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hutchhitched · 4 years

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Social Commentary in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Part III

Part 3. Yeah… There’s a whole lot going on in the last third of the book, and I may have had to put it down a few times because I got really excited about how she wove the new book with the original trilogy. I know some people thought Part 3 was over the top, but I found it purposeful and deliberately on the nose, and I think that’s why it works. If you want to see my thoughts on the rest of the book, here are the links to Part 1 and Part 2.

Major spoilers below:

Tagging some who asked me to and/or are interested: @the-tesseract-wrinkling-time, @shesasurvivor, @everlarkedalways, @xerxia31, @infinitegraces, @panemposts, and @endlessnightlock. Some others are tagged throughout.

Before we move on to Part 3, I have to backtrack to something from Part 2 I forgot to include in the previous meta (I blame being up till 7 am and only getting four hours of sleep for that). In Chapter 18, Reaper stabs and rips the Panem flag and then uses it to cover the fallen tributes. The reaction of the mentors is shock and horror that the flag has been treated in such a manner. There’s a lot to unpack here. First, desecration of the flag in the US (and I’d guess most other countries, too) is almost always guaranteed to get a reaction. There have been attempts to pass a constitutional amendment to make it a federal crime to burn the flag. Others argue burning the flag is something protected as freedom of speech. Yet, official guidelines for how to treat the flag are broken all the time by letting it touch the ground, not lighting it, not taking it down during inclement weather, and turning it into a massive symbol of patriotism by holding it horizontally on a football field. I saw someone make reference to the outrage against NFL players kneeling during the national anthem as being disrespectful to the flag (even though that was a suggestion of a military veteran, as opposed to sitting during the anthem instead) rather than being outraged at the actions those players were protesting (police brutality against African American men). So, who is it that rips down the flag? Reaper, the tribute from District 11. Rue and Thresh were District 11, as were Chaff and Seeder. All were portrayed in the movies by African American actors. It’s fairly clear in the books that it’s a predominately black district. In other words, it’s likely Reaper is also a black man who tears down the flag of a country that oppresses him so he can provide cover and give dignity to the dead tributes. Now, think about it from a “rebel” perspective, and imagine that’s a Confederate flag that was ripped down. I know in the books that the Districts are the rebels and the Panem flag is more connected to the Capitol, but still. The debate over the (mostly successful) removal of the Confederate flag from former slave states has raged in the US in the past decade. Probably the most famous image of that debate is when a black woman climbed the flagpole at the South Carolina Statehouse and ripped down the flag. Remove the flag of the government that oppresses you, which is what Reaper does.

Something I find really interesting is the lack of technology in this book. Panem obviously has advanced technology, but it’s not nearly as present as it is in the trilogy. I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume that’s a result of the depressed economy, and by the time we get to the 74th Hunger Games, the economy in the Capitol has recovered and been used to develop new technologies and products that make life easier for citizens. That’s a post-World War II/1950s consumerism analogy if I’ve ever seen one. Post World War II affluence in the United States was a major factor in the development of new weapons and technology. Because American workers were making more and had savings and wages rose 100% between 1945 and 1968, Americans spent more, bought more, and paid more income tax. The solidification of capitalism as America’s economic system helped the US “win” the Cold War against the Soviets. Because Americans made more and were subsequently taxed more, the government had more money to develop new weapons and technologies. The first computer, the hydrogen bomb, vaccines for polio and smallpox, NASA, and the development of ICBMs all took place during this era. A strong economy typically makes people think the nation/government is strong. Not coincidentally, an early counterculture developed during the 1950s that protested against increased consumerism and senseless spending. The Beats/Beatniks/Beat Generation disliked that Americans spent so much money on frivolous things while others (African Americans, the rural poor, and so on) suffered. Sounds a lot like the Capitol citizens who spent lavishly and didn’t care about the districts. As a slight aside, Allen Ginsberg, one of the Beat Generation’s poets, wrote Howl, which calls out capitalism and repression. I wrote The Cry for @promptsinpanem’s prompt Howl in homage to that. Someday, I might actually expand it.

In Part 2, I wasn’t sure who had the power, and I really couldn’t figure out Highbottom. That’s mostly cleared up for me by the end of the book. I was intrigued by Pluribus Bell’s (many bells, I love it!) story about Highbottom and Snow’s father before Snow left for District 12. It was the seed that let me hope we’d get more information, and we did. Crassus Xanthos Snow is Snow’s father. Crassus was a member of the First Triumvirate (Julius Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus) and helped transition the Roman Republic to the Roman Empire (from pre to post Hunger Games). He also gained power and influence as a soldier during the slave uprising of Spartacus (became a hero during a rebel uprising). Also, Xanthos is a city in Turkey that’s been conquered repeatedly but always recovers (Snow lands on top!). Highbottom’s first name is Casca, who was one of Caesar’s best friends, but he ends up being the first person to stab Caesar during his assassination. The break in the relationship between the two men is clearly why Highbottom turns on (young) Snow, and the explanation about how the Hunger Games come to be is a pretty big allegory to the betrayal of Crassus (Caesar) by Casca. Also, that explains why Highbottom didn’t ever really seem to be supportive of the Games, even though he was credited as their creator. ( @everlvrks)

There are a lot of references to Roman names and places in this book and the trilogy. The Capitol seems pretty obsessed with the Classics and wants to reflect that type of lifestyle and elitism. During grad school, one of the books I had to read discussed the obsession America’s Founding Fathers (Washington, Hamilton, Jefferson, and so on) had with the Classics. They emulated Greek and Roman ideals. The District of Columbia (Washington, DC) is named after the Roman goddess of Liberty. Jefferson’s and Washington’s homes use classical architecture like domes and columns and many of the federal buildings (the Capital and White House) reflect that. Add on the Washington Monument (an obelisk—which are found all over in the ancient world) and the columns of the Lincoln Memorial and the dome and columns of the Jefferson Memorial, and well… The Founding Fathers were Deists who revered the Classics, which is why I (a religious historian) always laugh when people tell me the US was founded on religion. Yeah, and the Civil War wasn’t fought over slavery, either.

Before this book, I would never have thought about Snow having a history with District 12 or a stint as a peacekeeper. I even looked ahead to the title for Part 3 and still didn’t realize that was going to happen, but it makes sense. First, Snow seems to have known Katniss much better than can really be explained. Her hunting outside the fence and her escapes to the Lake were never really solitary because he knew the area. He’d been there before. He’d visited Lucy Gray in the Seam, been to the meadow, and so on. Some people may see that as too much, but it absolutely fits with the draconian oversight of the Capitol during Katniss’ time, and it indicates why Snow was so intrigued and obsessed with her. Second, Snow’s experience in the military would have worked wonders for his political career. He won the Hunger Games, served as peacekeeper, visited the districts, became the youngest person to qualify for officer training, and went to the university. That’s a stellar resumé for a budding politician. Clearly, he was exceptional. Terrible, but exceptional (which is said about super-villain Voldemort in Harry Potter, too).

I had to stop and put the book down and wiggle with glee when the tree appeared in the distance. I didn’t think we’d get the actual Hanging Tree in the book, but that might have been the most thrilling part for me. It wasn’t overt. She didn’t name it. She just set the scene, but I knew what it was. And then to have the hanging and the man yell out to his “love” and the mockingjays pick up his cry and for Snow to see a mockingjay and immediately hate it… Oh, good night, nurse. It’s just too much. That’s when I made this post. I’ll admit, I have a thing for lone, massive trees. My dad has one on his farm, and there’s a huge, very old Burr oak that’s a local tourist attraction close to where I went to college. I felt like I was driving down the road and seeing it rise from the distance, which I did way too many times during undergrad and grad school.

References to the Covey having traveled and planning to again travel north were clear indicators that District 13 was alive and well (sorry for the on the nose pun) even back then. It seems obvious to me that Snow kept that information in the back of his mind as he took power and anticipated an eventual attack from there. The fact that his family’s fortune was destroyed in District 13 makes it even more appropriate that the final rebellion came from there, too.

I didn’t like Lucy Gray in the first two parts of the book, and I’m still not completely taken with her. There’s just something about her I don’t quite trust, and I’m not convinced she was completely in love with Snow. Sejanus thinks she is, but I’m also not sure I trust him to be the most perceptive person either. I’ve discussed this briefly already with some others, but I’m still on the fence about her. I acknowledge that she doesn’t have the same power as Snow does, so it’s not possible by definition for her to play him, but I do think she’s manipulative. Peeta is, too, so that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it does indicate she’s not exactly who she says she is. Lucy Gray’s job as a performer gives me even more pause because her living is made by putting on a show, by performing, by convincing an audience that what she’s doing is authentic. For lack of a better way to put it—If Lucy Gray is a performer, how would Snow ever know what’s real and what’s not real? Sound familiar? (This part’s for you, @lovely-tothe-bone.)

The songs:

Deep in the Meadow—It’s a lot disconcerting that Katniss’ lullaby to her sister is a song Snow’s heard before out of the mouth of the woman he once loved. Equally disturbing to know that he’s been in the meadow, and I really thought that the song was going to be about Lucy Gray and Snow together there. I’m glad it stayed a lullaby and not a love song. I think it’s fabulous that Katniss and Peeta reclaim the meadow for themselves as a place where their daughter dances. It’s a little bit (a lot) poetic.

The Hanging Tree—Well, now that we know where that story comes from, I like it even more. The only part of the book I didn’t really like was Snow thinking he had something figured out and then rethinking and then changing his mind and so on. There was a little bit too much of that as he tried to decipher song lyrics, and particularly with this song.

The public domain songs—I grew up singing these songs (although with some slightly different words), so they all brought a smile to my face. Probably my favorite rendition of Keep on the Sunny Side is from the movie Oh Brother! Where Art Thou? The entire soundtrack is very bluegrass, and good bluegrass is delightful. And it’s nice to know what the Valley Song really is.

Unnamed—Okay, so my favorite was the first one at the Hob (pp. 362-364). I’m no songwriter, but I could hear the tune, and it was very Lumineers (maybe crossed with the Dixie Chicks?). Upbeat and peppy and feel good, all the way. I also find it interesting that music and concerts are outlawed in District 12 once there’s a new base commander. An allegory on the tendency to cut art programs first? On the power of art as a motivation for action? Both?

Which brings us to the star-crossed lovers of District 12, or something. Obviously, this brings up images of Katniss and Peeta, but probably the most famous reference is in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet with the star-crossed lovers taking their lives. That’s often read as them being fated to die, which is something Snow seems to follow. He mentions his destiny and fate many times and doesn’t do a very good job of recognizing his choices. There’s one time during the Games when he resolves to do the right thing, but otherwise, no. Shakespeare does also say in Julius Caesar that the fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves (which John Greene used in his book title). Snow doesn’t want to take responsibility for what he does. He chooses to follow the rules instead of what is right. He’s legalistic instead of ethical. There’re a lot of philosophical and religious undertones to that, but I’ll let that float for a while.

On page 386, Lucy Gray tells Snow, “You’re mine and I’m yours. It’s written in the stars.” I’ll be honest, I almost dropped the book when I read that. In Catching Fire, Katniss says the same thing about Gale, but she doesn’t end up with him. They aren’t fated. She ends up with Peeta, who she chooses to love. I should have known from that point that Lucy Gray and Snow would not end up together, but I still wasn’t sure how that was going to happen. I really did think she was going to break up with him or betray him somehow because that was the only thing I could think of that would make him stop loving her and turn into what he becomes. A broken heart is a really good reason for revenge, but what actually happens so much worse. ( @mtk4fun and @norbertsmom )

Snow and Lucy Gray decide to run away together, just like Katniss and Gale were going to in the original trilogy. Lucy Gray is worried the mayor’s going to kill her, and Snow doesn’t want to live without her. Except he realizes really quickly that he doesn’t like life on the run. It’s beneath him. He deserves better. He’s entitled to and fated for more, he thinks. On top of that, he’s passed the officer’s training exam, and suddenly there’s a way out of the pit into which he’s fallen. And then he lies to Lucy Gray.

Lucy Gray’s said all along the most important thing to her is trust, and then he lies to her. He doesn’t tell her he had a hand in turning in Sejanus. He doesn’t tell her because he’s afraid of losing her, which is a selfish reason, not one to spare her feelings or to protect her. He lies to protect himself. By the time they get to the cabin at the lake, he’s decided he’s not going with her, and she’s realized he’s lied to her. And then the weapon he used to commit murder (for her or him?) is there. Snow snaps quickly after that. There’s a metaphor, I’m sure about him losing his hold on reality and self-control when he’s past the boundaries of civilization, but he falls really, really quickly. He goes from wanting to tell her he’s changed his mind to attempting to murder her. The only thing that really stops him is the snake bite, which is not fatal, but reminds me why I didn’t trust Lucy Gale. Was it deliberate? Did she leave him on purpose? Does she escape him, or does he manage to cut her down? Either way, he doesn’t choose love. Love, which is a selfless act, isn’t his end game. He chooses himself. He chooses being selfish and looking out for himself instead of others. He doesn’t like being vulnerable. He clinically plans to marry someone he doesn’t love, so he never feels exposed again. In short, he makes the opposite choice Katniss does, and that makes all the difference.

A few other things because this is way too long at this point:

Peacekeepers: Boot camp for peacekeepers was interesting and strongly resembles the process of the military stripping down differences and making each soldier part of a machine. Haircuts, uniforms, routines, and so on are all about stripping away his identity, and he hates every second of it. He’s too good for that, and there’s entitlement all over the place. That’s very different from the peacekeepers from the districts who join the military as a way out of poverty. I mean, Snow does, too, but only because he’s forced.

Betrayal: Recording Sejanus and Snow justifying it was hard to read. It was harder to read about the execution. And then to have the Plinths take Snow in after he returns to the Capitol is absolutely the worst. Despicable behavior.

Poisoning Highbottom: It doesn’t surprise me, and it’s exactly what the rumors in the original books were. Snow kills his rivals to ascend.

Snow’s role in the Games: The Hunger Games change dramatically between the 10th and the 74th. It’s clear Snow has a significant role in how and why that happens. The tributes aren’t caged and are housed in luxury. The cattle cars are replaced with a high-speed train with lots of food. The tributes get stylists and prep teams instead of being unwashed and dirty. In other words, the treatment of tributes becomes more humane, which becomes even more problematic. At least Lucy Gray knew she was being offered up as a sacrifice. No one lied to her about what she was. The implementation of these ways to fatten the lambs up for slaughter is horrific and cruel and very Snow.

Finally, the purpose of the Hunger Games changes for Snow by the time we get to the end of the book. They are no longer just a way to punish the districts. They’re a way to exert controlled warfare instead of a messy war between the Capitol and the districts. It’s still kids being forced to kill kids. The tributes are still kids in cages. They’re still “not from here.” The Capitol kids are to be protected, but the parents in the poor areas aren’t able to take care of their own. It’s all deliberate. Collins doesn’t pull punches about the treatment of migrant children in cages or the murder of schoolchildren. What she does is point out that we don’t really mean what we say about protecting children. We’re only outraged for our own, not for those who are different. Suzanne Collins doesn’t have time for white privilege, American elitism, tyrannical government, excessive capitalism, or excuses, and her book reads that way. I loved every word of it.

#tbosas #tbosas spoilers #balladspoilers #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #meta #hunger games meta #spoilers #book spoilers #really #long post

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creative-frequency · 4 years

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Cal Kestis x Reader: DEAR STAR SYSTEM Ch. 03

Word count: 2945 Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Summary/Contains: First visit to Zeffo. Who am I kidding it’s just straight to lovers at this point. Let’s forget the friends first part. Mild angst, (partial) canon-rewrite. Notes: I struggled with the last scene, writing it over and over and editing it so many times but I think it finally (hopefully) conveys what I want now. Tagged some people either cause you asked for it or cause I thought you’d enjoy this. Lmk if you want to be tagged or not!

Previous Chapter

My Writing Masterlist

DEAR STAR SYSTEM // 03

“Ah, Zeffo. My favorite place,” Greez says dreamily and relaxes in his pilot’s chair.

The Mantis takes off from Bogano soil and you sit down, pretending to be focused on the map hovering on the holotable. Cal sits on the other side, equally preoccupied. You try not to look at him while knowing, feeling, that he’s definitely taking glances at you. BD-1 hops over to the holotable to have a better look at the planet you’re heading to.

Before you can think of anything to say to Cal, Greez has a story to tell.

“When this is all over, I think it’ll be a time to settle down, you know?” he continues, “Fall in love, start a family.” He sounds like Zeffo is exactly the planet he wants to spend his retirement days on.

You bite your lip and see how confused Cal is trying to make sense of the Latero. Greez is in one of those moods again.

“Love? You?” Cere voices out in bafflement.

“Yeah? You think a guy like me doesn’t know love?” Greez retorts slightly dejected.

