#the mambo wizard

[mambo-by-a-mile]

🤜 (oh Mambo’s not affectionate? That’s a shame. Anyway- lmao)

'Hey!'

Mambo squirmed in the sender's grasp as his head was whisked off his head, purple tufts of fur exposed. Next thing he knew a fist was ruffling it in harsh circles.

'Knock it off, will ya?' Mambo complained to no avail, pathetically trying to pry the much stronger and larger hand than his own away. 'I just groomed this fur...last month!'

'And warn a guy before ya start roughin' up his skull, huh?'

Mambo continued to squirm helplessly in the sender's grasp.

[marinerainbow]

Hey! ^^ I hope you're well ^^

I have a Happily N'ever After though to share with you- but of course you don't have to answer ^^

So, I rewatched it last night (and, just- it gives so much joy XD ) and I think I heard Monk refer to Freida as 'a' evil stepmother.

... a.

Not 'the'.

And up until this point I'd been thinking of all the fairytale characters as immortal creatures going through the same story over and over and over again.

But now I'm thinking... maybe reincarnation? Maybe after their Happy Endings (or not so happy endings, for villains) and the last page is flipped closed- the entire board resets. The characters turn to dust or something and new ones (the same characters, just looking a little different. This could explain why fairytale characters are rarely described with more specific features. Just 'beautiful', 'blonde', 'dashing', 'ugly', etc.) start over again at 'Once Upon a Time'. This would explain why no one ever remembers what's already happened (Or *cough* the uprising).

Another interesting thought- imagine if fairytale characters new looks are entirely based on whoever in Our World is telling the story. It's how They imagine them, just with the basic set guidelines I mentioned before.

I dunno if this is anything, if you already realised this or not, but I wanted to share 😅😅😅

I didn't realize this!! This actually helps out a plothole in my own headcannons; if the king and queen passed the throne on to their son, the prince, (which, according to the fan-wiki, a deleted scene reveals that the prince's name was Humperdink. Can you imagine??), then where are they? Were they the original Cinderella and Prince Charming?

With that, I raise you; What if the Fairytale characters' lives depend on either how long they can live, which is why they can still age. Once they are old enough, like the king and queen, they pass on the mantel of their story role befire turning into dust?

Or, leaning more towards what you said, their lives last as long as whoever is telling the story holds their book. For example, a parent telling their child Fairytales for years and years, or a teacher sharing a Fairytale one day for class. And, as you said, each storyteller winds up creating the storybook characters as they envision them? So the Prince could be a dashing, blonde hunk for years and years. Then the next storyteller may make him into a twiggy, redheaded prince for a week or so, etc.

But in that case, what about nobodies like Ricky? Or my OC Lizzie? Do THEY turn to dust?? Are they just figmants of the storytellers imagination to spice up the story (like maybe whoever was telling the Cinderella story in the movie wondered someone else Ella could fall in love with?). Or are they truly immortal?? Does Rick know what's going on because he's served sooo many princes?? What do you think? If you'd like to add to this ^^

I really really REALLY love this observation!!! We have to explore it more!!!

On a more self indulgent note; Imagine that, once it's the wolves' time, their S/O is right there watching them turn to dust? Whether they were trying to prepare for it or not, their S/O clings onto them; begging whoever will listen (the wizard, some God that's higher than him, anybody) to give them just a little more time. They're not ready! Don't take their love away!! But the S/O can only watch as their wolf/wolves crumble to dust, right after they exchange one final kiss or reassurance that everything will be ok in the end.

Sure, their wolf will come back. But what if it's different?? What if he/they don't fall in love with them?? Will he/they even remember them?? Who knows, really?

