had that authoritarian, arrogant, explosive air among other rude adjectives. Killer was like that when needed, perhaps because he was older and took care of his friend, he was patient and almost never raised his voice; somewhat aggressive when needed. It was more than common to see them training with metal parts, improvised swords and other weapons that they assembled with their contraptions. You always watched them through the living room window during your [your favorite instrument] classes, always imagining a date with them and what games they could play together, devising a way to get closer without them being surprised and their parents not finding out. In reality, you wanted to get close to the blond boy, maybe it was the beginning of your hormones surfacing and wanting to feel his touch. Their mentally prepared meetings never happened. The first meeting between you was by a monkey that passed in the street, while you walked and watched them from the other side of the street, you managed to hit a pole and fall on your butt. Everyone laughed at you, including him. He curled up on the floor, with red cheeks, tears in his eyes and bruises on his knees. Children could be mean, and they didn't hide it, especially when it came to pointing a finger and laughing. Then the sounds of laughter stopped and when you looked up, you could see those two boys fighting with each other, because of you, at the end of that day you rewarded them with ice cream and created a friendship. When they were hungry, you didn't bother to bring your food to them. If they were injured, it was not uncommon to help them make dressings. They talked, joked and approached. More and more, you wanted to get closer to Killer. Maybe because of the positive energy he was going through, the shy and welcoming way, or just the pure, innocent feeling that was blooming in his chest. You liked him the way he was: shaggy blond hair, an exotic laugh, a passion for pasta with lots of sauce and peppers, the way he talked about his dreams of being a warrior and going to the sea. He was fascinating and charming. Until that day. After your eleventh birthday, the following week you had taken courage from the depths of your chest, at a time when you considered yourself alone with him, you quickly sealed your lips against his. In a timid whisper that sounded between your lips [the way they are] slightly red from the pressure: "I like you", you ran off to your residence while the boy was stunned by that display of affection. Not knowing how to react, Killer, at his height of joy, started to laugh. Loud and without shame. Unfortunately, one of the boys he and his friend had taken away when you fell, was around and heard his laugh. Without thinking too much, he told all his friends that, out of vengeance for various confusions, they went to make fun of the boy who still looked like a fool. Between a chorus of "Killer likes [his name] -chan" and "Killer weird laugh" among other mean nicknames, without help from Eustass Kid, the blond-haired boy beat them all until they were unconscious. Some people even say that the children were on the verge of death with such violence from the orphan boy. Ashamed of his laughter, his face hurt by a few blows he had taken and because he no longer wanted to show his face to [his name], he hid behind his mask. [...] You barely felt the tears streaming down your slightly flushed cheeks, until the waitress who brought your drink and [appetizer you like best] asked if it was "okay" with you. Robotically, his lips released: "Yes, everything is fine", even though he is not.
Deep in your heart, guilt was slowly consuming you. Maybe if he hadn't been in such a hurry to want to give his first kiss, there wouldn't have been such sadness and disgrace with Killer. You really liked him, to the point that years later you could still shake all your feelings with just a photo and little news, and you didn't want anything bad to happen to him.  What saddened him most was seeing him hide the face you admired so much behind that iron mask, which Kid helped choose. You wanted to appreciate the sight of his face more, see the lips you had touched, see through his expressive eyes what was going on in your mind. And not a piece of iron. Between a sip [of your favorite drink] and bites of [your aperitif], those memories seemed even stronger and more real. The memory of styling that distressing mask was still fresh in his mind, since no one, in any way, was able to convince him to take it off. As if it were a refuge. With two cans of paint, blue and white respectively, brushes and some stencils; both you and Kid convinced him to decorate it. The indigo tone that so pleased the boy took over the mask and small details that followed the blank stencil. I didn't know how, but he didn't choke on the smell of paint that was around him.  You just wanted to cheer him up and get him back to how he was before, and not a shy bush animal as he looked. When Killer took the mirror and started to visualize how his mask was, even without seeing his reactions, you felt that he was grateful and a little more cheerful. And when his voice, slightly muffled by the mask, sounded thankful, his heart turned to melted butter. It cut into his heart, all he wanted to do was see that feature again.