“I bet you’re going to tell me,” Cere says, smiling.

You have to hide your grin behind your hand. Cere hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing about Greez’s adventures because she didn’t join you on that cantina trip on Tatooine. Cal gets up to lean to the cockpit doorway to hear better and even BD-1 turns around to listen and tilts his head.

Greez told you the story before after one too many and some bad situational judgment. There was someone he called the Baroness. You know it’s a fake name since she is still in politics. Wouldn’t have been much work in your previous occupation to dig out who the lady was, but you respect Greez’s privacy – despite your burning curiosity.

As Greez described it, they were deeply in love but eventually her career came between them, driving the lovers apart. Greez played it out as his wanderlust getting in the way but it wasn’t difficult to guess what the reason was really. You also suspect she played an important role in his decision to, if not quit, then at least gamble less. But those were thoughts you would take with you to the grave.

“Let me tell ya. It’s the best, but a lot of work. It needs admiration, devotion, attraction, and respect,” Greez explains with a straight face.

Cal turns to silently ask you is he being serious, but you shake your head fervently.

Cere is surprised by the pilot’s words. “Greez, that’s actually very insightful.”

“Yeah, well. It comes with experience. You can’t look this good and not steal a few hearts.” He must look impossibly complacent. Probably the same as when Cere complements his cooking.

“I bet,” Cere chuckles.

Cal turns to shoot another confused look at you, unsure whether to laugh or offer his sympathies to Greez. He points at the pilot with his thumb and mouths “what’s with him?” to you.

Deeming it best to just bite your lip harder, you tap the seat next to you. Hopefully the pilot will stop talking and focus on flying. It’s best if Greez doesn’t realize you’re pulling faces behind his back, or hear the Jedi questioning his mental well-being.

Cal smiles at your invitational gesture and an unexpected delight splashes inside you.

Before he sits down – closer than you anticipated – you scan him with an inconspicuous measuring look. He seems to be holding up alright considering all things. If stories about Greez’s love life are what get him to relax, so be it.

“Is he always so…” Cal starts quietly but can’t find the word he’s looking for. BD-1 tilts his head. Luckily Greez can’t see the droid on the sofa, again.

“Yes,” you still reply deftly.

You both chuckle as silently as humanely possible, shoulders shaking. You end up realizing you’re staring at Cal’s face, tracing the freckles with your eyes and how they move with his inaudible laughter. It’s the umpteenth time you catch yourself doing that and your quickened pulse gets harder to ignore.

Greez informs you to sit down because you’re about to make the jump to hyperspace. It throws you off enough to calm down. He seems to be done with talking about his love life, for now.

“Have you ever been to Zeffo before?” Cal asks.

You clear your throat to get rid of the last ripples of the tender sensation in your stomach. In the back of your mind you pin the feelings on the jump into hyperspace.

“I haven’t actually. Have you?”

“Nope.” Cal leans back and you follow his line of sight to the holomap of Zeffo.

The hologram of the planet is mostly covered in deep blue and dark green. The white-covered heaps signal snow-tipped mountains and while you’re definitely not a fan of snow, you haven’t seen it in a long time. Zeffo is apparently known for its strong winds and as testimony to that, several huge cloud vortexes cover the map. For once, you’re glad that you don’t have to fly.

“You must be always visiting new places,” Cal says and there’s a hint of jealousy in his voice. BD-1 makes a comforting boop. Cal has been stuck on Bracca for years – partly because of his own decision, but in terms of Imperial presence and living conditions, it wouldn’t have been his first choice.

“Sadly, not so much,” you sigh, “Turns out, that in order to listen to Imperial transmissions, one must stay relative close to the Imps…”

“That’s… understandable. I’m glad you found me. Solid timing,” Cal mumbles and casts his gaze down. The small droid nudges his side.

“I’m actually from Coruscant,” you blurt out to prevent the awkward mood. “Probably wasn’t born there but it was my home for a long time.”

“Oh?” Cal blinks surprised. “Do you have any family?”

“No, well, besides the one I left behind.” You shrug to signal it wasn’t a big deal. It isn’t anymore. Just the factual outcome of your choice to go with Cere.

Cal doesn’t ask anything more and you mentally reprimand yourself for opening your mouth in the first place.

After Greez’s majestic landing on Zeffo despite the strong winds, there is a short dialogue between the Mantis crew on how to proceed. Cere is concerned but knows that time is of the essence. Greez vows he won’t set a foot outside the ship. You sigh and hope that everything will go alright. The storms are interfering with the ship comms and while it’s worrying, there is no time to waste. The Empire might be at your heels without you knowing it.

Cal runs a hand impatiently through his hair. The faster he goes out there, the sooner you can leave. He cannot afford to wait for the comms to start working again.

“I’ll search for signs of Cordova in the meantime,” he says, already turned to leave.

Cere nods. “Good, I’ll be in touch once I crack this.”

Cal heads out into the wind. You pace after him to see the snowy scenery. It’s been a while since you were anywhere with so much winter. And there isn’t even much by the galaxy’s standards. It’s common knowledge that there are planets covered in ice and snow but so far you’ve managed to avoid them. You’re not so eager to get out there with Cal anymore.

“Cal?” you call out as he stays to look around too. You landed on a seemingly abandoned settlement in the eye of the storm.

“Yeah?” He turns to you with a curious look and BD-1 peeps from over his shoulder.

To shield yourself from the weather, you hug your cardigan and hide your hands between your arms and sides. The air is brisk and cold. Cal is wearing a woolen poncho over his clothes and you didn’t think anyone could look good in a poncho. Must be a Jedi thing.

“Be careful out there. You’ll be alone until Cere fixes the communications.” You glance at the lightsaber resting by his thigh and the brave small droid on his back.

“I will. You should head back inside.” He sees you shivering. BD-1 boops in agreement.

“Oh. I was just about to offer to go with you,” you jest and smirk.

Cal’s brows rise. “Really?”

“Mmmaybe some other time or planet. Somewhere warm,” you chuckle and stop your teeth from clattering. The wind bites all the way through to your skin. “I’ll go help Cere. Take care… Cal.”

“Fwoo woo!” BD-1 wishes you good luck.

Cal watches you until the ship doors close. The corners of his lips persistently stay turned upward.

“Beep-boo boooop.”

“W-what?” Cal yelps at the droid’s cheeky suggestion, “No, I don’t.”

“Beep-bo.”

“Okay, just a little. It’s nice to have a friendly face around.”

BD-1 titters and shakes. Cal scoffs. The wind feels colder with you gone inside so he would best get moving.

After the eye of the storm, you manage to find a moment of peace. Cal and Cere have agreed on the next step of the quest to rebuild the Jedi Order. Everyone is somewhat relaxed, bellies full and eyelids drooping. Greez sits on the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, talking with Cere in low voice about whether to land on a large meteor so you all can rest. You’re trying to repair an electrosword on the workstation in the back and Cal leans on the railing next to you, watching as you work with a constant confused frown on your features.

He doesn’t know how to bring up his proficiency in tinkering and fixing things. BD-1 boops and chirps on the table, dancing around the spare parts you’ve gathered. You wish you could understand his commentary better but you’re not exactly fluent in Binary.

“So where did you get that?” Cal asks and tries to not look too much or eagerly over your shoulder.

“Hm? I bought it in the Corellian Sector.” You pause. “On Nar Shaddaa.”

Cal cocks an eyebrow. He didn’t take you for the type to hang out in places like that. BD tilts his head.

You place the obstinately broken electrosword on the table and turn to look at Cal with a serious expression. “There’s a black market for lightsabers. Among other things. I… Sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about that.” Your voice fades. How do you always end up saying the wrong thing with him?

Cal frowns lightly but his eyes stay on yours now that you’re facing him. “It’s okay,” he replies.

Cere sold the kyber crystal from her lightsaber on Nar Shaddaa. She asked you to act as the intermediary to avoid suspicion. The buyer, a delegate to some Hutt crime lord, apparently thought it hilarious to give you a broken electrosword into the bargain.

“Sorry,” you say again. That aching tender feeling is gaining foothold again and it’s getting annoying.

“Do you mind if I give that a try?” Cal nods towards the electrosword and straightens up from the railing.

“Be my guest.”

BD agrees heartily and from what you can understand, he thinks Cal is good at repairing things. You smile at the small droid and give room for Cal by the worktable.

The moment he touches the object, Cal visibly flinches. He squeezes his eyes closed as if under a migraine attack and his fingers spasm. Before you can properly realize something is wrong, the seizure stops and he lets the air out of his lungs in one heavy breath. Your heart is running rampant inside your ribcage.

You grab his arm to turn him towards you. He has gone pale.

“Cal? Cal? Are you okay?” you ask fervently, looking for signs of distress on his body.

Cal’s gaze swims before he can focus and bring a thin smile to his lips.

“Uh, yeah. I’m good. My bad,” he says and grimaces. You let go, slowly. He holds the electrosword up to inspect it better, acting perfectly normal again.

“Be-boop?” BD sounds concerned.

“I’m okay, BD. Really,” Cal assures the droid.

“What just happened?” you press, still a bit shaken.

Cal sees no point in hiding it. “I’m, well, psychometric. When I touch something, I may sense what’s happened to it.”

Your hands fly into the air and you stutter to find the words in a flush of anger, unable to believe that he would be so careless and reckless. “And you just touched an electrosword that’s been Force knows where,” you retort, not amused. You really want to give him an earful.

“Uh, yeah. Someone broke it on Nar Shaddaa.” Cal turns the electrosword around and finds a dent near the tip. “They didn’t last for long without it.” He talks in an even tone but the embarrassment shines through. His ears feel hot and he thinks you must consider him an idiot now.

You bite back the feral talking-to Cal is about to get and sigh. “That’s just horrible.”

Cal stays silent for a moment.

“At least I know you weren’t the one who broke it.” He smiles and you just stare the upward curve, baffled and blinking.

“Your boundless optimism is terrifying,” you assert and step closer to see better what he is doing to the electrosword. “Is there any hope to fixing it?”

Cal chuckles. “What did you just say about my boundless optimism? Yeah. I think so.”

You poke your elbow to his ribs and try to hold back a wavering grin. BD chirps at you.

Cal works with the electrosword as you watch from next to him, arms almost brushing together when he moves. Cal seems genuinely happy to be tinkering and you’ve completely forgotten your original intention of following the repairs to see how he does it. The new objective is to determine how often is too often to glance at his smiling face.

Cal finds it harder and harder to focus. You’re emitting warmth next to him and he is constantly overly conscious of every accident of your arms touching. The more he thinks about it, the more frequent the accidents get until you can stand it no longer and take half a step away. You’re trying to be discreet about it but you both notice the light step as well as if you had just jumped from the ship to avoid touching him.

In any case, it doesn’t help. The heavy mood only amplifies as it bounces back and forth between you and there has to be something you can say or do. Now.

“How does it work then? Can you touch any object and see its past?” you ask finally when your pulse has calmed down from the scare of Cal’s psychometry surprise seizure.

Cal has to collect his thoughts before answering. “Well, all things give off an emanation but that… concentration of the Force has to be strong enough for me to read.” He pauses and straightens up to look at you. “It’s… uhh, it’s hard to explain really.” It’s challenging to finish the thought since you’re still standing way too close and making him stutter in the process.

He looks unbelievably adorable and you throw all caution to the wind. He deserves to feel so abashed after the heart attack he gave you.

“So this…” You lightly take Cal’s free hand and press it against your chest between your collar bones. “Gives you nothing?”

His fingertips touch your neck, slightly calloused and unsure. Maybe even shaking. A rush of red rises to his cheeks and chills run down your spine.

“It doesn’t work on living beings,” Cal mumbles and looks away, utterly flustered.

A slightly snide, teasing smile rises to your lips. He seems so flummoxed. “I meant the necklace.”

His fingers curl around the small pearl and his brow furrows slightly. The touch is cool, careful in staying appropriate and almost makes you regret your impetuous flirting attempt. Your lousy shot at doing something to the heavy atmosphere, while getting back at him is backfiring. The fond and tender feeling just grows from the spot he brushed on your neck.

Cal closes his eyes and deftly ignores the warmth you radiate. He makes sure his fingers don’t touch your skin anymore. They’re tingling enough already. He focuses only on the Force.

Your necklace doesn’t spark any specific emotions. In truth, it feels somewhat indifferent to Cal in relation you. He sees it through a mirror, through your eyes and small wave of complacency, your emotion of complacency, fills him for a moment. It’s soothingly simple. He is relieved to notice how the borrowed feeling sways the flush on his cheeks and clears his head.

“It’s quite new. You bought it ‘cause you thought it was pretty,” Cal says softly. He lets go of the necklace and his hand drops. He backs away, taking purchase from the workstation.

You give him a crooked half-smile. “Makes me sound so vain,” you murmur.

He smiles back at you. “It is pretty–”

BD-1 decides to shower you with the blue scanning beam and you both swing around to look at the abrupt interruption, sternly reminded by the droid’s presence.

“Beeop! Beeop!” He chirps and jumps around the electrosword that still lies broken on the table – a kind notion to continue what you were supposed to do before the whole flirting charade began.

And not a moment later Cere appears on the doorway to ask are you two hungry. You can’t help but wonder did BD interrupt you on purpose while something strongly related to shame burns in your throat and makes it hard to face Cal’s gaze.

Next Chapter

Tagging: @sherniwrites @lucianhuntress @singlebecauseofthechocobros @sevansheart @owldearest @stellar-trinity @bd1babey @winchestergirl907 @thuutthuutbilly @rilakkyungsoo @lizbid33 @twistnet @fangirl-inthe-us @campmccarran @grandadmiral

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #jedi fallen order #swjfo #swjfo fanfiction #star wars #cere junda #greez dritus #bd-1 #my writings #dear star system

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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A Legacy Begun (9)

Chapter 9: A Padawan’s Trial | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Prompt/s in play: Anon prompt (found in Chapter 1 link) + fic idea

A/N: Didn’t have the time to switch on my PS4 just to customize a saber lol so I went to saberforge.com and used their 3D Saber Builder instead. Here’s what i made for Cassidy Kestis’s saber!

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Part 8 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

1 BBY

Your slender fingers wove Cassidy’s bright, scarlet locks into tight, chunky braids. You hummed her favorite lullaby—a force of habit—as you secured the end of the braid with a band. She skipped towards the mirror hanging on the wall and let her fingertips glide over her hair.

“Is that how you like it?”

“Yes, Mommy, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, darling,” you received your thanks in full payment of a kiss and hug from Cassidy. “Go fetch your things now. Don’t forget your jacket, okay?”

“Okay!” she hopped down from her bed and started rummaging through her cabinets for stuff that she’ll bring in the trip.

You excused yourself and exited her bedroom, Cassidy was too excited to coherently reply to your permission. The ten-year-old’s heart was racing, her mind imagined so many things that could possibly happen, and she began visualizing what the place would look like.

Due to her excitement, she didn’t realize that she had taken a bit of her time in packing. She had gone through a raincheck of the contents of her backpack thrice now. She hastily slung the bag on her shoulders and snatched her crumpled poncho lying on a pile.

“Coming, Mom!” she announced, speeding out of her bedroom to join her parents at the door.

She slipped her both her hands into you and Cal’s hands, the three of you left your homestead and trekked towards the Mantis waiting a few meters away from the house.

The ship’s entry ramp unfolded, Cassidy lets go of your hands when you’ve reached a certain distance between the ship, her backpack bobbed up and down in every step as she ran towards the luxury cruiser.

“Aunt Cere! Aunt Merrin!” Cassidy squeaked happily, attempting to fit both women in her scrawny arms.

“Cassidy! Look how big you’ve gotten!” Cere chuckled, her hand patted Cassidy’s head and then hovered it to the empty space to emphasize the girl’s height.

“Any longer and you might just out-tall me—if that’s even a word!” Greez came in waddling into the scene. He had all four of his arms open for Cassidy and she gladly threw herself into them.

“I grew three inches this month!” she bragged, then proceeded to tease him by tussling the non-existent hair on his head to further establish her taking the lead in this height race she has with the Lateron.

The captain grumbled, uncertain to the crew whether he was joking around or is genuinely frustrated that the once-tiny Kestis kid is getting taller and taller each month. You and Cal eventually caught up with the crew, greeting each other with embraces and claps on the shoulders or backs.

“She’s quite excited,” Cere’s eyes rolled to the side, referring to Cassidy who was now busy checking out the terrarium.

“Yeah, let’s hope the entire ordeal doesn’t deter her,”

“She’ll be fine, [y/n],”

Revisiting the engine room and then spotting the lone white cot on the side brought back a lot of memories, it’s as though a long time has passed since you and Cal slept here. It had become an extra room since the three of you have made a home by the forest in Zera III.