[angelicguy]

mambo no 5

a little bit of demons with a knife

a little bit of warriors causing strife

a little bit of soldiers with their guns

a dark and grey wizard blocks the sun

[tashacee]

ALSO

Mask!Wild meets Aspect!Wild

Mask is so confused why this seven-foot-something lion man (with scarring a lot like his???) keeps hugging him and giving him stuff

Aspect takes one look at this version of himself and says "I call dibs on adopting him, screw you Time"

This ended up SO long but oh well

Aspects of a Mask

Wild hadn’t meant to cause trouble. The Temple was complete, the boss dead, and the treasure looted and divided between everyone’s bags. When he spied the two little statuettes at the side of the room, his only thought had been to straighten them where they stood on their little shelf. They were sweet little things, two identical brothers made of jade, and it would have been a shame to leave them sitting lopsided.

But of course, nothing was ever as simple as that. Wild straightened the figure on the right and all of a sudden there was flash of blinding light and a disjointed voice echoed through the boss chamber.

Wild didn’t catch all of what it said. Didn’t matter. The Chain got the gist of it. 

In a universe running parallel with theirs was another Chain, and the parallel hero to the one who had touched the statuette would be coming through to meet them. Something about meeting yourself to know yourself to -

It was a lot of mystical sounding mambo jumbo, but Wild was pretty sure thaat it was just whatever Wizard enchanted the statuettes way of messing with wayward explorers who picked them up.

Wild squeaked in horror and put the statuette down again, skittering backwards in alarm. It made no difference, though. The light had solidified and shifted to the middle of the room, hovering a few feet above the ground and growing in size, shifting into a portal.

Oh Hylia. What had he done? Wild gasped and found himself signing apologies, that he hadn’t meant to do anything, but his hands were shaking so much that it was hardly understandable. He was backing away and only stopped when he ran into Time, his oldest brother’s armour clatterng.

Time placed his hands gently on Wild’s shoulders, squeezing slightly.

“Hey.” he said softly. “Wild. It’ll be alright.”

Wild shook his head but still couldn’t speak. His mask felt unbearably tight on his face. The walls of the temple seemed to be pressing in. He had to get out, had to go somewhere with wide spaces and fresh air. He couldn’t be here. He didn’t want to meet himself from another timeline. Hylia only knew what he’d be like. Would he be the same as Wild? Would his face be-

Or would he be untouched? Would it be him, but the him who didn’t fail?

Wild shook his head and pulled out of Time’s grasp, backing away from the growing portal. Whatever was going to fall through it, he didn’t want to see. Wild had enough trouble dealing with himself at the best of times, having to face another of himself?

Absolutely not.

“Wild?” that was Twilight now.

Wild looked over and saw his brother looking at him in alarm. He was holding an arm out, inviting Wild to come to him if he wanted. His pelt looked warm and inviting, but the thought of being near someone right now was almost too much to handle.

Well, if Wild could say one thing about what happened next, it at least stopped him from having to make his mind up about what to do.

The light flashed. Something - someone? - yelped. Someone fell through the portal with the crash and the light vanished, leaving the Chain staring at what was lying on the ground before them.

It-

It did not look like Wild.

It was a massive, bestial creature, covered in fur and more cat than person. The left side of its body was coated with scars, and it wore a sarong about its waist and was covered in tattoos and jewellery that spoke of some sort of intelligence and culture.

The chain all reached for their swords, just in case, and the creature looked up. Its eyes were bright and blue as it looked around at them all. It lifted its hands.

“Warriors.” it signed. “I swear to Hylia if you shoot me again-”

Wait. What?

Was this - the creature recognised Warriors. It seemed to recognise them all, from how it looked around at them all with something akin to amusement. Wild peered through the crowd of his brothers as it stood, taking in the scars that laced its body. There were less than on his own body and face, but they were still familiar, and the placement of the craters on its chest-

Was this-

“Wild?” Twilight asked.

The creature seemed surprised at being addressed by the rancher, but nodded, giving him a thumbs up. “That’s me.” it - he - said. “I touched a weird statue thing and now i apparently get to hang out with you all for a week.”

What?