As soon as you paid the bill for the cafeteria and followed the path to your residence, your fingers groped your own face, wiping away some tears that were streaming down. All those memories moved you. Step by step, you tried to think of anything else that was possible to forget, not even shopping for your dinner and your [favorite pet]. But, the image of the poster was present. And when he looked at his final purchases, there were the ingredients for making hot peppers accompanied by pasta, just the way he liked it. - Ai, Ai, [Your name]. Only you yourself, never change - He spoke to himself. Smiling, you followed the path to your residence, cutting the path through a square. The flowers were in full bloom and with their perfumes roaming the air, it was a pleasant and welcoming climate. The darkness of the night was already spreading across the slightly bluish-purple sky with pink tones, the streetlights started to be lit, little by little bringing beams of light to their path. Deep down, you wanted him to see how the city was evolving. I wanted the scent of flowers to invade his nostrils and to be able to talk about what happened during the years they were apart. It was then that his gaze, wandering among extremely flashy and colorful flowers, stopped on a small, shy white flower. Snowdrop. In an impulse caused by nostalgia, you bent down, approaching the little flower and taking a seedling from it. You brought the plant close to your nose and breathed in the pleasant aroma that resembled honey.
It was normal and even his habit to make comparisons with people and plants. In your mind, you were a [flower of your color and preference], Eustass was a red tulip that was born in the mildest climates, while Killer was that little flower.  Your mother used to tell some bedtime stories when you were a child, one of the stories you liked most was exactly the meaning of the flowers.  This simple flower had a certain ambiguity in its meaning. It had an extremely suggestive name, snowdrop appeared after the winter thaw and the beginning of spring. It could mean hope and comfort for showing that winter was over and the plantations would be prosperous, in addition to being considered the flower of doom for the same reason, snow.  However, this was not his vision. It meant transition, from a state of pain to a state of well-being. In the case of Killer, it would be vice versa. 
Even the smell of Killer reminded you of the plant, you knew that very well. You remembered that odor that, before leaving for the sea, was cozy in you. At the age of sixteen, a very pretty teenager with one of the best educations on the island, she was far from them. Occasionally, they met occasionally on the street and few words were exchanged. And his feeling never changed, even though his kisses were stolen by another boy. Rumors were rife in the city that the group of hooligans that Killer was involved with Kid would leave the sea in a few days. You could feel your heart breaking in several tiny fragments, for the first time you had slept after a lot of crying, the pain in your head irritated you and your eyes burned accompanied by a throat irritated from crying. I just didn't expect to see him in his room at night, a few nights later. Sitting on your white dressing table, watching your face covered with that iron mask, until you enter the room after dinner. His body was paralyzed by that presence and how he had entered there, on the second floor. "Some pirates are sneaky," he commented, his voice muffled by the mask. - I see - your answer came out automatically. As soon as he rose from the dressing table stool, his feet guided her to him. Killer was much taller, his hair was longer and more wild, he smelled of soap mixed with rum, his body had more defined muscles, his skin looked more tanned. You wanted to touch it, but your shyness inhibited your desire. He approached you, his clothes brushed, you wanted to know what he was doing behind that wall that separated them. His hands lightly touched her body and she began to trace him gently, as if drawing a map of every inch of him. Killer always loved the way you moved, your hair [color and cut], your eyes that seemed to reflect your soul, your body [his type]. Everything made him feel comfortable, welcomed. - Oh Killer, forgive me - you finally got to say what you wanted after so many years. The eighteen-year-old blond wrapped his arms around his body in a tender embrace, you could feel the warmth that his skin emanated and the gentle breathing. Anyway, you leaned your head against his chest, enjoying that moment and his heartbeat. - I missed you - his outburst came with a brief tear. He whispered "Me too". Then he broke away from the embrace and made her sit on her comfortable bed with those thick, fluffy covers that her parents loved so much. "I will be leaving in a few days, I needed to come and see you," he confessed.  That speech only confirmed the rumors and he felt his chest tighten with that confirmation from him. It was as if they both knew what was coming, without needing to ask or suggest something on either side, Killer removed his mask and left it on the dressing table. You loved his face, it was unique. Thin nose, large amber eyes accompanied by long and thick lashes - which you have always envied - the lips a darker tone and your face with a well defined jaw under the epidermis layer. His hands [as they are] lifted and touched the boy's cheeks, falling slightly to the base of his neck, causing little chills. How many years passed before you could have that vision again? And how many years would it be before I could review it? This time the initiative was not on his part, but his. Killer approached slowly with closed lids, as if he could smell the damp hair [their length], his large, callused hands were holding his waist. Without your noticing, your eyes were closed while your lips received a serene kiss that deepened as they were both looser. It wasn't long before the kisses were moving to a more heated phase. Killer removed his own black blouse with white polka dots and threw it on the floor next to the bed, you who were lying down found yourself undressing for the first time in front of a man, without an ounce of modesty. Being naked, both physically and emotionally, they exposed themselves without any fear. Killer's warm hands explored his body, he loved every detail of his skin and the features of every reaction he caused in you. Everything was new to both, like a treasure hunt that would end in pleasure. The feeling of having his skin sliding against yours, caresses scattered, the light burning of his purity being taken away by him, the pleasures of the flesh, the fear of being caught by his parents. They were indescribable. It seemed that their universes had collided and become one, a union of galaxies and thoughts. A sparkle appeared in both her eyes and his, the pleasure she never thought existed was being tested night come in with pauses and small conversations.  You were never able to erase the memory of that night, even the fear that passed over the next few days before his departure. The fear of having generated a life in its moment of greatest pleasure, without having used any adequate protection. Whenever they exchanged a look, no matter where they were, it was like a spark that it was impossible not to pass unnoticed by those who accompanied them. 