You approached the now-empty workbench, you weren’t used to seeing it bare, having only the non-slip mat left—it was eventually returned to its former, cluttered glory when Cal settled the toolboxes specifically for this trip.

“Everything she’ll ever need is right here,”

“Where is she?”

“With Greez at the cockpit,”

“Oh no, is she pestering him to teach her how to drive?” the idea seemed rich, you’re already imagining the Lateron dealing with the redheaded handful that is your daughter.

Cal’s mockingly pensive look and a quick glance to the direction of the door meant “yes.” The two of you laughed among yourselves, Greez’s shouts from the cockpit amplified the comedy that was playing out in your heads. When the laughter died down, you surveyed the quarters.

“Is it just me or did this room just got narrower?”

“Feels pretty much the same to me,”

“Yeah, brings back memories,”

Cal leaned closer to you, his warm breath blew on your shoulder and the hairs on your nape pricked up.

“Oh yeah, which ones?” he purred suggestively.

“Very funny,”

He teased you some more, brushing away the hair over your shoulders to expose your neck for his lips to brush against.

“Cal, not while she’s here,”

“We can always lock the door—say it suddenly jammed,” he nibbled your earlobe as his hand searched for yours to intertwine with.

He continued to suckle your neck, a weak yelp escaped your throat—his eyebrows flicked up upon hearing it, his lips curled in satisfaction as he continued prod the tip of his tongue to the crook of your shoulder. Your arm began to move by itself, reaching for the railing as support—you knew what your body was trying to make you do, with your only weapon being your willpower, your hand gripped the edge of the table instead.

“Well? How about it, love?” he sniggered.

You didn’t know why it pained you to pull yourself away, just when your body was beginning to heat up. You twirled to face him, looked him in the eye and gathered the guts to tell it to his face.

“Might I remind you that we have our daughter on board,” you steeled your voice, when you saw the puppy eyes being deployed, you bit your lip and fiddled with the buckle of Cal’s armor. “But later—when she’s sound asleep.”

A glint in Cal’s eye shone brighter than the white dwarf star found in Zera III’s sky. Amused, you stood on the tips of your toes to plant a tender kiss on his lips. You playfully clapped his chest with both of your hands before walking out of the quarters.

You switched on the holotable and typed the coordinates of Ilum. The message reflected on Greez’s computer and he charted the Mantis to its course.

“Now en route to Ilum!” the Lateron captain announced.

The family lounged in the holotable couch, Cassidy knelt behind Merrin in an attempt to braid her platinum hair which has grown dramatically over time—the length had already reached the center of her spine—and bantered with her father.

“Hey Dad, did you and Mom go to the Gathering together when you were younger?” Cassidy finally secured the twisted braid with a pin fastened to the back of Merrin’s head.

You and Cal exchanged glances, something warranted your eyes to meet. Then Cal quickly turned back to his daughter who now sat beside him on the sofa.

“No, we didn’t, unfortunately,”

“Would’ve been great if you did!”

“Yeah,” Cal trailed off, then returned his glance to you, a rather shy smile traced along his lips. “It would.”

The Mantis’s speed had slowed down, indicating your arrival in the planet’s orbit. Cassidy rushed to the cockpit. In her excitement, she stood between the seats, leaning closer and closer until she gets a better view of the ice-white planet that filled the roundness of her black pupils.

“Whoa, kid! Settle down, we’ll get closer in a few seconds!” Greez grumbled, both amused and overwhelmed by the kid’s wild hybrid of enthusiasm and excitement—honestly, he couldn’t tell which of the two anymore.

“Cassidy, you’ll hit your head once we get atmospheric turbulence,” Cal softly scolded as he assisted in flying the ship.

Cal cautioned her to buckle up and she ran to the nearest seat she could find—the chair opposite of Cere’s. The Mantis quaked as it cut through the thick clouds and heavy sheen of the snowstorm. Greez knew exactly where to the land—in the same spot behind a rock wall against the direction of the wind.

The child hopped out of her seat and sprinted towards the quarters where she had stashed her backpack. She moved with such brisk in the same fashion that one would be in when the phrase “This is not a drill” rings in an alarm. She slipped into the beige poncho with dark grey sleeves which she inherited from Cal. Despite the height she prided herself with, the poncho’s length fell to her shins—had she been shorter, it would have been a robe!

It didn’t bother her though, for she knew that it would keep her extra warm. She popped out of the quarters, the flap of the poncho billowing as she waddled about excitedly.

“Where’s Mom?”

“She’s already in the Temple,” Cal took her hand and the blizzard’s air wafted into the ship, sending literal chills down everybody’s spine.

“Cassidy,” the child glanced over her shoulder to the call of her name. “May the Force be with you.”

She repaid the greeting with a smile and then headed out of the ship. The coldest wind to have ever existed blew onto her already-numbing face, specks of ice pricked her freckled cheeks, and snowflakes have already adorned the twists of her braids as they billowed in the harsh winter gale.

“This blizzard is just the beginning, Cassidy! But don’t let it discourage you,” her father lectured as they stamped through ankle-deep snow—in Cassidy’s case, it’s calf-deep.

Her arm shielded her eyes as she felt the hand of her father on the small of her back, guiding her through the trek towards the entrance of the temple. A great mound of snow, perhaps meters thick, divided Cassidy and her kyber crystal.

“There’s no way we’re getting through this path,” Cal hinted, indirectly urging her to think for herself.

Admittedly, she didn’t anticipate that she’d be challenged head-on this soon. This didn’t discourage the Padawan, she unstrapped her backpack and fished out her own pair of climbing claws—she punched the wall, driving the metal nails into the rock face caked with ice and snow, and started scaling upward.

“Attagirl,” Cal muttered under his breath.

He watched his daughter scale the ice wall, Cassidy had become more acrobatic and lithe with her movements—something that she has utilized greatly to her advantage as she grew up with her training.

The beads of sweat freeze over her pores the second they come out, the closer she got to the top of the ice wall, the heavier her body felt.

“No…! Not now, not when I’m so close!!” she growled through clenched teeth, tugging her one arm out of the wall and then burying the claws again a few inches above her head to hoist herself up.

Come on, Cassidy! Pull up!

She coaxed herself mentally, a stripe of frosted sweat dripped along her temples until she finally reeled herself upward, scuttling through the snow to bring her body to the flat surface. She spotted a pair of boots planted on the soil, when she shot her head up, it was Cal; apparently, she was too caught up in reaching the top of the wall that she didn’t realize her father had beaten her to it. But it wasn’t a race, this was a trial—a trial that she had to face alone.

“Good job,” the emotion in Cal’s voice had unusually become stricter, almost sounding like Jaro Tapal. “We’ll be expecting you inside.”

Without awaiting a reply from her, he disappeared into the opening of the wall—Cassidy followed him into that opening and found an empty room. Another spherical entryway was found in the opposite side of the chamber; easily enough, she figured out the pulley mechanism to trigger the lens to open up, pooling the wall with golden light.

Cassidy followed the path that led to the platform overlooking the main foyer of the temple. She finds both of her parents by the ledge—her mother sitting erect yet relaxed while the father stood tall and proud, their backs turned against another lens.

As the daughter approached, her eyes widened at the sight of the largest crystal she’s ever seen—suspended from the ceiling, at the center of it all, white fog swirled in front of her as she exhaled her gasp.

“Impressive, and to think the main path had been blocked,” you began without prompt, drawing the attention of the girl to you. “But in this temple, you’ll find trials more challenging than the last. Finding one’s kyber is easier said than done. This whole place will test your mettle. Not only will the Force guide you to your crystal, but it will try you—constantly. Your training and skills are your only tools through this obstacle. We will keep a close eye on you, but everything you have to do—you do it alone. You do understand this, don’t you, Cassidy?”

“Yes,” she stiffened her demeanor and steeled her voice. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. May the Force be with you, my child.”

You channeled the Force towards the pulley mechanism, the latch tore off from the port and the metal cover rumbled to reveal a beam of the same warm, golden light. Cal aligned the giant crystal to the light, reflecting and extending the ray of light to the archway that has been frozen solid by another wall of ice. The ice transfigured into water at the mercy of the warm light and then turned to mist the instant it crashed against the snow.

That was Cassidy’s cue. Her Gathering had begun.

Marching through that archway felt like going through a portal to another dimension. Stagnant, cold air wafting through her freckled cheeks was her greeting, and the chill of the cave was her host. The spaciousness of the cavern took her breath away, freezing her lungs as she inhaled and relished in the unforgiving beauty and mystery of Ilum’s ice caves.

Surveying the vastness that stretched in front of her, no sign of her would-be crystal yet. Her eagerness has betrayed her.

“Come on, Cassy, keep moving,” she coaxed herself.

Cassidy aimed the center of the caverns with her eyes, then carved a path on her own towards the inner conclave—with her objective in mind—and disturbed the snow with the soles of her boots. There was an invisible line that she followed—she believed that it was the Force guiding her; but while she’s grateful of the guidance, the anticipation of a challenge, of a test, dangled in the back of her mind.

A rather narrow stone bridge appeared before her. It was fragile—almost too fragile, in fact, that the slightest blow of wind made the rock crack and dust off tiny debris and snow. But on the other side of the beam was much more stable ground, she didn’t think that the sight of such would be so attractive.

“Only one way to find out,”

She puts one foot in front of the other, her pads of her toes touch the first inch, she cautiously brings the other foot next without putting too much of her weight; in a feathery grace, she stretches both her arms for balance as she treaded through the balance beam.

The sound of the bridge giving way was trying to discourage her, but with every light step she takes, she brushes away the thought. Not long enough, she’s made it to the end. Cassidy exhaled sharply upon her realization, but the stone was already crumbling beneath her feet, and so she sprang away a split-second before half of it collapsed, falling into the foggy abyss.

“Did you hear that?” you snapped from your meditation—a way of tracking where Cassidy probably is at the moment.

“She’s fine. I can feel her footsteps from here,”

“I know. But this could possibly be the first challenge she’s faced so far,”

At her arrival of the empty conclave, the statues—caked with snow and whose details have been eroded over time—welcomed her with their hands clasped together. Fascinated, she takes a step closer, examining their details and textures, looking past the snow that obscured their features. This conclave was also the center of a crossroads; each path seduced her with the same end goal, but what they don’t show her is what lies between the crystal and her.

Like any other youngling with the thrill of harvesting their kyber, she wasn’t thorough with her thought process. She’s unconsciously imposed a challenge upon herself when she began going in and out of each pathway. The longer she finds herself losing her bearings, her anxiety, frustration, and impatience combined became louder. The snow and the cold air delivered these emotions to you and Cal Kestis.

“Do you sense it, [y/n]?”

“Yes, so many,” you replied as-a-matter-of-factly. As tempting it might be, you restrained yourself from connecting with Cassidy through the Force.

Let her learn. Let her do this alone. You chanted to yourself, training yourself do what’s on your mind.

It felt like the air had formed ice inside Cassidy’s lungs by now, after running around in circles for a good chunk of time. Vexed, she kicked a wad of snow against the tip of her boots; her little tantrum had allowed her to blow off some steam and thought of her Plan B.

Feel, don’t think. Cassidy recalls the words of her mother.

Keeping herself grounded, she closed her eyes, and concentrated—just as you taught her. Through her mind, she entered each one and saw what they have laid—dangling the prize in front of her like bait to a fish—using her instincts, she assessed them one by one. The moment her eyes shot up, she knew exactly where to go.

Inside the tunnel, it was dim but at the corner of her eye, a mischievous twinkle played with her vision but she never doubted it. She knew what it was. Cassidy followed the gold spark until it revealed itself—hanging by the point of a stalactite like a droplet waiting to fall. A meters-wide gap separated her from the natural enclave where the crystal awaited her.

“That’s it. I know it!” she gasped.

Cassidy didn’t waste any time in heading towards the crystal that calls her. It was the only thing that filled her clear, dark irises. She proceeded to traverse the hostile terrain. Sprinting to her left side, the rock pillars became her stepping stones, bringing her ever closer to her objective. The ridge wall at the end of the path connected her to the enclave.

Due to her over-excitement, a jump done too soon nearly cost her life. Her own climbing claws had her literally hanging on for dear life. Her startled cry ricocheted between the icicles, the echo caused the icy chimes to jangle in a tone-deaf song, the wave of anxiety that sourced from the young Kestis girl alerted her parents.

“She’s found it,” Cal declared.

You could only imagine how Cassidy is holding up right now. That cry that the walls of the cave relayed a different message, but one thing is clear: she’s in the middle of a struggle right now, and she only has herself to depend on.

“Come on…” you mouthed, barely a noise parting from your lips.

Cassidy scaled the porous ice wall, digging the claws deeper through the layer of snow until she could hit something solid. Her arm hooked on the ledge, pulled herself up and squirmed farther away until she’s gotten her body on the ground. Her head angled up, the crystal glimmered so brightly like starlight that she had to blink away for a moment, and then returned her gaze to it afterwards.

Her legs dragged on, summoning herself towards the crystal. When she got close enough, the crystal nestled between her fingers and she gave it a good, quick tug. She let the yellow shard roll on the whole of her palm, her heart leapt and she felt the air in her lungs warm up. She exhaled until her breathing transitioned into a triumphant laugh.

“I got it…!” she annunciated.

The second half of the challenge was finding her way back. Seeing that some portions of the path that led her here were only a one-time use; she retraced her steps—except the stone bridge that gave way, she had to think of another way. Fortunately, she was able to improvise another bridge by Force-pushing a boulder on her left side—landing it into a clean incline for her to slide down on.

From there, things were now easy for Cassidy. She hiked the snow-caked path and found the archway from whence she came. The sight of the giant crystal in the foyer washed relief over the young one, she kept her head high in search of her parents. They appeared before her, proud smiles riddled their faces to welcome her back.

“Well done, Cassidy,” you beamed.

“You have found your kyber crystal, despite the challenges that the Force bestowed in your path. Now, it’s time for you to construct your saber.”

Her parents regrouped with her on the ground level, she followed them to the entry blocked by the mound of snow. You and Cal glanced over your shoulders, fixating your eyes on your daughter.

“Together?” Cal invited.

The child beamed, she tucked her knees and extended her arms—mimicking the posture of her parents—and mustered all the Force she could gather in her being to blast away the mound of snow that barred their exit.

The storm had subsided when they got back out in the open. The family returned to the ship, and they were greeted back by the crew members, Cassidy was especially excited to show off the tiny yellow shard that rested between her fingers. Cal beckoned her to the workbench in his old quarters and showed her the toolboxes filled with components.

“There’s so many to choose from! How will I know which one is the right one for me?”

“You meditate on it as you build, trust your feelings. The Force will help you,” he directed. “It will guide you to what is best for you.”

“Okay… I’ll try, Dad,”

“There’s a good girl,” he kissed her forehead. “I shall leave you to it now. May the Force be with you, Cassidy.”

First, she dug through the container of components. For each and every part she examined, she selected the ones that might have struck something in her, much like a magnetic force that attracted her to it. When it was apparent that she’s finished choosing the parts—from the sleeve down to the emitter—she laid them out in a neat, straight line one by one, with the kyber crystal at the center of it all.

She took a deep breath, relaxed her entire body and began reaching out to the Force for assistance. Even with her vision shrouded, the components moved to her whim—they fittingly connect with one another. Her crystal nestled underneath her switch, the sleeve and pommel latched together. When the final click came from the emitter, she opened her eyes and found the finished product lying in front of her.

Shaky hands cradled the completed hilt, her thumb trailed towards the switch—she hesitated for a second before pressing it—the yellow beam that hissed out of the emitter startled her, but she quickly smiled it off and stared at the golden glow of her very own lightsaber. Finally giving it a feel, she waved it carefully in the narrow space, it hummed to the motion of its owner and she fancied a single basic spin with it.

Her heart jumped with joy, butterflies fluttered all over her stomach, and she celebrated this victory within herself. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of the bright golden beam.

“I did it… I DID IT!!” she squealed from the room, not knowing that her entire family overheard her little celebration.

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hope-for-olicity · 4 years

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Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - March 6th, 2020

Happy Friday! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them. This and all previous Fabulous Olicity Fanfic posts can be found on my blog. Please reblog and share these awesome writers’ works!