The Chain all relaxed and began to sheathe their swords, all moving forwards to greet their temporary new brother. Wild hung back, ducking into Twilight’s shadow.

“You-” Sky began to say and cleared his throat. “You recognised us?” he observed.

Other-Wild seemed fascinated by Sky, bending over to peer into his eyes. “You can see me!” he signed.

Sky frowned. “...yes?”

Other-Wild laughed, a strange, animal sound. “Neat! Yeah I recognised you. I know I look weird. My Chain don’t look like this, it’s just me. I tried on a magic outfit and got stuck in this body. We’re working on it. It’s a whole thing.” he shrugged, as if this was a perfectly normal thing to say. Then his eyes landed on Wind and Spirit and he yipped. “Two of you!” he signed.

Wind cackled. “Hell yeah, two of us! I’m Wind and he’s Spirit!”

Other-Wild blinked and then shrugged. “Sweet.” he said. “I want a picture.”

Then he looked around and his eyes landed on Wild.

There was no hiding any more. His brother all turned towards him, and while Twilight still stayed by his side, he felt horribly exposed. Other-Wild stepped towards him, rumbling curiously and - oh Hylia he had a tail! - tail waving slowly behind him.

“Nice mask!” he signed. “Fashion Queen!”

Beside him, Wild felt Twilight tense, but something inside him loosened at the words. He started to giggle.

“Fashion Queen!” he agreed, all nerves suddenly gone. 

It was a joke that he had never told anyone, not even Flora. Once at a stable someone had ridden past in the most ludicrous outfit that Wild had ever seen, brightly coloured mismatched silks and bells and jewels and glistening gold braid. It was an incredible, more than slightly ridiculous sight. Wild, along with everyone else, had openly stared as they passed. And then, after a moment of silence, a little girl who had been staying with her parents, exclaimed ‘A Fashion Queen!’

The whole stable had burst into laughter, and ever since then Wild had, whenever he tried something new on, thought about that moment. About ‘fashion queen’. It was silly, but it was fun. If this creature, if this person knew about that, then-

“You are me?” Wild asked incredulously.

The cat-man shrugged. “Guess so.” he tilted his head, big eyes flicking up and down Wild’s body, taking him in. Wild felt himself draw inwards, flushing under the scrutiny. 

Much as he found this new, cat-version of himself interesting, he couldn’t help but see his scars. They wrapped around a solid half of his body, and while they didn’t cover as much of him as they did Wild, while they didn’t destroy his face in the same way, it was still striking how confidently he bared them to the world.

This Wild wasn’t trying to hide his scars. He was bare chested and didn’t seem to care who saw them. Would he judge Wild for his mask, for his loose clothes? This was what he dreaded. He already had enough inner feelings about himself, the idea of another him condemning him-

The Other-Wild purred and closed the gap between them. “Can we get out of this temple? It’s stuffy in here.” his signs were light and conversational as he brushed his tail against Wild’s side and then draped it companionably around his waist. “You like to cook? I do, but my Chain are hopeless…”

The conversation went on like this, gentle and cheerful and undemanding. Wild found himself relaxing around his new brother-self, who was so unlike him but also so very very like him.

The week went by in a blink of an eye. Wild and Wild, to everyone’s surprise, most of all their own, spent hours together, chatting or cooking or even just curled up and dozing. They both had a habit of wandering off and no one had a clue where they were until Twilight stumbled into them, both in their underwear, shield surfing down the side of a very steep hill.

He backed away and never mentioned it to anyone.

Terrified as he had been to meet himself from another universe, now that he had gotten to know Other-Wild, Wild didn’t want to lose him. When the end of the week finally rolled around he clung to his brother-self, tearful as he bade him goodbye.

Other-Wild knelt before him to be eye level and pulled him into a tight hug.

“We will meet again.” he promised. “I’ll fight Hylia myself.”