When friends leave for your life of piracy, you don't feel complete for long. Even her parents adopted her dejected or more unsympathetic and the days went on until she was able to overcome her lack. The only ray of hope that keeps her heart warm and a sparkle in her eyes every time she had a brief news about Kid Pirates, was a promise that he was done with her the first night while saying goodbye. Already with the helmet in his hands and properly dressed after helping with a small spot of blood between his legs and sheets, he places a last kiss on his lips and forehead. Before he showed the window and each one to his reality, Killer stopped for a few moments, hesitating about something. Then he turned and took her hand. - [Your name], I'll go back to the search. As soon as Kid conquers One Piece, knows the world and becomes world famous with fortunes in our rewards, I will come back to you - He holds your hand tightly, with a serious look. You knew when someone was lying or trying to trick someone. And at that moment, I was being as sincere as possible. - I waited, please don't delay - this time you place a kiss on his hand. One last look and so he jumped out the window, going back to his makeshift shelter with Kid. Since then you come or wait, follow your news and follow Eustass "Captain" Kid to get One Piece before anyone else. And, like rare letters that Killer, sent from time to time, was kept under seven keys in his yard. When you are late, you walk to a point that is close to your home, it is in the middle of half an hour after the sea or with the hope of returning before, and while this is not happening yet, you enjoy terrestrial life.
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3wisellamas · 6 years ago
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Hey, remember my pet cracktheory that Darrell is a clone of Laserblast, or is somehow connected to him in some way?  I finally cleaned up and sorted out my full list of weird things I’ve noticed that they both have in common, or that otherwise support that, or are just weird about this stupid robot in general.  Because I wasn’t fucking joking about there being a lot of it.  Probably not gonna actually amount to anything, especially with not much series left, but meh.  It’s fun.  Enjoy.
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Appearance/Body:
(Okay, I admit most of this section was pretty much killed by Darrell's canon human form in OK AU, which looked NOTHING like Laser at all.  But just in case...)
-Identical body shape/proportions to LB/SF, with wider torso/hips and very thin waist -- maybe a little smaller because he's a teen (and a robot)
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-Very close head shape to LB/SF/PV:  square jaw (when it’s not exaggerated to make him cuter), similar rectangular shape and proportions if you include the braincase (since it would normally be inside his skull)
-LB's mask looks a LOT like Darrell's head, with the entire top half and most of the sides of his head covered and with circular ear...things
-That mask also tends to be quite expressive, almost functioning as a single eye sometimes
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-Their big heavy boots are also kinda similar (Though honestly Darrell's boots look slightly more like Chip Damage's...)
-LB is based off of the superhero Cyclops, and Darrell is literally a cyclops
-Only robot that really seems to have an organic, human brain, and has human feet too along with Shannon -- even for just the feet, someone's DNA has to be cloned to make him, and not necessarily Boxman's.