Time for a Story multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. https://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

A Soul Lost at Sea multi-chapter WIP by @tinaday3w - MAGNIFICENT regency romance where Oliver is a pirate who had returned to his previous life. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8181362/chapters/22297091

First Impressions multi-chapter WIP by @spaztronautwriter - Felicity has been in the foster care system since she was seven. At fifteen she’s seen enough to know she’s better off on her own. But, after being unexpectedly placed with the Queen family, she just might change her mind. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931329/chapters/47194420

Caught in the Rapture multi-chapter WIP by @bindy417 - AU. Being the daughter of a ruthless and notorious crime lord, Felicity Smoak didn't think her life could get any worse. When her father unexpectedly sells her in marriage as a peace offering to his enemy, she quickly learns it'll take more than just her sharp intellect to survive. But what starts out as a sentence worse than death may actually be her only shot at freedom. http://archiveofourown.org/works/7931917/chapters/18128824

Type O multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics - Being a young Bratva captain, Oliver has had to go above and beyond to prove his worth. Despite some obstacles, he has made quite the name for himself in Starling City. When his life, family and empire are threatened from within, there are only a few people Oliver can truly trust and depend on. His fiery spirited wife, Felicity, is the first person he turns to. https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888546/chapters/49652453

The Magic of Christmas multichapter WIP by yearsofexperience - Felicity is the CEO of her own company, which takes up most of her time. She doesn't have much time to relax so when her best friend suggest they go for a trip to ski lodge in Aspen owned by Oliver Queen, she needs a lot of convincing. Giving in to her friend, Finally, she gives in not knowing that her life is about to turn upside down. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21993718

It's in the Air multi-chapter WIP by @emmilynestill - December 23, 2016. It’s Mayor Queen’s first holiday party and love is in the air. No, wait, that’s tension in the air. Bitterness. Regret. Painful longing for one’s former love. Awkward interactions with current significant others. A little humiliation mixed in. Yup, this was one great party. Then the gas came. Maybe love was in the air Afterall. Just my usual lock Oliver and Felicity in a room with a mind-altering substance with a dash of holiday magic thrown in. And, by magic, I mean Sex Pollen. And maybe a little Truth Serum to stir things up. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21552481

Pieces of Always multi-chapter WIP by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34 - Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows. Ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8220479/chapters/18840356

We Ended as Lovers multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - Three years ago, Felicity’s life was perfect. She was offered a job at two great companies. Her boyfriend just started his own fashion label, and they picked a perfect apartment to live in together. The more heartbroken she was when Oliver got cold feet and it all ended. Now, Felicity is coming back to Starling City, well aware that she is destined to run into her ex-boyfriend there. While old feelings revive quickly, the pain still goes deep. Besides, for some reason Oliver seems to be angry with her. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22034827/chapters/52587292

Santa's Daughter multi-chapter WIP by @christinabeggs - Felicity is Santa’s daughter and she wants to take over the family business. But before she can do that, her father says she must turn the person with the angriest heart and turn him into a believer of magic, love and Christmas. Oliver Queen has become tired, angry, and joyless after spending 5 years earning his MBA and then trying to save his family’s legacy by becoming a ruthless businessman after his father passed away. Can Felicity bring some Christmas cheer into Oliver's life? https://archiveofourown.org/works/21808006/chapters/52039879

// @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @wrongshipper // @thebookjumper// @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 // @laxit21 // - let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!

#FabulousOlicityFanficFriday #olicity fanfiction #fic recs

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 5 years

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Greaser Serpents | Part 2

A/N: I’m planning on doing a five-parter for this one as I love it way too much already. I’ve had a few people asking to be in the tag list, so, if you want to be in the taglist too, just lemme know! :)

Pairing: Sweet Pea x OC (Luna Simmons)

Words: 3054

Warnings: none

It’s been a good week of rehearsals, and Luna has learned to live with the fact that she has to pretend to love the Southside Serpent that’s become her love interest in the musical they’re doing at Riverdale High. To be completely and truly honest, the entire process of rehearsing and singing and dancing with the entire cast has been so much fun thus far. Even with the Serpents. “Okay, Luna, I absolutely love everything about that!” Kevin comments when they’ve finished the scene at the peprally where Sandy and Danny see each other again, but Danny’s being a dick about it. “You’re all amazing!” the director exclaims, overexcitedly. “Let’s take five and then we’re doing Greased Lightning,” the entire cast nods and Kevin looks at them for a moment, taking everything in. He’s proud of this entire cast. Proud of him for picking out the right people for the right characters. Luna as Sandy and Sweet Pea as Danny has been the best idea he’s ever had. Even though they hate each other, the chemistry between them is undeniable. Betty’s the perfect Marty, and Rizzo’s the role of Veronica’s life. Toni as Frenchy and Midge as Jan is the most perfect casting ever. The T-birds are well-cast too. Archie as Kenickie, Jughead as Doody, Fangs as Sonny and Reggie as Putzie. Cheryl plays Patty Simcox and Josie would be Chacha. He had never been prouder of a casting as he was of this one. Those roles are made for his friends and there was no lie in that.

“Can we rehearse lines together tonight?” Betty asks when she and Luna go to sit down in the auditorium. They want to watch the boys perform Greased Lightning and wait for Kevin’s notes on previous scenes too. Luna convinces herself she’s staying to see Archie and Jughead do one of her favorite songs, but in reality, she just wants to see Sweet Pea doing it. “Yeah, sure! I wanted to ask you to help me with the reprise of Look at me I’m Sandra Dee at the end anyway,” Luna whispers to Betty as Kevin calls action on the boys. Sweet Pea stands in his spot, right next to a block of wood where the car will be during the actual play. For now, the wood would do. “Why this car could be systematic,” Sweet Pea begins as he takes his Serpent jacket off with the beat of the music that began to play at the same time. “Hydromatic, ultramatic,” he throws away his jacket and jumps on a table next to the block of wood. Luna’s breath hitches in her throat as she watches him. His biceps flex at every move he makes, and sends shivers down her spine for some reason. Every time he performs one of the songs and his beautiful voice and amazing dancemoves are shown, Luna gets weak in the knees and hates the person he is a little bit less. “We'll get some overhead lifters and four barrel quads, oh yeah,” Sweet Pea sings in a deep, sultry voice, matching the actual voice of John Travolta. “Keep talking, woah, keep talking” Archie sings his line. “A fuel injection cut off and chrome plated rods, oh yeah,” “I'll get the money, I'll kill to get the money” Archie sings again from his spot on the block. “With a four-speed on the floor, they'll be waitin' at the door You know that it ain't shit, we'll be gettin' lots of tit, greased lightnin'” “Go go go, go go go go go go go go,” All the boys sing as they run towards the wooden block. Fangs, Archie, Reggie and Jughead in front and next to the block, Sweet Pea on top. “Go, greased lightnin', you're burnin' up the quarter mile.” “Greased lightnin', go, greased lightnin'” seeing the boys do the iconic dance moves makes Luna smile a little. This is going to be the greatest musical Riverdale High has ever done. During the instrumental bit, the boys o the choreography Toni had taught them as Sweet Pea hops off the wood and does whatever he’s supposed to do as choreography as well. His eyes meet Luna’s, and he gives her a wink. His biceps flex again, weakening her. They sing the last bit and end up in their pose on the wooden block. “Alright, guys! Let’s get to work!” Sweet Pea says his last line before the girls and Kevin in the audience begin cheering. Luna’s eyes are glued on her Serpent co-star and his glance lands on her as well. He gives her a little smile, and inside even melts a little at the look she’s giving him. Her eyes sparkle. Something has shifted inside her that made her stop looking at him with absolute hatred in her eyes. For some reason, her hazel eyes suddenly look lighter. “Amazing, guys!” Kevin tells them with a wide, toothpaste-commercial-like smile. “Let’s call it a day and assemble tomorrow for the epic dance scene!” he informs them, and everyone starts packing up. Sweet Pea walks up to Luna, leaving all of his friends to head home without him. She smiles up at him as she puts her bag over her shoulder. “How about I treat you to a milkshake at Pop’s and we can go over some lines together?” he suggests with a little smile. Her eyes glance over to Betty, who’s heard what the guy asked, and she gives her neighbor a little nod. They could do their lines some other time. Right now, it’s more important that the two get along. And maybe even a little more. “Yeah, sure,” Luna replies with a smile and the two head outside school together. Outside, it’s chucking down rain, almost making it impossible to see one foot in front of them. “Okay, my car is at the back of the parking lot,” Luna mumbles, annoyed at herself for not coming to school earlier so she’d have a better spot. “Whatever we do, we’re going to get soaking wet,” Sweet Pea mumbles. A smirk appears on Luna’s face as she looks up at the tall Serpent, her glance lingering on the tattoo on his neck. He looks down at her, realizing what she’s thinking, and his expression falters, “Not like that,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. Luna giggles a little, shaking her head. “Let’s just make a run for it, shall we?” she suggests with a little sigh. Sweet Pea hums in agreement and, as if on automatic, grabs Luna’s hand in his before dashing off into the rain and dragging the Northsider girl with him. Giggles and loud laughs fill the air, almost muting the pattering rain on the pavement. “Get inside!” Luna yells as she lets go of the boy’s hand and clicks the button on her key to open the car. Both of them get inside, each of them soaking wet, but still laughing through it. “Fuck, that’s cold,” Sweet Pea mutters, wiping his hair back that’s now sticking to his head. That beautiful curl that normally sits on his forehead is gone. “Let’s get to Pop’s,” Luna nods and starts her car, driving off through the rain and to their favorite diner.

“Hello, Luna,” Pop greets her with a smile as he arrives at the booth the two had taken a seat in. The blonde girl smiles up at the old man, happy to see him again. “The usual?” Sweet Pea looks at the girl in front of him, a tender smile on his face. Northsiders are so weird with their usual orders at the diner, but it’s kind of sweet too. “Just the strawberry milkshake today, Pop,” she tells him before glancing to the boy. “A vanilla milkshake for me, please,” Sweet Pea orders, looking at the old man now. Luna’s eyebrows furrow. She never expected a serpent like him to be the vanilla-milkshake type. “And some fries to share,” he adds quickly with a smile. Pop nods and leaves the kids alone. Luna still stares at Sweet Pea, the confused look still plastered on her face. “What?” he asks, blushing only a tiny bit. “Nothing, I just didn’t take you for the vanilla-type,” she shrugs and leans back in her seat. “I guess you just don’t know me that well,” Sweet Pea leans forward, his elbows resting on the table in front of him. Luna opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again. “You might be right. We’re playing the main roles in a musical and have to pretend to be hopelessly devoted to each other, but we don’t even know one another,” she says, more to herself than to Sweet Pea. The guy chuckles and wants to say something, but Pop handing the milkshake and fries interferes with that. “Thanks, Pop,” Sweet Pea tells the man and Luna gives him a thankful smile before taking the metal straw between her teeth. “So, tell me something about you,” he nudges, staring in her eyes as she looks up from her milkshake. He pops a fry into his mouth. “Why don’t you say what you think about me?” she suggests on playing a game. “Ok…” he mumbles and sips from his beverage once, “I think you’re this clean-cut, straight A-student who has been living on the Northside her entire life. You live in this pastel-pink world where your parents love and pamper you to death and your friends live close to you and you spend every waking hour with them. Or that’s what you want people to think…” he trails off at the last part, his eyes scanning her face. Her flawless face with the freckles decorating her nose and cheeks, and her hazelnut bright eyes. Luna chuckles. “Almost,” she replies and takes a deep breath, “My parents don’t really have time for me as they’re too busy building their empire with Hiram Lodge, which I strongly disagree to, by the way. I tried to stop them, believe me, but I’ve failed,” Sweet Pea shifts in his seat at the mention of Hiram Lodge. He’s the reason why his school was shut down and will be closed soon. “I get straight A’s, but I don’t study that much, I have a gift, people tell me,” she scoffs a little at that. She has no clue how she gets straight A’s without studying for it, but it just happens. “I only ever see my friends at school, except for Betty. She lives next door, so I see her every now and then outside of school too,” Sweet Pea listens intently, a smile tugging at his lips. “Your turn,” he then says and takes another sip from his milkshake while she pops a fry in her mouth. She chews for a moment, thinking about what to stay whilst scanning his face. “You’re this tough-looking guy with the intimidating looks and the aggression and violence, but in reality, you’re actually this big soft teddy bear who cares about his friends and family and would literally die for them,” she rambles, leaving Sweet Pea speechless. “Did I get something wrong?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and grabbing a few fries. “Not at all,” he mumbles, a little shocked she got that spot-on, “I don’t really have a family anymore though, not by blood, I mean. The Serpents are my family. And I know you hate us, and you don’t like our laws, but they took me in when I lost my parents in a tragic accident. I never really thought about leaving them. They’ve raised me and I don’t know anything else but that family and their laws. Even if it makes people hate me,” he explains truthfully. Luna stops in her tracks for a moment and stares at the vulnerable Sweet Pea in front of her. “That’s actually really sweet, Sweet Pea,” she chuckles, “No pun intended.” The boy laughs at that a little and grabs a few more fries. The two talk about their lives for a moment, really getting to know each other. For some bizarre reason, Luna feels attracted to him all of a sudden. It’s like a weird connection has grown between them. Like they now see each other in a completely different light and every single drop of hatred they had towards each other, is just gone. Poof. Like that. With only one milkshake and a shared portion of fries. That’s until a couple of Serpents decide to ruin the party.

“What do we have here?” Fangs asks with a smirk as he and a couple other Serpents reach their table. Luna looks at Sweet Pea for a moment, and she can tell he’s getting embarrassed for being caught with a Northsider at Pop’s. “We’re just rehearsing lines, Fogarty,” Sweet Pea grumbles, his fist clenching on the table. “Over milkshakes and fries?” he asks, “This looks more like a date than anything else,” Fangs laughs, making the other Serpents laugh too as if on cue. Luna rolls her eyes at the Serpents, sick of their attitude all the time. They may be family, but they’re still annoying as hell. And most of all, she hates how they treat Northsiders. How they treat her. “It’s nothing, Fangs. You really think I would go on a date with a Northsider?” Sweet Pea asks, only to break Luna’s heart a little. She actually feels it break then and there. Physical pain courses through her chest, and she’d much rather be at home rehearsing lines with Betty instead of this gross, toxic masculinity-filled asshole. Fangs looks at Luna for a moment, feeling sorry for her. She actually seems nice. Why can’t Sweet Pea stand up for her like he should? He knows they’re only teasing him. “Sorry, bro,” Fangs holds up his hands in defense, “You’re coming to the Whyte Wyrm for a game of pool?” Sweet Pea’s eyes glance over at Luna. She’d sunk into her seat, arms crossed and glaring at him. If looks could kill, Sweet Pea would be bleeding to death now. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a moment,” he replies, his voice low. Fangs and the Serpents go to the counter to grab their order from Pop and leave the co-stars alone in the booth. “Luna, I—” he begins to make up some lame excuse, but Luna isn’t having any of it. “You’re always going to be the same, aren’t you?” she asks, “You open up to me about your family and make me believe you’re actually this sweet, vulnerable guy when in reality you’re just the typical chauvinistic macho who thinks he could make girls go weak in the knees,” Sweet Pea sinks in his seat, head hung low. “Isn’t that true, Sweet Pea? Well, sucks for you, but I’m not one of those girls who would fall for your macho-traits. I’m not Sandy,” she stands up, grabbing her bag and shaking her head at him as he’s sulking into his embarrassment. “See you at rehearsals,” she mumbles before leaving him at the diner. Sweet Pea sighs deeply, shaking his head at what had just happened. He hates himself for letting the girl go. For once, he was opening up to someone, letting someone see a more vulnerable side of him. She finally stopped looking at him like he was a culprit, a criminal. She finally looked at him like he was human. “Stranded at the drivin', branded a fool What will they say Monday at school?” he mumbles his lines from his solo song. He wanted to rehearse that scene with Luna, but since that won’t happen anymore, he might as well rehearse the song on his own. “Sandy, can't you see I'm in misery? We made a start, now we're apart There's nothing left for me,” he gets up from his seat, whacks some cash on the table and leaves the diner. Fangs looks at him for a moment, sympathy arising inside of him. This is all his fault. He shouldn’t have come between the two. “Love has flown, all alone I sit and wonder why yi-yi-yi Oh why you left me, oh Sandy, oh Sandy,” he thinks about the conversation they just had and how he could be so stupid to let Fangs get underneath his skin. He could’ve just told him the truth. He could’ve told her the truth. “Baby, someday, when high school is done Somehow, someway, our two worlds will be one In heaven forever and ever we will be Oh, please say you'll stay, oh, Sandy” He walks towards the Northside and stops at Riverdale High where he sees Luna with her friends, talking. She seems angry, probably yelling at Betty about what had happened at the diner. Tears come rushing down her cheeks, and he’s left wondering whether they’re tears of anger or sadness. “Sandy, my darlin' You hurt me real bad You know it's true But, baby, you gotta believe me when I say I'm helpless without you” The boy now makes his way towards the auditorium where he continues to sing his solo. For once in the entire rehearsing-process, he’s really feeling what he’s singing. For once, he’s truly realizing that the crush on his co-star might not just be a crush. But he can’t date a Northsider, can he? He’s a Southside Serpent. He would be ridiculed, and she would be bullied into joining the Serpents and thus doing the dance. “Love has flown, all alone, I sit I wonder why yi-yi-yi, Oh why You left me, Oh Sandy Sandy, Sandy Why yi-yi-yi” She can’t do the Serpent dance. No one is supposed to see her like that. Not before he has. Not before he has told her what he truly feels for her. How the hatred he felt towards her, has disappeared the moment she began singing that first day of rehearsals. “Oh Sandy,” he mumbles the last words with his hands in his hair. Applause makes him jump out his thoughts, his eyes wide as he looks into the audience. “I’m glad you’re rehearsing on your own, man,” Kevin tells him with a smile, “Wish everyone was as dedicated as you.” He’s oblivious to what had just happened. Oblivious to the feelings Sweet Pea has for Luna. Oblivious to what he sang was actually felt deep inside of him.