Wild giggled wetly. From what he’d learned of his other self this past week, he believed it.

Other-Wild glanced around and then leaned in so that no one else could see what he said. “You can trust them.” he said, gesturing to the chain. “Trust me. They all love you. They’ll never judge you. I promise.”

Wild had tearfully showed him his face a few days ago, but he hadn’t received any of the censure that he had expected. Instead Other-Wild had given him only love and understanding, and had shown him a selection of his own most gruesome scars, including the stump of his missing arm.

Wild hugged him again, burying his head into his fur. Other-Wild rumbled and held him a moment more, and then the portal appeared behind him. He straightened, purred once more as he waved to the Chain, and was gone.

Beneath his mask, Wild felt himself smile. It may have only been a week, but something fundamental felt changed inside of him. He felt a little happier, a little more confident.

Wild turned and jogged over to Twilight’s side, taking his brother’s hand and burying himself into his side.

Somehow, he felt, everything would be alright.

[not-wikied-sexyperson-brawl]

Mambo

Source: Happily N'Ever After (Animated Movie Series)

Explanation from Submitter: Mischievous/Chaoslord. Funny. Stands up for his friends, voiced by Andy Dick in the first movie and Jim Sullivan in the second movie. Brave. Wise cracking, encouraging other characters to follow their dreams . Friendly, a dreamer, well dressed with a wizard’s hat.

Polls:

vs Renfield (lost)

[tomionefinds]

hi! do you have any fics where its takes place during an apocalypse like twd kinda apocalypse?

Hey Anon, Not sure if you just sent in another similar ask about specifically Zombie Apocalypse AUs; in any case gonna kind of string these two together.

I'll answer this one with some post-apocalyptic/dystopian setting fics, and then list some specific zombie ones on the other ask. So keep eyes peeled if that wasn't you.

Shout out to Untenable by saintcorvus; that's actually a gift to me from an exchange! -JD

Untenable by saintcorvus T+ | One Shot | 3k Prompt: Sci-fi/Dystopian AU where Tom and Hermione lead two different tribes. Heavily inspired by a lot of Dystopian books that I've read. Some direct usage of themes from The 100.

the price of water by peppershark E/Ma | WIP | 14k After a mishap in the Room of Hidden Things, Hermione finds herself in a barren, post-apocalyptic future where witches are all but extinct. The rare females are prized by desert traders and cloistered under the paternalistic care of the few men evolved for ultimate power. One omega has heard about a special little alpha witch in possession of a power lost to wizarding-kind for centuries. Tom Riddle is going to find her, and claim her. If she won’t give up her secrets, he’ll just have to fuck them out of her.

my (edge) lord by tomioness T+ | WIP | 7k After a fatal virus killed every person older than 21, the world is thrown into absolute chaos. Children and teenagers can only survive by coming together. Gangs of older survivors terrorize them by taking all reserves under control. Hermione, Head of the Mudbloods, puts all her efforts into taking care of her tribe. But everything seems at risk when the self proclaimed Lord of the Death Eater gang takes an interest in her and uses her love for her community to bend her to his will.

A Clockwork Black by ChloeGevaux E/Ma | WIP | 19k No man can describe it to you until you've felt it for yourself. The cry in the dark; the mortal call for meaning - oh, God, please give us some meaning - in this short, sharp life. Does he answer? That absentee father figure... does he answer your prayers? When you hear the crunch of gravel outside as the car pulls up, when you frown in confusion because - wait, but it's too soon for my husband to be home from work - and when you look up, stunned, as the doorbell rings just as the front door itself is kicked in and kicked open- No. The only one who will answer your prayers is me. And then you'll wish you'd never said them. Tomione. 'A Clockwork Orange' inspired AU.

The Heir From District 2 by PenelopeGrace Series: Tomione Hunger Games AU [1] E/Ma | Complete | 16k They thought he would win. Hunger Games AU + District 2!Tom Riddle + District 12!Hermione Granger

Ad Infinitum by Speechwriter T | WIP | 74k As he forges inexorably toward the end of time, he may come to wonder if this is a world worth ruling. Science fantasy.