-Darrell can grow stubble, according to that one tiny joke shot in Let's Watch the Boxmore Show; his face may be organic just like his brain and feet.  Also worth noting, the specific spots on the side of the jaw where LB's/SF's stubble shows are covered by metal for Darrell -- when comparing Darrell and LB, each character's most distinctive visible features (one eye and brain, cheek stubble) are covered up on the other!
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Costumes:
-Darrell seems to enjoy dressing up as a HERO -- when he's in cowboy mode he plays a sheriff, and when the bots play Golden Statues he always plays the museum guard, both specifically hero roles!
-In fact, the costumes in general -- he definitely likes pretending he's someone else, rather than just being fashionable like his siblings.
-LB and SF both hide their eyes, and may have something unusual/distinctive about them, especially with Laser because of his eye-based powers.  LB!SF in particular would hide his if there was something that might immediately get him recognized as his former identity.  Perhaps only having one eye (hence the visor acting as one on occasion like I pointed out)?  (We got to see behind LB's mask once in Gar's fear sequence in Face Your Fears, with one red eye showing where the mask was broken, but there it did look like he had two.  However, Gar would never have seen what was ACTUALLY under there...)
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Habits/Personality:
-LB was an anti-hero, willing to do some fucked-up things in the name of good, while Darrell is an anti-villain, who focuses more on just doing his job, having fun, and trying to make his father happy than crushing the heroes out of malice
-Darrell's also just a terrible villain in general.  Of course, he's directly killed another villain (or tried to anyway), and his idea of doing the most evilest thing was reporting Boxman's lies to the board and stopping him, AKA doing the RIGHT thing -- even with the betrayal, not very villainous of him, huh?
-Weird shared oral fixation?  There's a very unusual emphasis on food/mouth things with Darrell (his lowkey obsession with eating, spitting Boxman into the spitoon in his office, brushing his teeth), and LB's trademark was always having that lollipop in his mouth.
-Hugging soft cute animals, like Rippy and Fink
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-Darrell writes in concrete in You're Level 100, and LB does the same using his eye laser in Glory Days (in the POINT theme song)
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-Neither one is a big fan of new members of their respective teams right away.  LB refused to take junior members with him in both Glory Days and Let's Take a Moment, and doesn't seem to think much of them in either episode at all, aside from Silver Spark (and then, he still left her behind as one of his lookouts).  Darrell...just freaking HATES new siblings at first, having a problem with every single one he gets, at least the ones we've seen (we didn't get to see his and Mikayla's introduction).  He's also like this to siblings he considers inferior to him, to a point -- he and Shannon both got pretty jealous when Boxman started praising Jethro's "new moves."
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Boxman stuff:
-Timing is correct, Darrell and the others were created right after LB disappeared according to Lad and Logic, since Boxman only drew the first three members in his original plans to attack POINT, and Gar was already building the plaza by the time Boxmore was opened.  This means the Boxbot quadruplets and KO were actually born around the same time, making them all 6-11 years old, roughly the same amount of time that's passed since the Sandwich Incident.
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-Boxy was obsessed with POINT at that time (and still is, since he's kept the coordinates for POINT HQ memorized), and possibly LB himself (given his later attraction to PV)
-Boxman may also have some POINT tech and connections of his own?  First off, access to a huge supply of glorbs, the easiest and closest source of which Foxtail and Carol have been protecting and heavily monitoring, and are normally very hard for non-heroes to get their hands on.  Second, those boxes he sends the robots to attack in might use the same wormhole tech as POINT Prep's bus, since it looks a little similar both in transit and emerging at its destination, plus its driver sounds exactly like Ernesto.  And speaking of Ernesto, that one time he straight-up drew a POINT drone as part of a family portrait…
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POINT stuff:
-There were six members of POINT before the Sandwich Incident, and LB was one of the original three, and seemed to function as co-leader alongside Foxtail.  There are six Boxbots, and Darrell was one of the original four, and kinda leads them in battle alongside Shannon, especially once he becomes CEO.
-And coincidentally, the original six members of POINT also share colors and in some cases roles with the Boxbots -- Shannon and Foxtail are orange, Greyman and Ernesto are purple, El-Bow and Jethro are blue, Rippy and Raymond are green, Silver Spark is...difficult but her hair is pretty distinctive and works with Mikayla for yellow, and of course, Darrell and Laser are red.  The robots' colors and relative ages even match POINT'S senior/junior members, with Greyman, Laser, and Foxtail representing three of the older Boxbots, and then Rippy, Silver Spark, and El-Bow representing the two newer ones and Jethro, who only recently was able to show his true personality/potential.