Taglist: @iamaunicorn4704, @cvvlxx

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godaddywebsitebuilder285 · 4 years

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Cross-Cultural Design

When I first traveledto Japan as an exchange student in 2001, I lived in northern Kyoto, a blockfrom the Kitayama subway station.

My first time using the train to get to my university was almost a disaster, even though it was only two subway stops away. I thought I had everything I needed to successfully make the trip. I double- and triple-checked that I had the correct change in one pocket and a computer printout of where I was supposed to go in the other. I was able to make it down into the station, but then I just stood at a ticket machine, dumbfounded, looking at all the flashing lights, buttons, and maps above my head (Fig 5.1). Everything was so impenetrable. I was overwhelmed by the architecture, the sounds, the signs, and the language.

Fig 5.1: Kyoto subway ticket machines—with many line maps and bilingual station names—can seem complicated, especially to newcomers.

My eyes cravedsomething familiar—and there it was. The ticket machine had a small button thatsaid English! Ipushed it but became even more lost: the instructions were poorly translated,and anyway, they explained a system that I couldn’t use in the first place.

Guess what saved me?Two little old Japanese ladies. As they bought tickets, I casually looked overtheir shoulders to see how they were using the machines. First, they looked up atthe map to find their desired destination. Then, they noted the fare written nextto the station. Finally, they put some money into the machine, pushed thebutton that lit up with their correct fare, and out popped the tickets! Wow! Itried it myself after they left. And after a few tense moments, I got my ticketand headed through the gates to the train platform.

I pride myself onbeing a third-culture kid, meaning I was raised in a cultureother than the country named on my passport. But even with a cultural upbringing in both Nigeriaand the US, it was one of the first times I ever had to guess my way through atask with no previous reference points. And I did it!

Unfortunately, the same guesswork happens online a million times a day. People visit sites that offer them no cultural mental models or visual framework to fall back on, and they end up stumbling through links and pages. Effective visual systems can help eliminate that guesswork and uncertainty by creating layered sets of cues in the design and interface. Let’s look at a few core parts of these design systems and tease out how we can make them more culturally responsive and multifaceted.

Typography

If you work on theweb, you deal with typography all the time. This isn’t a book about typography—othershave written far more eloquently and technically on the subject. What I wouldlike to do, however, is examine some of the ways culture and identityinfluence our perception of type and what typographic choices designers canmake to help create rich cross-cultural experiences.

Stereotypography

I came across the wordstereotypography a few years ago. Being African, I’m well aware of the way my continent isportrayed in Western media—a dirt-poor, rural monoculture with little in theway of technology, education, or urbanization. In the West, one of the most recognizablegraphic markers for things African, tribal, or uncivilized (and no, they arenot the same thing) is the typeface Neuland. Rob Giampietro calls it “the NewBlack Face,” a clever play on words. In an essay, he asks an importantquestion:

How did [Neuland and Lithos] come to signify Africans and African-Americans, regardless of how a designer uses them, and regardless of the purpose for which their creators originally intended them? (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-01/)

From its release in 1923 and continued use through the 1940s in African-American-focused advertising, Neuland has carried heavy connotations and stereotypes of cheapness, ugliness, tribalism, and roughness. You see this even today. Neuland is used in posters for movies like Tarzan, Jurassic Park, and Jumanji—movies that are about jungles, wildness, and scary beasts lurking in the bush, all Western symbolism for the continent of Africa. Even MyFonts’ download page for Neuland (Fig 5.2) includes tags for “Africa,” “jungle fever,” and “primitive”—tags unconnected to anything else in the product besides that racist history.

Fig 5.2: On MyFonts, the Neuland typeface is tagged with “Africa”, “jungle fever”, and “primitive”, perpetuating an old and irrelevant typographic stereotype (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-02/).

Don’t make, use, orsell fonts this way. Here are some tips on how to avoid stereotypography whendefining your digital experiences:

Be immediately suspicious of any typeface that “looks like” a culture or country. For example, so-called “wonton” or “chop-suey” fonts, whose visual style is thought to express “Asianness” or to suggest Chinese calligraphy, have long appeared on food cartons, signs, campaign websites, and even Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirts with racist caricatures of Asians (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-03/). Monotype’s website, where you can buy a version called Mandarin Regular (US$35), cringingly describes the typeface’s story as “an interpretation of artistically drawn Asian brush calligraphy” (Fig 5.3). Whether or not you immediately know its history, run away from any typeface that purports to represent an entire culture.

Fig 5.3: Fonts.com sells a typeface called Mandarin Regular with the following description: “The stylized Asian atmosphere is not created only by the forms of the figures but also by the very name of the typeface. A mandarin was a high official of the ancient Chinese empire” (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-04/).

Support type designers who are from the culture you are designing for. This might seem like it’s a difficult task, but the internet is a big place. I have found that, for clients who are sensitive to cultural issues, the inclusion of type designers’ names and backgrounds can be a powerful differentiator, even making its way into their branding packages as a point of pride.

The world wide webfont

Another common design toolyou should consider is webfonts—fonts specifically designed for use on websitesand apps. One of the main selling points of webfonts is that instead ofputting text in images, clients can use live text on their sites, which isbetter for SEO and accessibility. Theyare simple to implement these days, a matter of adding a line of code orchecking a box on a templating engine. The easiest way to get them on your siteis by using a service like Google Fonts, Fontstand, or Adobe Fonts.

Or is it? That assumesthose services are actually available to your users.

Google Fonts (and every other service using Google’s Developer API) is blocked in mainland China, which means that any of those nice free fonts you chose would simply not load (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-05/). You can work around this, but it also helps to have a fallback font—that’s what they’re for.

When you’re building your design system, why not take a few extra steps to define some webfonts that are visible in places with content blocks? Justfont is one of the first services focused on offering a wide range of Chinese webfonts (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-06/). They have both free and paid tiers of service, similar to Western font services. After setting up an account, you can grab whatever CSS and font-family information you need.

Multiple scriptsystems

When your design workrequires more than one script—for instance, a Korean typeface and a Latintypeface—your choices get much more difficult. Designs that incorporate morethan one are called multiple script systems (multiscript systems for short). Combining them is aninteresting design challenge, one that requires extra typographic sensitivity. Luckily,your multiscript choices will rarely appear on the same page together; you willusually be choosing fonts that work across the brand, not that work well nextto one another visually.

Let’s take a look at an example of effective multiscript use. SurveyMonkey, an online survey and questionnaire tool, has their site localized into a variety of different languages (Fig 5.4). Take note of the headers, the structure of the text in the menu and buttons, and how both fonts feel like part of the same brand.

Fig 5.4: Compare the typographic choices in the Korean (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-07/) and US English (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-08/) versions of SurveyMonkey’s Take a Tour page. Do the header type and spacing retain the spirit of the brand while still accounting for typographic needs?

Some tips as you attempt to choose multiscript fonts for yourproject:

Inspect the overall weight and contrast level of the scripts. Take the time to examine how weight and contrast are used in the scripts you’re using. Find weights and sizes that give you a similar feel and give the page the right balance, regardless of the script.

Keep an eye on awkward script features. Character x-heights, descenders, ascenders, and spacing can throw off the overall brand effect. For instance, Japanese characters are always positioned within a grid with all characters designed to fit in squares of equal height and width. Standard Japanese typefaces also contain Latin characters, called romaji. Those Latin characters will, by default, be kerned according to that same grid pattern, often leaving their spacing awkward and ill-formed. Take the extra time to find a typeface that doesn’t have features that are awkward to work with.

Don’t automatically choose scripts based on superficial similarity. Initial impressions don’t always mean a typeface is the right one for your project. In an interview in the book Bi-Scriptual, Jeongmin Kwon, a typeface designer based in France, offers an example (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-09/). Nanum Myeongjo, a contemporary Hangul typeface, might at first glance look really similar to a seventeenth-century Latin old-style typeface—for instance, they both have angled serifs. However, Nanum Myeongjo was designed in 2008 with refined, modern strokes, whereas old-style typefaces were originally created centuries ago and echo handwritten letterforms (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-10/). Looking at the Google Fonts page for Nanum Myeongjo, though, none of that is clear (Fig 5.5). The page automatically generates a Latin Nn glyph in the top left of the page, instead of a more representative Hangul character sample. If I based my multiscript font choices on my initial reactions to that page, my pairings wouldn’t accurately capture the history and design of each typeface.

Fig 5.5: The Google Fonts page for Nanum Myeongjo shows a Latin character sample in the top left, rather than a more representative character sample.

Visual density

CSS can help you controlvisual density—how much text, image, and other content there is relative to thenegative space on your page. As you read on, keep cultural variables in mind: differentcultures value different levels of visual density.

Let’s compare what arecommonly called CJK(Chinese, Japanese, Korean) alphabets and Latin (English, French, Italian, etc.) alphabets. CJK alphabetshave more complex characters, with shapes that are generally squarer than Latinletterforms. The glyphs also tend to be more detailed than Latin ones, resultingin a higher visual density.

Your instinct might beto create custom type sizes and line heights for each of your localized pages.That is a perfectly acceptable option, and if you are a typophile, it may driveyou crazy not todo it. But I’m here to tell you that when adding CJK languages to a designsystem, you can update it to account for their visual density without rippingout a lot of your original CSS:

Choose a font size that is slightly larger for CJK characters, because of their density.

Choose a line height that gives you ample vertical space between each line of text (referred to as line-height in CSS).

Look at your Latin text in the same sizes and see if it still works.

Tweak them together to find a size that works well with both scripts.

The 2017 site for Typojanchi, the Korean Typography Biennale, follows this methodology (Fig 5.6). Both the English and Korean texts have a font-size of 1.25em, and a line-height of 1.5. The result? The English text takes up more space vertically, and the block of Korean text is visually denser, but both are readable and sit comfortably within the overall page design. It is useful to compare translated websites like this to see how CSS styling can be standardized across Latin and CJK pages.

Fig 5.6: The 2017 site for Typojanchi, the Korean Typography Biennale, shows differing visual density in action. It is useful to compare translated websites like this to see how CSS styling can be standardized across Latin and CJK pages (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-11/).

Text expansion factors

Expansion factors calculatehow long strings of text will be in different languages. They use either adecimal (1.8) or a percentage (180%) to calculate the length of a text stringin English versus a different language. Of course, letter-spacing depends onthe actual word or phrase, but think of them as a very rough way to anticipate spacefor text when it gets translated.

Using expansion factors is best when planning for microcopy, calls to action, and menus, rather than long-form content like articles or blog posts that can freely expand down the page. The Salesforce Lightning Design System offers a detailed expansion-factor table to help designers roughly calculate space requirements for other languages in a UI (Fig 5.7).

Fig 5.7: This expansion-factor table from Salesforce lets designers and developers estimate the amount of text that will exist in different languages. Though dependent on the actual words, such calculations can give you a benchmark to design with content in mind (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-12/).

But wait! Likeeverything in cross-cultural design, nothing is ever that simple. Japanese, forexample, has three scripts: Kanji, for characters of Chinese origin,hiragana, for words and sounds that are not represented in kanji, and katakana,for words borrowed from otherlanguages.

The follow button is a core part of the Twitter experience. It has six characters in English (“Follow”) and four in Japanese (フォロー), but the Japanese version is twenty percent longer because it is in katakana, and those characters take up more space than kanji (Fig 5.8). Expansion tables can struggle to accommodate the complex diversity of human scripts and languages, so don’t look to them as a one-stop or infallible solution.

Fig 5.8: On Twitter, expansion is clearly visible: the English “Follow” button text comes in at about 47 pixels wide, while the Japanese text comes in at 60 pixels wide.

Here are a few thingsyou can do keep expansion factors in mind as you design:

Generate dummy text in different languages for your design comps. Of course, you should make sure your text doesn’t contain any unintentional swearwords or improper language, but tools like Foreign Ipsum are a good place to start getting your head around expansion factors (http://bkaprt.com/ccd/05-13/).

Leave extra space around buttons, menu items, and other microcopy. As well as being general good practice in responsive design, this allows you to account for how text in your target languages expands.

Make sure your components are expandable. Stay away from assigning a fixed width to your UI elements unless it’s unavoidable.

Let longer text strings wrap to a second line. Just ensure that text is aligned correctly and is easy to scan.

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dogfinder2 · 4 years

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Becoming the Best Society Entertainer Magician You Can Be

"First think as an entertainer, then as a magician"

Any person may learn and also do a magical"trick", but to choose a hint and transform it in an remarkable performance is just one of those secrets to doing good magic. May I suggest many people DO NOT prefer to feel like they will have now already been"tricked" or even"fooled", alternatively they prefer to understand they've participate in good entertainment.

Maybe you have been curious about why you would like to complete"magic Tricks"? Is it to your own fame and luck because you might possess a fire to amuse?

"First think as an entertainer, then as a magician"

As New York Based Master Society Entertainer Magician Simon Lovell says"Magicians worry about'How can I take action ' Instead of 'Why' do I do it? There in lies one of the biggest problems -- there has to be a reason. Magic intrinsically is an illogical thing, but you can do it at least in a logical way. You ask, what is more important to me -- an audience remembering me or the tricks I perform? I would rather them remember me than the tricks I perform. It is essential to create uniqueness about yourself - separate yourself from the masses"

Personal Case Study:

While at a cook out last summer I had been talking with the server and he desired for me to amuse my guests, even excluding himselfas he explained"I am not fond of'magical', I do not enjoy it". Such as this particular gentleman, you will find people who frankly do not delight in watching magical, however, maybe perhaps not enjoying magic isn't just a terrible thing.

At an incident similar to this DO NOT SAY"BUT, YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN ME PERFORM" (Unless of class in the exact identical sentence you've got the capability to generate a two ton wolf look within his swimmingpool and also result in a parade of camels to parade throughout the picnic space. Should you possess this capacity, I will caution, then he can call upon a native ministry to carry out an exorcism).

Inside this scenario as an example I inquired VERY un-aggressively"Have you ever seen a live licensed society entertainer close-up magician?" For the he explained,"Yes" (In a humorous, ''..."magic is only a good idea for children's birthday parties"... type of tone). His opinion didn't offend me since I have heard this earlier; I reacted to him having"So you have not seen an"impressive" sleight of hand artist?" For the he said"No, the magicians I have seen seemed OK for kid's but too cheesy and dated for me."

"First think as an entertainer, then as a magician"

After a time travelling acting because of his picnic guests, then I approached him and inquired if he'd think about giving his frank opinion of some thing I have now already been focusing and when he'd believe it's all up to level to do because of his pals? He stated,"Sure, go ahead." Fastforward several hoursby the day's end he had been asking I work for"this individual and that one over there, oh and they would love the one you just did with me." Such as this particular individual, the majority of people have observed the"pick any card TRICK" and also"make six piles TRICK", etc.. Bear in mind, eventually become an entertainer, not simply a magician (trickster).

CHILDREN'S PARTIES

Inside my kids' birthday party shows I amuse the young adults just as far as the kiddies, section of my assurance! is ALL THEIR GUESTS WILL BE TRULY ENTERTAINED OR THEY PAY ME NOTHING! I've NEVER had some one take me up with this deal. . .EVER (Humbly Stated).

Ordinarily whilst the guests are coming (at a young child's birthday party) I shall do some walk round magical (A FREE BONUS), your customer adores this because there was certainly NO dead distance and you also have more chance to contact the adults and kiddies earlier"show" period. The parents in presence love to understand who's amusing their own children. While I do what I call"Maryland Style Close-Up Magic" to your young ones they be given a better peek into who I am and also they aren't"just" at a"child's birthday party" anymore.

"First think as an entertainer, then as a magician"

Some times while achieving such a walk round I may have two or one of those laidback, trendy, brew drinking guys and their friends saying (because I attitude )"No, go show the tricks to the kids, I do not want to see any of that stuff it is for children." I can return with"Oh, you know I have been working on a few things for this show, for the kid's," (I shall often browse around as though I am sharing a romantic relationship using them) and indicate,"would you mind/ be so kind to allow me to show you something I may want to perform for the children, you be the judge. Let me know if you think the children will enjoy this or not."