Behind Death by elude T | WIP | 2k post-apocalypse world In a last ditch attempt to right the wrong, Hermione goes back into the past. But, time refuses to be tamed. Tom/Hermione

Black Mambo by Nekositting M | One Shot | 6k She sprung from where her legs had been rooted on the floor, running to the door at the end of the room. She pounded on its surface, blood rushing up to her ears. The door refused to move. “Open the god damn door,” she shouted, hysteria making her words crack at the end, but still, the guard outside refused to open the door for her. Was he even still out there? “They won’t come for you, you know.”

Entropy by Mechanical_Orange M | WIP | 21k There are holes in the universe and holes in their hearts, but time can heal all wounds. In 1998 Hermione begins her seventh year at Hogwarts. In 1944, Tom Riddle does the same.

Madam Granger by cherry_cup E/Ma | WIP | 45k When Hermione Granger secures the position of librarian at Hogwarts, she becomes the object of fascination for a particular Dark Lord in the making. AU. 1940s (no time-traveling)

Oceanfront View (It’s me and You) by ChaoticBabe T+ | One Shot | 1k This wasn’t how things were meant to go, the world fell before they even found there feet.

Orphea by SallyJAvery M | WIP | 48k "You could not believe I was more than your echo." A spell to sing the dead to life, when the living are lost. Tomione, post-war, dystopian AU.

The Plague by QueenRuby E/Ma | WIP | 17k A plague has hit the wizarding world and the greatest minds alive must get together to find a cure before all is lost. AU/AR

Romanticism by mysterymin M | WIP | 8k In a dystopian world where Voldemort has won the battle of Hogwarts, the purebloods have decided to weed out the weakest of the mudbloods.

Types of Iron by knittedcoffee M | WIP | 1k A magic and sci-fi blend AU. A magical and medieval world is connected to a technologically advanced one run by robots, but they do not coexist under the reign of Lord Voldemort. Warnings: violence, death, language, involuntary self-harm. "As technology advances in complexity and scope, fear becomes more primitive" Don DeLillo. Part 1/?

we'll sing in the sunshine by flosculous M | WIP | 4k Dystopia AU. She was pushed into her cell with only one thought in her mind. Obedience, there's no such thing as love. Was he born normal he would have felt something similar to empathy now, or maybe his chest would convulse with sympathy (...) but Tom was anything but normal. Or Hermione is one of the Hollows and Tom is High General of Grindelwald's Followers.

A Fall Through Time by orphan_account E/Ma | Abandoned | 89k A/U Tomione In a present day dystopian society, muggles and muggleborns are enslaved to their pureblood masters who greedily drain the earth of it's resources resulting in famines and plagues. Hermione, known to her master Draco as Sandy, must do what she does best-survive and adapt. Until that is, she is given an opportunity to go back to when it all started and rewrite history. ~Incomplete~Abandoned~Orphaned~If you are inspired to write something for this story or pick up where I left off--feel free~

[nola-lee]

(WARNING: The following content contains explicit descriptions of violence, torture, and death. Please read with caution!)

[oh mother, tell your children not to do what I have done;  spend your lives in sin & misery in the house of the rising sun]

@outterridge @aurormax @katiethxrne

Under any other circumstances wherein Dona’s safety was in question, Lee would have stuck by her side like spice on rice. But as it was, mambo had him by the throat against a wall in her quarters.

“You will stick to your instructions this time, Boy…” Taitu commanded in harsh Haitian Creole. She squeezed Lee’s neck, her sharp nails leaving marks on his dark skin. He could hear commotion coming from outside Taitu’s closed door. “…do not let your foolish need to protect the Lost Daughter interfere with our carefully wrought plans again. You have your orders. You will not stray. Everything that is happening is part of a higher directive that is under my control. Disappoint me again, and it will cost you. And know that I will be watching.”