-"Junior Members" = "Junior Deputies"
-"Code Vermillion."  I made an entire post on this a while back, but to summarize, Vermillion is a bright, slightly orange-y red, and in most episodes is Darrell's exact color.  And Vermillion, as a red pigment, tends to darken over time into purple and black -- and SF and PV have connections to both glorbs (which Code Vermillion refers to), and to LB as well.
-Darrell has a bunch of weird similarities to Chip Damage as well, who is basically Laser's replacement at POINT, minus being the Charisma discipline rep:  Robots made right after LB got iced, green powers, special limited-edition costumes/POW cards, similar dark gray boots, the remote controls (Wisdom class blackboard for Darrell, Final Exams for Chip), possibly both made with actual brain tissue (The flashback to Chip's creation had a brain on one of Greyman's screens), etc.  Also, a dumb one, but...remember those Double-Dipped (KO and TKO?) Laser Chips (self-explanatory), that are "probably just a limited-edition" (Darrell).
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Other assorted weird things:
-Darrell’s laser eye attachment shown in Stop Attacking the Plaza -- still being worked on in the episode (and it looks like it has been for a while, since it had been some time since Boxman was in that specific lab...), but used by a Big Darrell in the opening, where it produces a very similar (green) copy of LB's beam.
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-Darrell is right-handed, in a left-handed family -- he's shown eating with his right hand in Stop Attacking the Plaza while everyone else is using their left, looks like he’s wielding a lightsaber right-handed in Plaza Film Festival, and draws with his right hand in Villains Night In.  Left-handedness is often associated with villains in fiction, so he may not be a full one?  (Definitely not as sinister as the rest of them, hehe.)  Though, some instances of Darrell using his left hand too, and other bots using their right, so I dunno how strong this particular point is.
-Line to keep an eye on:  "Just reboot yourself into a new body!  I do it all the time for funsies!" from Rad Likes Robots.  Related, Darrell reboots by exploding himself, which is how LB may have "died" and took on a new identity (if he's SF)
-Weird shit from Let's Not Be Skeletons:  Potato demonstrates a skeleton remote wearing a cowboy hat, and in addition to turning people into skeletons they remove powers, just like that red orb, and they also left Rad's and Enid's boots intact for some reason.  Darrell's also one of the biggest customers of the remotes, using his foes' weapons against them ("What do you say we snag more of them before they fall into the wrong hands?  We could even use them against our foes!")
-When we first saw TKO's power manifest in You're Level 100, it was while KO was trying to defeat a giant superpowered Darrell.  When we first saw TKO in physical form in Face Your Fears (as KO's "evil burp"), he was sent out to defeat a giant superpowered Laserblast head.  When we next saw TKO in, well, TKO (as his true self for the first time), he defeated another giant superpowered Darrell!
-Really dumb one, the letter right before C and D is B, so the acronyms LB and LCD may be a thing?
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Turbo/SF/TKO connections, just in case those turn out to be related to Laser as well:
(Under the cut, since this is long enough already!)
-SF hints that negative emotions, particularly anger, fuel Turbo powers.  Darrell has quite a few jealousy and anger issues in general -- "Gets flustered by petty insults," HATES new younger siblings (or existing siblings showing him up and getting more of dad’s attention), etc -- and seems to be way more capable of mayhem than usual when running on these emotions.  They even gave him the power to defy his programming and (attempt to) kill Boxman!
-He can also have his power boosted by a ton in a very short amount of time, from level -4 up (down?) to level -100 and able to destroy the plaza in one shot, and for as brief as that level -100 thing was he STILL has yet to be topped as the most powerful villain in the entire series!  But, Boxman doesn't do it often -- even regular Big Darrells are implied to NOT be that powerful normally.  Perhaps he's holding Darrell back for a reason?
-A lot of emphasis on his brain, similar to TKO: the visible brain is obvious, he has the most noticeable hivemind, and he pilots Big Darrells from inside their braincases similar to how KO and TKO controlled Big KO (even the name's similar!) in TKO's House
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-Also, he doesn't have to glitch or change colors with his mood like Shannon does, he can make decisions and go against his programming all on his own -- perhaps he runs mostly on that meat brain?  Or maybe his brain is actually a mass of pink glorbs like Jethro got in I Am Jethro that unlocked his intelligence and potential?  