Now I current Master Magic Creator John Kennedy's"Mystery Box", Blizzard Deck out of Master Magician Dean Dill of all Los Angeles California or perhaps some mentalism (Mind-Reading) / card sleights of Dai Vernon (AKA The Professor). The answer to those would be ALWAYS phenomenal!!! Why? I think being a entertainer, then being a magician". These guys always ask to see more and then to show more of this amazing magic to their friends. I also find they get better involved when it comes to the "kid's" part of the show! They are now the ones taking a front row seat.

WHY PERFORM MAGIC TRICKS

You may go into a Baltimore, Maryland magic shop and purchase the newest, neatest, trick on the market. After you get it home, the package ripped open, you can hardly contain the excitement, you read the directions, go through the routine a couple times and then run out of your room showing your parents, husband, wife and/ or children. Showing off your "skills" you now possess with your T.T., Professors Nightmare, and a stripper deck.

Your friends encourage you and say..."wow"... that is neat, your parents tell you"You would be the most useful magician they've ever seen" and because you have a few weeks of"clinic" and have bought 15 of the"trendiest" tricks sold in a local magic studio today you believe you are"ready" to perform as a professional. You make business cards with your name stating you do kids birthday parties, etc.. Now you are going to be making money.

PLEASE! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!

First, have you taken time to consider why you want to do "magic Tricks"? Is it for the fame and fortune? If I asked if you know who David Blaine and David Copperfield are, you would not hesitate to say"they have been wealthy and famous magicians." Right you would be. But if I were to ask you if you knew the name of Puck, Scott Alexander or Dennis Haney to name a few?

Your reply may be"whois Puck, Scott Alexander or even Dennis Haney? Why have not I heard about these " I say to you"They can be excellent magicians." You reply,"when they're so beautiful, I might have seen on TV." The answer to your last statement is simple -- they have been working, and practicing, taking advice, practicing, learning, creating, performing and practicing.

Scott Alexander has been a top pro for many years and one of the busiest professionals in the world. His credits include Denny & Lee, Malone's Bar in Boca, cruise ships all over the world, Caesar Magical Empire, and now he is starring in his own show at Fitzgerald's in Las Vegas. His style is simple -- comedy that goes right to the center of the audience's brain.

Master entertainer magician Puck headlines around the globe traveling from Orlando, FL one of the most sought after entertainers in the nation.

Dennis Haney is one of the most "famous" of all three named here. He owns two magic shops/ studios one is local in Baltimore, Maryland and the other in Las Vegas, Nevada - his tag line is:"Where the experts shop"; Mr. Haney is among the who's who in the world of magic / NaijaVibe (worldwide).

If you try and follow fame and fortune more than likely you will be as Client Eastwood so calmly said in one of his movies"You certainly really are a legend in your mind" Do not pursue fame and fortune, let it find you. Keep on practicing, rehearsing, reading and listening to those in the trenches, learn from their mistakes and their victories. Did David Copperfield"only appear" on the scene? (bad play on words, I know but hey. . .it is a free article what do you expect), no, he was practicing over and over again. Practice does not make perfect, as one individual told me some time ago,"perfect practice makes perfect"

"First think as an entertainer, then as a magician"

Practice, practice and practice some more. Once you've practiced a few instances, multiplied by 10 then move in your closest magic store, or into some community regular magician and suggest to them exactly what you have now already been doing work on, then you've got two ears and one mouth, then use the first two and never the previous one, tune in to exactly what they must say. Return straight back and clinic, oh, by how have I said that must clinic? (I state this having a curious smile ).

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suzanneshannon · 4 years

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Cross-Cultural Design

When I first traveled to Japan as an exchange student in 2001, I lived in northern Kyoto, a block from the Kitayama subway station.

Fig 5.1: Kyoto subway ticket machines—with many line maps and bilingual station names—can seem complicated, especially to newcomers.

My eyes craved something familiar—and there it was. The ticket machine had a small button that said English! I pushed it but became even more lost: the instructions were poorly translated, and anyway, they explained a system that I couldn’t use in the first place.

Guess what saved me? Two little old Japanese ladies. As they bought tickets, I casually looked over their shoulders to see how they were using the machines. First, they looked up at the map to find their desired destination. Then, they noted the fare written next to the station. Finally, they put some money into the machine, pushed the button that lit up with their correct fare, and out popped the tickets! Wow! I tried it myself after they left. And after a few tense moments, I got my ticket and headed through the gates to the train platform.

I pride myself on being a third-culture kid, meaning I was raised in a culture other than the country named on my passport. But even with a cultural upbringing in both Nigeria and the US, it was one of the first times I ever had to guess my way through a task with no previous reference points. And I did it!

Typography

If you work on the web, you deal with typography all the time. This isn’t a book about typography—others have written far more eloquently and technically on the subject. What I would like to do, however, is examine some of the ways culture and identity influence our perception of type and what typographic choices designers can make to help create rich cross-cultural experiences.

Stereotypography

I came across the word stereotypography a few years ago. Being African, I’m well aware of the way my continent is portrayed in Western media—a dirt-poor, rural monoculture with little in the way of technology, education, or urbanization. In the West, one of the most recognizable graphic markers for things African, tribal, or uncivilized (and no, they are not the same thing) is the typeface Neuland. Rob Giampietro calls it “the New Black Face,” a clever play on words. In an essay, he asks an important question:

Don’t make, use, or sell fonts this way. Here are some tips on how to avoid stereotypography when defining your digital experiences:

The world wide webfont

Another common design tool you should consider is webfonts—fonts specifically designed for use on websites and apps. One of the main selling points of webfonts is that instead of putting text in images, clients can use live text on their sites, which is better for SEO and accessibility. They are simple to implement these days, a matter of adding a line of code or checking a box on a templating engine. The easiest way to get them on your site is by using a service like Google Fonts, Fontstand, or Adobe Fonts.

Or is it? That assumes those services are actually available to your users.

Multiple script systems

When your design work requires more than one script—for instance, a Korean typeface and a Latin typeface—your choices get much more difficult. Designs that incorporate more than one are called multiple script systems (multiscript systems for short). Combining them is an interesting design challenge, one that requires extra typographic sensitivity. Luckily, your multiscript choices will rarely appear on the same page together; you will usually be choosing fonts that work across the brand, not that work well next to one another visually.

Some tips as you attempt to choose multiscript fonts for your project:

Fig 5.5: The Google Fonts page for Nanum Myeongjo shows a Latin character sample in the top left, rather than a more representative character sample.

Visual density

CSS can help you control visual density—how much text, image, and other content there is relative to the negative space on your page. As you read on, keep cultural variables in mind: different cultures value different levels of visual density.

Let’s compare what are commonly called CJK (Chinese, Japanese, Korean) alphabets and Latin (English, French, Italian, etc.) alphabets. CJK alphabets have more complex characters, with shapes that are generally squarer than Latin letterforms. The glyphs also tend to be more detailed than Latin ones, resulting in a higher visual density.

Your instinct might be to create custom type sizes and line heights for each of your localized pages. That is a perfectly acceptable option, and if you are a typophile, it may drive you crazy not to do it. But I’m here to tell you that when adding CJK languages to a design system, you can update it to account for their visual density without ripping out a lot of your original CSS:

Choose a font size that is slightly larger for CJK characters, because of their density.

Choose a line height that gives you ample vertical space between each line of text (referred to as line-height in CSS).

Look at your Latin text in the same sizes and see if it still works.

Tweak them together to find a size that works well with both scripts.

Text expansion factors

Expansion factors calculate how long strings of text will be in different languages. They use either a decimal (1.8) or a percentage (180%) to calculate the length of a text string in English versus a different language. Of course, letter-spacing depends on the actual word or phrase, but think of them as a very rough way to anticipate space for text when it gets translated.

But wait! Like everything in cross-cultural design, nothing is ever that simple. Japanese, for example, has three scripts: Kanji, for characters of Chinese origin, hiragana, for words and sounds that are not represented in kanji, and katakana, for words borrowed from other languages.

Fig 5.8: On Twitter, expansion is clearly visible: the English “Follow” button text comes in at about 47 pixels wide, while the Japanese text comes in at 60 pixels wide.

Here are a few things you can do keep expansion factors in mind as you design:

Make sure your components are expandable. Stay away from assigning a fixed width to your UI elements unless it’s unavoidable.

Let longer text strings wrap to a second line. Just ensure that text is aligned correctly and is easy to scan.

Cross-Cultural Design published first on https://deskbysnafu.tumblr.com/

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 7 years

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Ideas for Themes for Strange Magic Weeks (so far)

Suggested themes will be collected here. Rather than reblogs, this post will be edited as new themes are received (with some time delay if I’m not at the computer), so they can all be seen at once in the Strange Magic Week tag.

Deadline for suggesting themes is Wednesday August 9th. (So, if you submit a theme at 11:59 pm Wednesday night, it will make the list, but if you suggest one at 12:01 am Thursday morning, it probably won’t.)

On Thursday August 10th, I will create a new post - the Voting post. Send me an Ask, or Reply or Reblog the Voting Post, with your Top 5 choices for themes. The most popular seven will be the daily themes, and the next three (or four if we have another tie) will be the optional themes.

Voting ends on Friday August 11th. (Get your vote in before 11:59 pm on Friday night, though really I’ll probably still count it if it shows up before I get up on Saturday morning.)

I’ll post the final Theme List on Saturday so there’ll be a day to prepare and Strange Magic Week can start on Sunday. Themes will be in reverse order of popularity, so the one with the most votes will be on Day 7.

Today’s the 5th but I didn’t post this until evening, so there are, functionally speaking, 4 days to suggest themes, 2 days to vote for themes, and 1 day to get started before things start posting. (There is no ‘time of day’ you have to have it posted by, and I for one won’t be upset if people decide to use the themes out of order and post something on the ‘wrong’ day.)

Role Reversal. It’s been done, but it was on the theme list both times we’ve done this before, which suggests it’s a sustained interest.

Chat Room/Texting/Pen Pals. Characters writing to one another. The initial idea lends itself to a Human AU, but correspondence could also happen in the original setting.

Historical Fiction. Medieval, 1920s, Aristocratic Comedy of Manners, Jules Verne type adventure ... or the sorts of thing that might appear as ‘historical fiction’ in canon, like stories of past fairy royalty.

Roland Redemption OR Revenge Upon Roland. Some people want him to turn out to be not so terrible and some people want his head on a stick. He gets a theme day for his fans and anti-fans to express their views. (Could lead to fandom drama so may need to lay some rules of etiquette.)

Kids Day. Again, a repeat of what’s gone before, looking back into characters’ childhoods or forward to the next generation - or maybe draw games or toys you think characters would’ve played with as kids.

When We Are Old. A look into the characters’ future, in counterpoint to ‘When We Were Young’.

Arranged Marriage. AU where characters meet because they were arranged to marry each other, or sequel where they find out they’re betrothed to someone else but are already in a relationship? You decide!

Fake Dating. Usually leads to Real Dating, after the obligatory period of Mutual Pining Due To Unawareness That Affection Is Also Mutual. Could also be a way for asexual or aromatic characters to avoid matchmakers.

Soulmate AU. I’ve seen these before, mostly in Avengers fanfiction, and the idea seems to be you have a mark that matches your soulmate’s, or their name on you somewhere, or an intangible line linking you to them, or their first words to you printed on your skin (usually in their handwriting), or a countdown to when you will meet, or you don’t see colours until you meet them, or you share injuries, or there’s a telepathic bond, or what you write on your skin shows up on theirs.

Masquerade. Magical beings of some variety concealing their nature from a non-magical world, or a costume party, or possibly a Phantom of the Opera AU.

Star Wars AU. Because it’s Lucasfilm. Maybe the Millennium Falcon lands in the Fairy Kingdom, or there are Ewoks in the Dark Forest, or everyone’s just reimagined as members of the Rebellion and Empire.

Everyone Picks From The Previous Years’ Prompts. Getting another chance if you missed out on participating then!

Travel. Vacation? Business trip? Diplomacy tour? Who’s going? Where are they going, and why? How do they get there? What if they get lost?

Forbidden Love. This prompt is specifically intended to refer to ‘goblins courting during the Love Ban’, but it can refer to any forbidden love.

Proposal. Not just a marriage thing - it could be a business venture, or a diplomatic one, or a thesis proposal in a college AU.

Beyond Field and Forest. What other nations or regions neighbour the Dark Forest and the Fairy Kingdom?

Food. What do fairies and elves and goblins eat? Where does it come from? Cooking, farming, hunting, and foraging stories and pictures.

Existing Media AU. Crossover with another movie, book, game, or TV show.

Highlight Reel. Instead of creating new content, share your favourite parts of things that you, or others, have already made.

Continuation. Write the next chapter of, or a sequel to, something you wrote on a previous Strange Magic Week. If this is your first Strange Magic Week, write the next chapter of one of your works in progress, or a sequel to one of your other stories.

Merchandise. Strange Magic toys or costumes or jewellery or bookmarks.

Fill That Plot Hole. Explore something the movie either left unanswered or left ambiguous, such as the Imp’s backstory.

Canon Divergence. A point where the timeline splinters, such as what might’ve happened if someone in the Fairy Kingdom had heard Sunny yelling about his plan on the way to the Forest, or the Fairy King took it badly when Roland described himself as “even better” than the king in front of basically everyone.

Music Day. Choose your favorite song from the movie and make a cover. Can be singing, instrumental, collaboration, acapella - or, if you don’t want to sing, fancy calligraphy of the lyrics or suggested choreography.

Free Space. Like in Bingo. In case someone has an idea that doesn’t make the theme list.

Modern Fantasy.Take a modern AU of the story, but keep the characters as fae. Are they still in political power? Are they just regular citizens? Are fae the ones with the modern society, or are they hiding amongst humans?

Fake Exes AU. They know each other from something they don't want to admit (like LARPing, or crime, or something), then meet again in a different social context. When asked how they know each other, they claim that they are exes/used to date.

Space Aliens AU. Bonus if Bog is from the human faction and Marianne and Dawn are the bizarre aliens.

Rumpelstiltskin AU. Someone wants something turned to gold and/or demands someone else’s first born.

Mobster AU. This doesn’t even have to be a human AU - there could be organized crime in the Fairy Kingdom or Dark Forest.

Hollywood/Rockstar AU. One or more characters are stars or looking to make it big - or maybe they’re all agents commiserating about their demanding clients. (Fun sub-prompt - Marianne manages Roland, an actor/model, AND Bog, a rock star.)

#Strange Magic #strange magic week

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thecorteztwins · 7 years

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MUTANT EMPIRE: SIEGE

I thought I had misplaced this book while cleaning, but I remembered today I had taken it to a LARP to read during downtime and then forgotten it was still in the bag. Chapter Five was more of the outer space plot, and Chapter Six...is still not back to Magneto's Manhattan, so I won't tag the magnets this time, but it does focus on Charles, so I will tag @captaindicks and @hexiva because we find out Charles’s preferences in women, who he’s okay with pushing his chairs, and the one person to ever guess Professor Xavier has anything to do with the X-Men.