And just when Lee thought he was on the verge of passing out, the Queen disappeared amidst a black cloud of smoke. Lee slumped a half-foot down the wall, rasping for breath. He could hear Dona calling for him, and her voice is the only thing that gave him strength to push himself up and into the chaos of the raid.

Issac was readying her office, an attempt to give their lackey some level of competence in the more delicate aspects of being in I&S. Thus Athena Howell was behind the vanguard that made yet another push into the darker dealings of the wizarding underworld. There were signals the bulk of the fight was completed from her aurors, all hard faced men and women who tucked their chins at the snap of her cape. It was dramatic, but a necessary show of flamboyance; Reese respected her occasional bout of showmanship in the field if only to remind everyone that real power laid in crossing your t’s and dotting your i’s.

The fight was still raging, the world tilting on its axis while glares of spells shot past her ear and whizzed into the idle protection barrier Athena had conjured the moment a toe went across the threshold. Her soldiers were holding their own, and then some, smashing through the Daughters’ little hidey-hole, making a game from how they chased them through the halls. Sending them scurrying like so many rats that oft sniveled in corners before snakes and hawks, Athena snapped her wand out into her palm, sending an electrical current through one, vomit covering the tips of her shoes and she took the time to smear it on the downed person’s cheek before moving onward.

There were screams, yes of course there were screams; Athena had learned to parse through each kind—rage, horror, agony, defeat, and best of all pain. She knew the screams of pain, had made a game of learning what sorts of whimpers and cries could exit a person’s mouth, just how much they could take.

The one that cracked through the house was one of panic, of agony, of someone who’d made a kill for the first time and was watching the lifeforce slip away, completely unprepared for how it could split someone’s soul into so many pieces Humpty Dumpty was unable to fix you. Athena never wondered if fixing a soul was viable, all that mattered was the sanctity of innocence and peace. Her soul was well worth the cost of children happy in Hogwarts.

"The tablecloth. Lee, get me the—Come on, the tablecloth!" Dona's voice became more panicked as she felt the blood seep into her jeans, her knees slipping on the floor.

She could've summoned it herself, if her hands weren't already multitasking. Her wand, slick with blood, was clumsily waving along a deep cut, practicing a stitching spell she'd only ever observed. Her other hand was pouring dittany liberally over the auror's entire body.

"Lee! Get me the tablecloth!" She looked up from her work this time, eyes widening as she took in the situation more broadly.

The secondhand shop that hid Lee’s family’s home was filled with aurors—more than two, was it three or four? Her vision was blurry without her glasses. But Lee was hidden from sight, or had he apparated away? The sounds alone were terrifying, spells shot off walls, shouting, boxes thrown aside.

"Help me..." she begged aloud, shaking hands desperately trying to go back to work. Someone, anyone—she needed help. "...she's not breathing, help me, please.”

Lee clutched the tablecloth inside a shaking fist, and crouched beside his soleil awkwardly. He tried not to focus on the cops in strange robes who were tearing the secondhand shop apart with little regard and certainly no respect for its occupants or their business. He tried not to focus on anything but Dona—her big brown eyes, pleading and scared. Lee glanced helplessly at the raven-haired woman convulsing on the floor and said, “Do ya…do ya know who she is?”

He was moving so slowly, no urgency at all—or was it just because Dona’s own hands were doing so many things at once? Her wand, shifting up and down, desperately trying to coax muscles back together. Throwing aside the empty dittany bottle, then ripping the tablecloth out of Lee’s grasp to press it over the auror’s stomach, wrapping it tight, trying to stop anything else from spilling out. It was the first—the only—time Lee’s presence hadn’t comforted her.

“She’s an auror...” Dona’s voice came out in a gasp as she tied the tablecloth tighter, then went back to her wandwork, “...im-important, I think, her uniform…” But no, Dona didn’t know her personally.