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-SF's speech to KO in TKO: "Everyone holds you back because they're afraid of your raw, natural ability.  They want you small and nice, blissfully unaware of your true potential."  Darrell in Lord Cowboy Darrell:  "Nobody's gonna hold me back."  Shannon to Darrell in Plaza Film Festival:  "Where do you think you got all that natural talent?"
-TKO ultimately came out of wanting recognition from his boss.  LCD ultimately came out of wanting recognition from his boss.
-That VERY noticeable purple glow in the "I'm the Daddy now!" scene in Lord Cowboy Darrell.  Like, to the point it seemed specially painted for emphasis, rather than the normal animation.  
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-Also, Junior is pretty heavy evidence that Turbo powers do not necessarily = purple, as Junior's powers were all green (and so were Chip's Turbo-ish powerups!)  Darrell also has green powers (that even carried over to his human alternate in OK AU, despite Shannon and Raymond getting Enid’s and Rad’s exact same powers and colors), and is sometimes surrounded by Turbo-esque greenish lightning when he's angry, the best example being at the beginning of Legends of Mr Gar after being trash talked (remember that he can't take petty insults; he was PISSED there!)
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-(If it looks like I’m insinuating Darrell’s secretly got more power under the hood than even he realizes, I absolutely am.)
-Darrell still has his dark hooded cloak from the pilot, which looks a little like SF's.
-Darrell's the only one who wasn't invited to Junior's funeral, and doesn't give half a shit, instead using it as an opportunity to betray people and take on a new identity.  Possibly like LB faking his own death, therefore not attending his own funeral, and taking on a new identity as SF?
-Sneaking through the vents = sneaking through the pipes (SF, maybe how LB survived given that pipe in Let's Take a Moment)?
-Weird broken halo imagery shared between both Darrell and SF in TKO.  (Not my observation actually, pointed out by @david-yells-about-cartoons )  Darrell's cloud halo thing in that episode also looks almost exactly like the clouds swirling above KO as he shoots a power fist for the first time at the end of Let's Be Friends…
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slouchyslouch · 5 years ago
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Tame Impala’s The Slow Rush and the passing of time
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It’s been a long five years since Tame Impala released Currents, the record that pushed the band to mainstream stardom. It’s amazing to see Kevin Parker’s evolution from 60’s guitar psychedelia prodigy to pop-song writing wonder with a reputation to his name. On The Slow Rush, everything circles around the concept of time. Now into his 30’s, Parker attempts to embrace his own ego as a Coachella-headlining act. Taken as a whole, the album sounds like playing Mario Kart on the Rainbow Road map. There is still the Tame Impala sound that is psychedelic and effects-heavy in nature, but this particular record has the feeling of driving through an intergalactic world with a deliberate caution of not leaping into the void. It’s as if Parker is on cruise-control, only wanting to take risks once he’s sure of a straight path ahead. That’s not to say that this record isn’t good. It’s still going to be one of the most polished records this year — enough for anyone to watch their reflection on it with its tighter-than-ever instrumentals and flawless production.
Although his past three albums were much more interesting sonically, his aptitude for perfection at album number four might just be why it doesn’t stand out as much as any of the past records. Mastering all the techniques of recording and production must have put a damper on a lot of the interesting sounds that Parker pursued in the past. It could be that this album might just be too perfect-sounding. Parker’s songs previous to this record would go one direction and then take you by surprise from one moment to the next — moments that would grab you by the shoulder and divert your attention to his genius. Nevertheless, Tame Impala’s evolution into this new decade has produced a record still worthy of a spin.
With each sound level and each parameter calibrated to perfection, opener “One More Year” contains a sound in what he refers to as his Gregorian Robot Choir — a manipulated to precision sample providing the backbone to a mellowed-out track to ease you in to The Slow Rush sound. From the get go, the Tame Impala vibe already feels different from previous iterations of the band. It’s a little laid-back without the grandeur usually offered on a Tame Impala intro. He sings: “Do you remember we were standing here a year ago? / Our minds were racing and time went slow.” It sets the tone of looking into time as an inescapable concept, yet the weak opener might fail to catch anyone’s attention.