Basically, Charles is getting ready to address the media. When he does so, he says that the President's current cautious course of action is correct and that the mass attack by the military suggested by Senator Kelly and Graydon Creed would, due to the Sentinels that Magneto has under his control, cause nothing but property damage and likely civilian casualties. While he agrees force is not unwarranted, this particular method would be useless. I think that's a good thing to note about Charles---he doesn't demand every situation be always handled peacefully, he obviously does see force as an option, and an option he frequently uses/condones. He just believes in looking at other options first, and also judging what SORT of force is needed for the right outcome. Hence why the X-Men have currently gone into Manhattan to handle this (the ones who aren't in space, anyway) I'm not sure if the public is aware of that, I've been kinda skimming for the parts that interest me. Also, reminder that this is the 90s, so as far as everyone knows, Professor Xavier is a human expert on mutants/mutant rights proponent, but he is a HUMAN and has NOTHING to do with the X-Men. He is then asked about the killing of humans by Acolytes “in cold blood” caught on tape and “the abduction of local reporter Trish Tilby and her cameraman” If you'll recall from my last post, Trish and her cameraman have not in fact been abducted, but chosen to stay in Manhattan of their own volition. It's understandable that people on the outside would assume a kidnapping though. Also, while the Acolytes did kill two humans last chapter, I would not say it was done in cold blood. A human mob was swarming them, and two attempted to kill them. Specifically, a man fired a gun at the teleporter Amelia Voght, who by reflex teleported the bullets away from herself and into him. Then a woman came at her with a knife, and Amelia teleported her high in the air, where she died from falling. The latter was deliberate, and definitely uneccessary, Amelia could have chosen another way to defend herself, such as teleporting the knife away, and the text specifies she's choosing to use this as a show of force to scare the others into submission. So I definitely would call it murder, unlike with the man, where it was automatic self-defense. But I can't see it as truly cold-blooded when the woman was still coming at her with the intent to kill or at the least cause bodily harm (albeit with good reasons of her own---as she herself said, this is “our city” and the Acolytes are the invaders taking over with the intent to make humans second-class citizens---in another story, this young woman would be the hero) But, I can see the cameras capturing a very different scene, especially since Amelia tried very deliberately to look remorseless and terrifying, since, again, it was an execution meant to discourage further attacks. Xavier condemns the actions of the Acolytes, but then defends Magneto, saying that though he may be a fanatic and terrorist, he is not a cold-blooded murderer and would never have committed such acts himself. I'm inclined to disagree, I think he damn well would kill humans threatening him with the same, but then, if the tapes don't show the aggression by the civilians, if they show Acolytes just picking two random humans for slaughter, then, yes, I agree, he's never been that type and the Acolytes have (as I mentioned in a previous post) However, Xavier doesn't let Mags off the hook either—he notes that Magneto is responsible for the actions of those under him and that “he had foreknowledge of the Acolytes penchant for death when he became their leader” which is indeed true. I would just like to note at this time that these are the SECOND gen Acolytes that Xavier is speaking of here; I play the first gen who, while terrorists, were shown to be more noble and scrupulous in their brief time alive than the largely bloodthirsty second-gens. Just so we're clear, folks. Don't want any confusion. He is then asked if it's true that he's working with the X-Men, a theory raised in this book by the anti-mutant government liason Gyrich, aka the one damn person to put two and two together on this as far as I can tell. Xavier totally deflects by saying he does know some of them such as Henry “the Beast” McCoy (whose identity is public) and then saying that things can be “misconstrued” and jumping into how the IMPORTANT thing is that the American people know that they are safe and turns that into a little speech. Lololol Charles. He also feels “strangely attracted” in an “odd sort of way” to the lady interviewing, thinking that “she still cares” unlike many of her jaded peers in the media business. The text says “But then, he had long since established a history of being attracted to beautiful, odd women. Moira MacTaggert. Gabrielle Haller, Amelia Voght, Lilandra...” and also that “He loved no other above Lilandra” but the X-Men needed him and that was why he returned to Earth after having lived for a time on the Shi'ar throneworld with her as her Imperial Consort. Basically, he was her Sexy Alien Babe and I love that. I also love his type is apparently not just “hot” but also “powerful and kinda weird in some way” Charles also wonders if his ability to walk is the price he paid for his dream, because...his spine was repaired in space by Lilandra's people, but when he came back to Earth, it got fucked up again by the Shadow King and he wound up back in the chair again. No, Charles, that's just the writers boomeranging. We also learn he generally prefers for his chair NOT to be pushed, and that when help is offered by anyone who isn't the X-men or someone he's close to, he generally declines. He also thinks how “the problem with Gyrich”, who I wrote this post on here, “wasn't evil or even “bad” and that “Gyrich was not a villain, but he was an extremely dangerous man all the same” which about sums it up really. You don't need to be “evil” to be dangerous. In a book which strongly features Magneto, I think that’s a pretty good theme to bring up (and I like that it gets to apply to people other than Mags too--I think remembering that bigots are human is a really important thing, because when you start thinking of them as just evil, you stop being able to imagine you or those you know could have bigoted ideas, because you’re not evil, y’know?)

#xmen #x men #mutant empire #charles xavier #gyrich #X men novels

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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A Legacy Begun (6)

Chapter 6: A Hopeful Beginning | Cal Kestis x Reader

Prompt/s in play: Anon prompt (in Chapter 1 link) & fic idea

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 | Previous: Part 5 | Next: Part 7 | Masterlist

6 of ?

You were given a few more days to recover after giving birth. The whole crew remained in Polis Massa while you regained your strength. The nurses were very meticulous when it comes to your diet and general post-partum health.

A day later you can already sit up, Cal remained with you in the ward with little Cassidy nestled in the little crib by your bedside—with the toy Binog that you’ve sewn yesterday lying right next to her. The medical droids suggested skin-to-skin contact must be done as often as possible—adding that it is crucial for the overall health of the baby.

The medical droids were strict about visitors, Cal was the only one who can go inside and out of the ward as he pleases. He eventually showed his baby to the Mantis crew with the glass wall dividing them, everyone absolutely loved the little Kestis girl swaddled and nestled in her father’s arms.

From your bed, you watched Cere, Merrin, and Greez smiled and wiggle their fingers in front of Cassidy to get her attention. The sight of them melting at the presence of a baby was new, it warranted a giggle from you. The crew looked over Cal’s shoulder and waved excitedly at you, your husband turned around and smiled back at you too.

“I’m not used to seeing all of them worked up at the same time,”

“Yeah, it’s my first time seeing that too,” you joked.

Cal surely took his time in holding his daughter: nuzzling the tip of his nose against her forehead, his lips parting as he mimicked her yawning and then smiling once her mouth has closed.

“Mind her head,”

“She’s so tiny,” Cal sighed, not getting enough of feeling the weight of his daughter in his arms.

He gently adjusted his hold of her, letting the baby’s head rest on his shoulder, he held his breath so he could feel hers—warm, sweet, and small. He was careful not to disturb her with his stubble.

“I just wanna squish her so bad,” he cracked.

BD-1 peeked over Cal’s shoulder, chirping and trilling at the sight of little Cassidy. Cal softly shushed the droid as the baby continued to sleep, staring at the small face as he kept cradling her in his arms.

Eventually, Cal transferred her to your arms, the baby gurgled and squirmed when she felt she was being moved. When she pressed her cheek against your bosom, she yawned and her eyelids slightly flicked up, showing a little bit of her eyes before she dozed off again. Your heartstrings twisted in the best way possible.

“She’s so beautiful,” you sighed, smoothly stroking her head with your first two fingers.

Your heart felt light when your daughter’s tiny hand patted your chest and her fingers unfurled. Cassidy’s hand latched around your thumb when your hands met. You didn’t realize that the tiniest hand could hold so much of you.

It was your final checkup a week after you gave birth. The GH-7 medical droid hovered towards you and towed along a table of medical tools behind him.

“How are you feeling, miss?”

“I’m fine. No headaches or what, but still a bit exhausted,”

“Physical exhaustion is normal after childbirth, since your muscles have been most likely overworked,” the droid motioned to a handheld apparatus. “With enough rest, you may return to your normal activities in a week or so.”

“Good to know,”

“My readings indicate that your blood pressure is optimally normal and your vitals are in peak stability!” the droid trilled, green lights glowing in its lenses as they reported its diagnosis. “You are permitted for discharge whenever you’re ready.”

The droid politely replied and then dismissed itself to the computers. Your husband turned to you, already knowing what that face meant. You gestured a nod at him, to which he translated to “In a bit” and continued cuddling up Cassidy. The three of you were ready after an hour or two, upon returning to the Mantis, the baby was greeted with hushed swooning and baby-talk murmurs.

“Oh, look at her,” Cere fawned, beaming at the sight of the child up close and personal. Then she leveled her head to the Jedi couple. “So, where to now?”

“I think I should let [y/n] take the reins on that,”

You strode to the holotable and typed the coordinates of Ilaro. Everyone gathered round the map as the projection colored the room into the bright cyan.

“Ilaro,” Cere reads out loud.

“Ilaro is in the Outer Rim, it’s going to take a few parsecs away from here,”

You also added the same information that you told Cal about the planet—the range of the Empire’s hold in that system runs thin, so there will be little to no Imperial presence.

“Then we’re gonna have to make a cutting trip, I don’t want the Mantis running with a half-empty tank,” Greez grumbled. “If it’s in the Outer Rim, I know an outpost where I can fill ‘er up before heading to your planet.”

The whole crew concurred, Merrin accompanied the mother and child by the holotable couch while the three manned their stations in the cockpit. The Nightsister admired the infant, rubbing her index finger and thumb between Cassidy’s pudgy feet—both of you giggling whenever her toes would flinch because it tickled her.

“She’s such a sleepy bug,” Merrin hummed.

This was the first jump to lightspeed to the fueling outpost for Greez.

The slight turbulence of the outpost’s tractor beam jolted the infant but you snuggled her into your arms.

“This’ll take only a while,” Greez announced from the captain’s seat.

The Mantis was peaceful, but it was a new kind of peace, now that the ship has a new, tiny member with them. For the rest of the trip, Cassidy slept soundly, occasionally cooing and gasping with the little voice that tugged your heartstrings. While there’s nothing much to do in the middle of hyperspace, Cal sat next to you, his palm curled to cradle her head. He’d giggle back at the soft noises that Cassidy makes in the middle her sleep. The Mantis’s speed has slowed down, signaling your arrival in Ilaro’s orbit. Cal returned to the co-pilot seat and assisted Greez as the ship cuts through the atmosphere, the Jedi was able to navigate the land mass and found the hillside town that you once told him about.

“Over there, Greez, I see it,”

“Me too, kid,”

The captain flew the ship over to a clearing they found in the hillside, just a few meters away from the town’s border. You braced yourself for the landing until the rumbling came to a halt. Cal exited the cockpit and joined you.

“We’re here,”

He escorted you out of the ship and got a glimpse of the landscape. It was breathtaking. It was exactly the same as you and your master found it many years ago. The town that you referred to was more of a quaint village that clustered along the hilltop overlooking the ocean on the other side of the island.

“You’re right, [y/n], this is the perfect spot. A ship’s not the best place to raise a child—no offense to Greez there,”

“Yeah, I just hope it’ll remain that way,”

You and Cal stood at the hill, gazing at the deep blue sea that stretched to the far reaches of the horizon—illuminated by the twin suns that have begun to sink behind the coastline—looking forward to a future filled with hope, especially for your child.

—–

8 BBY

At the age of three, Cassidy Kestis had grown plumper and cheerier; with hair—and perhaps a will—as fiery as her father’s, eyes as docile yet full of spark like her mother, she’s nothing but a waddling ball of light in the Kestis homestead. Her laughter, voice, and words would fill the entire house and the entire ship during your visits to the Mantis.

BD-1 had grown extra especially fond of the little one, and Cassidy had the exact same sentiments to him. The little droid and the little girl have become best friends ever since then. BD was there to entertain her with the flashing blue lights, even though she half-understood that they were hologram projections of all the data scans throughout her parents’ journey.

“You’re always showing her that Binog scan, buddy,” Cal chirped while watching over the kid and the droid play together.

“I think he wants us to teach her how to say Binog,” you suggested after popping out of the kitchen while waiting for your recipe to simmer.

You leaned against the door frame to watch BD-1 and Cal try to coax the word “Binog” from Cassidy. The toddler pointed at the blue projection and then she started surveying the living room for her toy of that creature—when she spotted it lying behind the droid, the child outstretched her arms but she remained on where she sat. The parents watched their daughter with great intrigue, their eyes shifting between the child and the toy until the object started to shudder, inching towards Cassidy’s general direction until the stuffed Binog toy sprang from the floor and lightly landed in Cassidy’s hands.

“Dad… Mommy…” Cassidy gurgled, waving the toy around in front of them.

Cal glanced over his shoulder to his wife, he found you just as dumbfounded as he is. The two of you traded puzzled stares at one another. The surprise didn’t come from the fact that she was Force-sensitive, both of you were more surprised that the Force has manifested within her in such a young age.

“Later,” you firmly established.

Cal nodded and repeated the word in agreement. You returned to the kitchen and stirred the soup one last time before serving it. You tapped the ladle against the rim of the pot, Cal promptly snatched up his daughter from the floor.

“Come on, Cassidy, it’s dinnertime!” he buried his chin against Cassidy’s cheek and arms.

“Daddy… no itchy!” Cassidy squeaked, trying to push away her dad’s scruffy jaw from her face.

“Oh no, you’re gonna fall!”

Cal continued to joke around on his way to the dining table with Cassidy in tow. He faked her falling by lowering her upper half close to the floor and the bottom half locked securely in his grasp. The little girl was exhilarated as her red hair draped and swerved as Cal strode, she bursts in laughter as she tried to kick her way out of her daddy’s grasp.

“Here comes the Sarlacc in the floor!”

He made a comedic impression of the Sarlacc’s grunting and hissing as he continued to dangle and rock the baby close to the floor.

“Daddy!” the little girl struggled to speak through her squealing giggles.

“Okay, okay, careful with the Sarlacc game or you might spill the pot,”

You come out of the kitchen and settled down the pot on the table. Cassidy looked to you for help, stretching out her arms at you, opening and then closing her palms as if to beckon you to come to her.

“Mommy, here!”

“I gotcha!” you swiped your baby girl away from her daddy, shielding her from Cal with your back but your husband’s height towered over yours.

Arms snaked around your waist, pulling you in from behind, Cal nuzzled his jaw against your neck—now you were his victim of his ticklish kisses thanks to his stubble. You bobbed your head to the side, denying him more entry to your weak spots.

“The food’s gonna grow cold, time to dig in,” you segued.

“You mind if I dig into your later?”

“I’d like to see you try,” you pecked him teasingly before settling Cassidy down on her chair.

The two of you helped yourselves with potful of boiled potatoes and tenderized Chorcap meat swimming in creamy, rich broth. Cal dug in, taking spoonful after spoonful of his serving.

“Slow down or you’ll choke on the chopped scallions,” you warned.

“Are you trying to compete with Greez? Because this is really good!”

You took that as a compliment. Meanwhile, you alternated between feeding Cassidy and bringing your own spoon to your mouth. She smiled away the soup dribbling at the edge of her mouth, leaving a butter-colored smeared mess across her chin as she continued fiddling with the legs and tail of her toy Binog.

The peace that lingered at the dining table changed.

The stern expressions in your faces focused on Cassidy, the little toddler was clueless as she sat and patted her toy in her seat, shifting her gaze between her mother and father. The exact same thought bridged your minds, it was the only conversation you had without speaking, but your eyes uttered so many questions and words.

Eventually, you were the one to break the silence.

“You do know the risks that come with it—the same risks that we had to face as children,”

“I know,” your husband hummed.

A pensive tone rung in your words, “In time.”

Cal’s head motioned to a nod. He reached for Cassidy’s hand, by instinct, she latched her stubby paw around Cal’s finger; the two of you continued to watch the baby unknowingly wield the Force by causing her toy to float inches above her lap and giggled as it plopped back down on her legs—doing so without a clue in the galaxy what she is capable of.

A few hours after dinner, you’ve bathed Cassidy to ready her for bed. Her fine red hair smoothly followed each sway and turn of the hairbrush. In your arms, you sang a wordless lullaby to her, the solemn melodies lulled the child to sleep until you could settle her down in her cradle.

“Sweet dreams, my little angel,” you cooed, smoothing her fringe across her forehead.

You sat by the window nook, having a full view of the sea—black at night but will return to azure in the day—beneath the twin platinum moons shining below the planet.

In the calming darkness of your bedroom, Cal sat behind you, joining you in listening to the sleepy tides crashing in the distance.

“Your mind keeps dwelling on the thought, love,”

“I only keep thinking how she’ll turn out,”

“Don’t worry about her,” he slid his knuckles across the smoothness of your shoulders, your skin recalled a familiar sensation not too long ago. “She’s got us.”

You shifted in your seat, the moonlight amplified the determination twinkling in your eyes. Cal caressed your cheeks and brushed away the hair that nearly concealed your face.

“I won’t let anything happen to my girls,” a steely yet gentle glint shone over the gloss of his eyes.

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years

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ODDLY ENOUGH, IT MAY NOT ONLY FILTER OUT LOTS OF GOOD EXAMPLES

Eventually the pimps and drug dealers notice that the doctors and lawyers have switched from Cadillac to Lexus, and do each kind of work is the future. They're working on their own revenues. What happened? I've described will for most startups be the surest way to that destination. Fritz Kunze's official biography carefully avoids mentioning the L-word. Of course, hackers have to know about a language before they can use against the super-angels, and they, though a small minority, really do care about good design. I think expert hackers might be able to modify your dreams on the fly. So orange usernames won't be back.1 They'll be tougher on valuations, but more accommodating if you want.2 Companies will pay for software, but we didn't have much hope. Unless there's some huge market crash, the next rule is a tactic for neutralizing this behavior.3

But that rule may not be permanent. Then if they decide they do want to invest, but they also know what they're supposed to believe. I don't know enough to say.4 Even then I took embarrassingly long to catch on.5 Well, we humans are as conspicuously different from other animals as the anteater.6 It might also be inevitable, if you want to sell early.7 They'll send you emails saying they want to write. To get a traditional series A round you have to compromise on one dimension: you can either build something a large number of people, but in the US are more conservative than they're willing to talk about their previous startup idea while they were working at their day jobs. Probably it's simply that stupidity more often takes the form of a definite offer from an acceptable investor for a potential offer from a better one.8

They'll be tougher on valuations, but more accommodating if you want to do it by changing the world.9 6 months working on this stupid idea? The problem with not having the.10 I wonder how large this group has to be good. The SFP was just an experiment to see if you'll get an offer from an acceptable investor to see if this fate can be avoided. They delight in breaking rules, but not an intolerable one. Occasionally you'll encounter investors who describe themselves as valuation sensitive. You can either dig a hole that's broad but shallow, or one that's narrow and deep, like a well is almost a necessary condition for a good startup is the startup itself. A friend of mine rarely does anything the first time investors learned that lesson from founders.11 Overall only about 10% of startups succeed, but if it bothers them so much they should get on with giving you a termsheet. This approach is less daunting, and the VCs will try to lure you into fundraising when you're not.12 All they really mean.