She leaned across the auror’s body and slipped where she knelt, the auror’s warm blood soaking her thigh. It was getting increasingly difficult to see, between her lack of glasses and the hot tears gathering in her eyes, “I—” She gasped, wet hands reaching up to wipe her tears, smearing the red in the creases, “I don’t know what to do—”

Dona looked around, head whipping about, “I-Is anyone here? M-Mags might… She would know, I—” And when Dona turned back around, to try something, anything—as soon as her hand put the slightest touch on the auror—it disintegrated underneath her.

That was what broke her.

Auror. That was the same strange word Lee had heard that friendly white boy boulanje from the witch fruit market use to describe cops who used magic. And Lee absolutely held no love in his heart for law enforcement. But as he heard Dona slipping in blood spilled from the body of a stranger, as he watched that body disintegrate into grey-black soot beneath their hands and their knees, as he heard the light of his life wailing in terror and anguish beside him—Boy LII wished he’d been born for a fate that did not demand such sacrifices, that did not reap such a cost of needless destruction and despair.

He tried to offer words that might calm Dona, but what could he say? That despite her wondering desperately if Mags could have helped, Lee recognized this magic as being woven from the Lady Magdeleine’s own hand—and a merciful annihilation, at that—by Mags’ and all of the Daughters’ own standards? No—Dona’s pure heart was not yet conditioned to the darkness of the magic she was soon to inherit that she would find much comfort in that.

Athena snapped open the door where the wails came from and stopped.

Ashworth was a thorn in Reese’s side, her Commander oft bitched about her comrade and ex-schoolmate. She was a pillar in the Auror Department, a mentor, and a powerful tool in the necessary violence for the protection of the Wizarding World.

But as Athena watched Ashworth slowly morph into a pile of dust, she could only think about three things: 1. Cmdr. Reese was going to become the Auror Department Head 2. They needed a new C&F Division Commander 3. She was about to become very familiar with the ways this girl screamed.

“In the name of the Ministry, put your hands in the air or I will cut them off.”

There was no time for consolatory words. Because before Lee or Dona could even think clearly enough to lift themselves up from the death muck that encompassed and incriminated them, a woman with black eyes that smoldered like brimstone was threatening them if they did not surrender.

Dona was terrified of getting in trouble. She remembered the exact number of times she’d gotten a detention—each of them because the class was being punished as a whole. She remembered each and every time she’d been sent to her room by her Mom, the loneliness in her room made her cry and cry until Catelyn relented.

And now, with a Ministry auror pointing a wand at her, threatening to cut her hands off, Dona was petrified. Her hands visibly shook as she raised them in the air, one hand still clutching her wand.

And despite Taitu’s grave warning, Lee’s protective instincts kicked in; he threw himself in front of Dona, bellowing, “Pa oze manyen li you—!” But before he could finish the statement of defiance and foolish valiance, he felt an electrical current like a bolt of lightning scorch through his body and knock him out cold.

“Lee, no—!” Dona shrieked, but she barely had time to try to stop him from making any sudden moves before he dropped to the ground, muscles seizing up and spasming. She went to move forward to check him over, but put her hands back up, looking at the auror. “I’m—I’m a Healer, I can… Let me… Please, I—”

But before she could do anything, her hands were pulled behind her back, her wand clattering to the ground next to her. She pulled against the sudden bondage instinctively, sending a shock of pain all the way up her arms. And Dona, who cried when she got a paper cut, screamed. Her shoulders hunched up to her ears and she struggled to stay balanced on her knees. Her scream died down to a low wail, tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Oh, shut up,” came a low, male voice from behind her, before a hand was placed on her shoulder, and she was apparated away.