Despite leaving the realm of psychedelic rock, at least there are still the relentless grooves of The Slow Rush. “Is It True” gets into funk territory with some bongos (an instrument more prominently used in a lot of the record), and a thumping bassline reminiscent of “The Less I Know The Better.” Halfway through the track, the song transitions into a spellbinding disco groove. Multiple times throughout the record a lull might transpire, but Parker seems to always nudge you back with an attention-grabbing post-track breakdown.
Meanwhile, “Instant Destiny” feels like it can veer into chillwave textures exuding Caribou and Four Tet-like production. Moreover, the hook of “Breathe Deeper” might be one of the catchiest bars Parker’s ever written. “If you think I couldn’t hold my own, believe me I can,” echoes Parker in a mesmerizing turn of phrase. On the track’s outro, just when you think the song’s over, Parker dives into this nasty synth part as if realizing he’s at an acid techno club. On the album’s Spotify feature, Parker muses that the track was influenced by Mariah Carey, Pharrell, and his first time taking ecstasy, which some of The Slow Rush ultimately feels like — a slow rush, if you will, of serotonin flooding your brain and stimulating your senses. It’s a very sensory experience that triggers slow motion club dancing, with Parker’s vocals passing through you like a mist to cool off the heat emanating from your drug-induced body.
Something to note is the more traditional lyric-centred songwriting compared to previous records. Parker’s gone from Zappa guitar freak-outs to added gloss; grandiose synths provide a particularly uniform environment instead of guitar leads transporting you to a wealth of fantastical worlds. Parker never really focused on his vocals and lyrics as much as the instrumentals but there’s more contemplating here when Parker gets into some balladry on songs like “On Track.” It’s a heartwarming song that slows down the album’s dance-centric vibe. Parker laments, “The world ain’t routin’ for ya, nothin’ to lose it over / We’re just a little older, the rest gets easy.” It’s a reminder for us trying to realize our dreams that we’re going to come out of this in the end, as a synth whirls behind Parker’s modesty.
On “Posthumous Forgiveness,” the track might draw a yawn with its slow tempo in the intro, but on closer inspection, Parker provides more depth to his songwriting, musing about his failed relationship with his father. It’s really only in the second half of the track (as usual) where things get interesting: a warbling synth plays as Parker’s mesmerizing falsetto sings a tuneful hook to his deceased father: “I wanna tell you ‘bout the time / Wanna tell you ‘bout my life / Wanna play you all my songs.” Interestingly, the second half of the song wasn’t even supposed to be part of the track according to Parker, in an interview with Zane Lowe. Parker reveals a moving revelation to let go of his spite towards his father. It’s a tender sentiment that reveals more of vulnerable side to Parker’s lyricism.
It’s funny seeing someone succeed as much as he is, coming from the world of DIY indie rock — writing songs and collaborating with artists with the likes of Travis Scott, Theophillus London, Lady Gaga and getting covered by Rihanna, — and still feel the kind of insecurity and doubt he faces. On “It Might Be Time,” he muses about losing his touch: “It might be time to face it / It ain’t as fun as it used to be.” Parker’s self-awareness only brings up our own share of nostalgia for the past, yet is ultimately a distraction for the present. Its chorus can be reminiscent of Lonerism’s psych rock leanings where the track’s drums are hit at the record’s hardest. Despite his insecurity, I can already suspect that he’s going to be nominated for a few of Grammys, as well as possibly winning Best Alternative Album for this record next year, considering the hype and persona he’s built over the five years since Currents. I can even see Parker fitting in as a Grammy-nominated producer in the future as a result of his budding reputation, to the chagrin of many older Tame Impala (myself included).
Long are the days of the “Half Glass Full of Wine” version of Tame Impala. Some can argue that The Slow Rush sound might have started on “Feels Like We Go Backwards,” but now “Glimmer” might portend dance music conductor on future records. Just look at Thom Yorke’s IDM musical stylings at the age of 40, Kevin Parker DJ sets abound. It’s only inevitable for any musician’s career to evolve her sound and style, but the traces of Parker’s to arrive at The Slow Rush have always been there. He’s made three almost perfect albums, so you can’t really give him any shit for a relatively weaker, but solid record. Currents soundtracked a whole camping trip full of fond memories for me. The Slow Rush might just soundtrack the longest periods of our lives in quarantine — a chance for us to dwell on the nature of time and pause for a brief moment.
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