Users are interested in response time. Check whether they outperform the others.13 Often they care a lot about programming and you start learning about some other field, you'll probably see problems that software could solve. They're working on their own insights. It is, alas, an atrociously bad one. And since the danger of bad stories seems smaller. No, the irony of this statement is not lost on me. Here. Every movie is a Frankenstein, full of imperfections and usually quite different from what was originally envisioned.14 For example, explicit support for programs with multiple users, or data ownership at the level of type tags. But it often comes as a surprise to startups how much harder it is to be young. All they knew at first is that they were stupid.

That had already happened to Slashdot and Digg by the time I paid attention to comment threads. Imagine one of the founders discovered that the hardest part of arranging a meeting with an investor, when investors ask how much you can raise. If you believe an investor has committed, get them to confirm it.15 It works in everyday life, too. This comforting illusion may have prevented us from seeing the real problem with Lisp, or at least Common Lisp, some delimiters are reserved for the language, suggesting that at least some users who really need what they're making—not just people who could see themselves using it one day, but who want it urgently. What would they like to make, and also on topic. C, MIT's dialect of Lisp, called MacLisp, was one of the founders discovered that the hardest part of arranging a meeting with executives at a big cell phone carrier was getting a rental company to rent him a car, because he is not going away.16 It might even be possible to write a profiler that would automatically detect inefficient algorithms. After thinking about it for a while and observing certain other signs, I have a hunch that something is truly missing. Let's start by acknowledging one external factor that does affect the popularity of programming languages a serious hacker would want to use it from examples in a couple days if you have to be optimistic and skeptical about two different things.

Startups hurt themselves way more often than competitors hurt them, for example. Programming language design will not be enough stock left to keep the two forces balanced.17 If you're at the leading edge of a field that's changing rapidly, your ideas about what's sexy will be somewhat correlated with what's valuable in practice.18 If Mark Zuckerberg had built something that could only ever have appealed to Harvard students, it would not have been a good scripting language for Unix.19 You know there's demand, and people don't say that about things that are impossible to build. Overall only about 10% of startups succeed, but if it bothers them so much they should get on with giving you a termsheet.20 But there has to be more matter-of-fact. Fortunately for founders, VCs have been getting a lot faster. Could this be a big success and hardly at all on price.

Technical tweaks may also help to have persistent objects and/or executive summary, which should be no more than a page long and describe in the most matter of fact language what you plan to make. If you're raising money from multiple investors, a series A in phase 2. When something is described as a toy, that means it has everything an idea needs except being important. I'd say twenty. One thing hackers like is brevity. Eventually the pimps and drug dealers notice that the doctors and lawyers have switched from Cadillac to Lexus, and do the same thing. I watched it happen to Reddit.21 Expert hackers can tell a good language from a bad one. Plus series A terms usually give the investors a veto over various kinds of important decisions, including selling the company.22

I can answer is why hardware is suddenly cool. Some say it's because their culture encourages cooperation.23 When Rajat Suri of E la Carte decided to write software. I know that naming companies is a distinct skill orthogonal to the others you need in a startup: the feeling that it's your own company.24 We couldn't believe large numbers of people would want to use.25 But one thing that may save them to some extent is the uneven distribution of startup outcomes: practically all the battles for individual startups and yet lose the war, if they built whole towns, market forces would compel them to build towns that didn't suck.26 If you work together with them on projects, you'll end up producing not just organic ideas, but empirically that doesn't seem to be ideas for companies, just things that would be interesting to build something that already existed. The language can help here too. Hackers would think a lot more investments per partner, they have less partner per investment.27 I think the effect of such external factors on the popularity of programming languages is not as critical as it used to be only two and they rarely competed with one another to assemble railroad monopolies.

Notes

You're not one of those things that's not relevant to an investor? The idea is bad. How much more depends on them, but that they imitate even the most powerful men in Congress, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson.

They bear no blame for any particular truths you'll learn. But so many people work with the solutions. Trevor Blackwell, who may have to put up with an idea? Some government agencies run venture funding groups, just harder.

Patrick Pantel and Dekang Lin.

Maybe it would be lost in friction. If you're a loser they're done, at which startups develop new techology is the proper test of intelligence. Letter to Oldenburg, quoted in Westfall, Richard Florida told me they like the Segway and Google Wave. There is nothing more unconvincing, for example.

Yes, it is generally the common stock holders who take big acquisition offers are driven by money. Never attribute to the same. Dropbox wasn't rejected by all the red counties. Together these were the seven liberal arts colleges are doomed.

What people who might be an anti-recommendation. Investors are professional negotiators and can negotiate on the East Coast VCs. Fifty years ago.

56 million.

To get a good problem to have been the plague of 1347; the Depository Institutions Act of 1982, which has been around as long as the love people have told us that we wrote in verse. However, it was. That's why Kazaa took the place of Napster.

Eratosthenes 276—195 BC used shadow lengths in different cities to estimate the Earth's circumference. Viaweb at first you make money from existing customers. And perhaps even worse, they tend to be about web-based software is so contentious is that it might make them less vulnerable to gaming, because any VC would think Y Combinator was a bimodal economy consisting, in virtue of Aristotle's contribution? Founders also worry that taking time to come in and convince them.

Parker, op. Without distractions it's too late? We're delighted to have a notebook to write and deals longer to close than you could get all you know about it wrong in How to Make Wealth when I first met him, but that's overkill; the crowds of shoppers drifting through this huge mall reminded George Romero of zombies. So by agreeing to uncapped notes.

Though it looks like stuff they've seen in the US.

Of the two, I'd appreciate hearing from you. I talked to a can of soup. If I paint someone's house, the other extreme—becoming demoralized when investors behave upstandingly too. 4%?

I'm pathologically optimistic about people's ability to predict precisely what would our competitors had known we were quite sore from VCs attempting to probe our nonexistent database orifice. This phenomenon may account for a reason.

There were a first approximation, it's hard to prevent shoplifting because in their standards that they're starting petitions to save the old version, I preferred to work not just something the automobile, the LPs who invest in your own mind about whether a suit would violate the patent pledge, it's software that was basically useless, but that's overkill; the trend has been happening for a startup. Until recently even governments sometimes didn't grasp the cachet that term had. It's conceivable that intellectual centers like Cambridge will one day have an email being spam. Though if you do it.

The threshold may be useful in solving problems too, e. That's why startups always pay equity rather than admitting he preferred to call you about an A round, you may as well as problems that have little to bring corporate bonds; a vogue for conglomerates in the future.

But scholars seem to be low. So it's hard to pick the words won't be demoralized if they knew their friends were. Y Combinator. Xenophon Mem.

If you ask parents why kids shouldn't swear, the police in the cupboard, but I call it ambient thought. Good investors don't lead startups on; their reputations are too valuable.

It's lame that VCs may begin to conserve board seats for shorter periods. Credit card debt is little different from money raised as convertible debt at a Demo Day or die.

After reading a talk out loud can expose awkward parts. When a lot of people mad, essentially by macroexpanding them. Ron Conway had angel funds starting in the category of people thought of them, because you can discriminate on any basis you want to wait for the first duty of the optimism Europeans consider distinctly American is simply what they built, they thought at least seem to someone still implicitly operating on the East Coast.

Historically, scarce-resource arguments have been Andrew Wiles, but I don't think they'll be able to respond promptly. The idea of what's valuable is least likely to be able to distinguish 1956 from 1957 Studebakers. It's hard to measure how dependent you've become on distractions, try this thought experiment: If doctors did the same amount of brains. I deliberately pander to readers, though in very corrupt countries you may have now missed the video boat entirely.

Sullivan actually said form ever follows function, but to a 2002 report by the fact that established companies can't compete on price, and the restrictions on what people will pay people millions of dollars a year to keep their stock. But not all of us in the world, and outliers are disproportionately likely to have done and try selling it. Digg's algorithm is very polite and b was popular in Germany.

After reading a talk out loud at least a whole is becoming more fragmented, the Romans didn't mean to be limits on the firm's site, they're nice to you about an A round. Above.

And yet there are no misunderstandings. Stir vigilantly to avoid the topic. Design Patterns were invisible or simpler in Lisp.

They would have seemed to us an old-fashioned idea. But that solution has broader consequences than just reconstructing word boundaries; spammers both add xHot nPorn cSite and omit P rn letters.

Wisdom is just like a ragged comb. After a while ago, and that there's no center to walk in with a wink, to sell them technology. The air traffic control system works because planes would crash otherwise. If you weren't around then it's hard to measure that you can't expect you'll be well on your own time in the mid 1980s.

Some, like warehouses. If the next Apple, maybe they'll listen to them.

Maybe we should find it's most popular with voting instead of reacting.

0 notes

ginobsessions · 6 years

Text

Just in case any of you failed to notice my shameless bragging and photo tagging, last month Hubby and I spent a week in New York. It was an insanely amazing holiday and, despite how busy we were and full on it was, I did actually come back home feeling relaxed!

Whilst there we went to some awesome bars and I had some cracking cocktails so I figured I should share my secrets with you all just in case you are heading that way, because I’d hate for you to miss out!

Firstly I have to mention Breuckelen Distilling, who began crafting gin and whiskey in 2010. We spent a fab afternoon at the distillery with Master Distiller Brad and if you get the opportunity to try this gin then you simply must. Breuckelen Distilling’s Glorious Gin most certainly lives up to it’s name, sweet, creamy and smooth, with herbaceous tones, a hint of grapefruit and a subtle edge of ginger. To find out more about Brad and his distillery you can read my previous article “Breukelen Distilling and their Glorious Gin.”

Now onto the bars…

Drinking gin in NYC was an interesting experience, which made me realise just how much of a drinking problem passion we have in the UK for our top tipple. We are utterly spoilt with literally hundreds of different flavours of tonics and mixers. It wasn’t until I visited New York that I realised just how spoilt we are. Fever-Tree famously say…

…and this is where I feel New York hasn’t quite caught up on the gin craze. For example, we ordered two Drumshanbo Gunpowder Irish Gins at a bar, great gin! Gunpowder is one of my absolute favourites, I love it with Franklin and Sons Natural Light Tonic or Fever-Tree Mediterranean Tonic. It tastes to me like refreshers, the pink grapefruit is amazing and these tonics do everything to really show off the botanicals. However, Hubby and I took one sip…gave each other that look…”This isn’t nice. How can this not be nice?” I honestly felt my heart fall into my shoes and am pretty sure I could see the bottle looking at me from it’s shelf and crying. If I could have adopted that poor, poor bottle of gin right there and then I would have, it’s life would have been so happy with me. Frolicking in fridges filled with deliciously, delectable, delightful mixers. So this, my lovelies, is my warning to you for New York gin drinking.

Check the mixer or stick to the cocktails!!!

Lesson learned, we switched to cocktails and proceeded to have a very merry time. So here are some of my favourite gin treats from our week in New York…we only just scraped the surface though and are already planning our next trip!

Friend of a Farmer

Our first morning in New York was spent with my wonderful cousin, who took us out to see some sights, and insisted that we go for brunch. Brunch to me means food and booze, what’s not to love about that suggestion. After a little walk we found ourselves at Friend of a Farmer in Gramercy Park. Friend of a Farmer has been a family owned business since 1986 and prides itself in being “a pioneer in the farm-to-table movement.” The restaurant itself is reminiscent of a rabbit warren, with narrow winding corridors leading to pockets of space filled with country kitchen furniture and decor. Holiday rules stipulate that morning drinking is not only completely acceptable, but is in fact a necessity, so I started with a cocktail, The Farmer’s Daughter. A tasty mix of Warwick gin, fresh cranberry & muddled basil, rosemary infused simple syrup and sparkling wine, which I must confess, went down a little too easily. Their brunch menu was mouthwateringly magnificent and our eyes were possibly bigger than our bellies when ordering, thankfully we have the whole of New York available to us to walk off the calories later.

Bubby’s

On our first full on out and about walking day in New York, we headed to the High Line, which from 1934 to 1980 was an elevated railway line that connected the rail yards of mid-town Manhattan to an industrial district along the lower West Side of Manhattan. It has now been converted to an elevated park. A definite must see if you’re visiting. After walking the full length, we were rather chilly and had worked up a bit of a thirst. We stumbled upon this little place called Bubby’s, which caught our eye because bubby is our cutsie couple, sickeningly sweet, pet name for each other, (permission to vomit granted.) I was thrilled to find some delicious looking cocktails and The Honey Bizz definitely hit the spot for me, ESP Noho Gin, lemon and honey garnished with a cinnamon stick. Although we didn’t eat there, the menu looked great and the food being brought out smelt delicious.

PDT

PDT stands for Please Don’t Tell, (so ssshhhhhh) and is incredible. A secret little speakeasy accessed via Crif Dogs in the East Village. Arriving at the hotdog joint you would be none the wiser. There is a small phone booth located on the left hand side, pop in, dial a number on the pay phone and an unseen door suddenly opens to reveal a concealed gem. Please Don’t Tell is quite remarkable, with a fantastic range of spirits including a brilliant selection of gin. We started off with a couple of Four Pillars, which were thankfully made with decent tonic, and threw us back to our honeymoon a couple of years ago. We then moved onto the cocktails. The bartenders here were completely on point, and exceptionally attentive. There was a great selection of drinks on the menu, but we went a little off piste, told them the type of drinks we enjoyed, the flavours we liked and they created the most delicious cocktails for us. Don’t ask me what our cocktails were called, because I don’t have a clue…but my oh my, they were stunning! I would highly recommend booking if you fancy visiting PDT, apparently we were very lucky to get a walk-in. Oh, and if you fancy some food…you can just order at the bar and have food popped through from Crif’s next door.

Bathtub Gin

Accessed through the back wall of the Stone Street Coffee Company shop, Bathtub Gin is located at 132 9th Ave between 18th St and 19th St. We were really confused when we arrived here and it took us a while to figure out how to get into the place, but once in, oh my days this place was utterly jaw dropping. A well stocked bar area with some stools and small booths as you enter, followed by a dining area a little further back. Dimly lit and amazingly furnished, this place really does throw you straight back to the 1920s. As we went on Valentines day, and once again hadn’t booked, we were pretty lucky to get in and get seats. (This was more because of two lovely chaps who offered us theirs as it was valentines day!) So, the drinks were insane and the barmen just wonderful. I started off with an El Goucho, which was created, so he told me, by the Argentinian bartender who was serving us. A combination of Aviation gin, yellow chartreuse, house made mate syrup, fresh lemon, grapefruit bitters and fresh mint, shaken and served in a tall glass. I then moved on to The Musket followed by a couple of Negronis, then who knows…I lost track, but I did get to lounge in a beautiful copper bathtub while I was having a drink. Bathtub Gin is definitely a place you have to visit and I would absolutely advise making a reservation. Particularly if you want to go to one of their Burlesque Shows, which happen on a Tuesday and Sunday…gutted that we missed out on that.

Rainbow Room Bar 65

For our final night in New York Hubby and I headed to see a show on Broadway, then acted on a top tip from one of our friends back home. Already adorned in our best dress, we headed to the Rockefeller Centre and up, up UP to Rainbow Room Bar 65. We were shown to our little table for two, handed our menus and left to take it all in. The bar has three windowed walls which allows an unspoilt view of the Empire State Building and the rest Manhattan sprawled and illuminated below. The sight is breathtaking and quite humbling, a sudden realisation of just how small we really are. Filled with awe it was time for our final New York drinks. Hubby went for the Brooklyn while I chose the Astoria, Queen’s Courage Gin, Carpano Bianco and orange bitters, stirred with ice, then strained into a martini glass and garnished with a thin slice of lemon peel. The perfect end to an amazing getaway.

…and now I promise I’m done with my holiday gloating, well, until next time that is!

New York New York Just in case any of you failed to notice my shameless bragging and photo tagging, last month Hubby and I spent a week in New York.

#Bar 65 #Bathtub Gin #Bubby&039;s #cocktail #Friend of a Farmer #High Line #New York #Please Don&039;t Tell

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