***

[ Interrogation Room, Ministry of Magic ]

They were in the same room. Which was a mercy and a torture, by itself. Her hands were bound behind a chair, and Dona learned very quickly that moving or straining would only mean more pain. But she could move her head, turning to watch over Lee, who was still slumped in his chair.

“He needs a Healer,” Dona sniffed, blinking back more tears, “Please, he’s… He’s recently had surgery, he—”

“Spare me,” the auror spat, and Dona looked up, genuinely puzzled. “We know perfectly well how your kind treat people like him.”

“I—” The statement was so obtuse that Dona was truly lost for words, stretching up her shoulder to wipe her cheek. She sniffed again, genuinely trying to stop snotty crying in front of so many people. “C-Can you take the handcuffs off? We didn’t do anything wrong, I was trying to help.”

Athena had heard that plea before, a dozen or so times. They never meant to hurt anyone, they were only trying to help, they had no idea the backlash that they’d caused, surely this wasn’t against the law. Couldn’t she just let them go? They were kids, they were parents, they were grandparents, they were just following orders. Athena reached out with a hand and grabbed the front of the girl’s shirt, dragging her a short way up.

“You just killed an Auror Commander,” she hissed, “We’ve made meat for less than what you’ve done. You’ll be lucky if we decide to just toss you in Azkaban once her subordinates find out what has happened.” Athena could hear it now, the roars from the basement brats beneath her feet, their lab rats coming out of the pipes and crawling the steps to find Ashworth was simply dust in the wind. Scrambling for new leadership, and all of Ashworth’s little ‘projects’ doubtlessly stalking Athena’s crime scene looking for someplace to put their rage.

Athena disliked Ashworth, but she respected the loyalty the old Slytherin had drawn from her subordinates. She knew where to strike the ground and find oil, digging up potential like a miner, shining them to a polish and kept leashed to the Department. The Commanders were all Beast Masters, and even Athena loved her own. So as she stared at the sniveling girl groveling with reddening cheeks, she smiled.

“I think you’re lucky it’s me. There is going to be blood fertilizing the ground soon, once we find your little rat friends, and it will be all your fault. Their deaths around your neck—a noose, an albatross...”

Dona’s shoulders hunched up as she was lifted, eyes wide and terrified. She shook like a leaf, shaking her head desperately at the accusations, genuinely too afraid to talk, to deny it. The experience had been traumatizing enough; although a healer-in-training, the auror’s death was the first patient she hadn’t been able to save, and she wore the woman’s blood all over her. Dona could feel it drying into her jeans, her skin, her hands still tied behind the chair, straining against the wood as she was lifted. Tears continued to slide down her cheeks at the memory of it, and she sniffed, trying to stop long enough just to explain.

Athena let her grip drop and began to shuck off her peacoat; it was decorated with tools of the trade—knives, hooks, ropes, lighter fluid, especially brewed potions for her skill in these rooms. Janitors were often paid overtime for cleaning up Athena’s space, and Athena tipped them for the citrus scent they sprayed afterwards. She enjoyed it, kept her head clear and focused.

“...But you can stop some of the bloodshed, we can take them quietly. Oh they’ll be harmed, you can’t stop that. But you can stop a massacre.” Athena shucked off her white outershirt, folding it up neatly and laying it upon the equally meticulously folded peacoat. Both left in a far corner box, leaving Athena in her heavy black boots, wool pants and thin black undershirt.

Dona was still shaking her head when she was put back down, still trying to force words out as the auror continued on her spiel, but it was like her sobs were choking her, holding onto her tongue. The best she could manage was a stuttered, “I-I d-didn’t—”

Athena twirled her wand and mindlessly shot a cutting spell at the girl, watching blood ooze from her arm, slicing through layers of fabric. It was a shallow stinging cut. Her cries were stirring the boy, and that wouldn’t do.

Dona gasped at the sudden stinging sensation, crying out and turning to look at her arm. She was in genuine shock that the auror had hurt her, having always been under the impression that the Ministry’s job was to keep her safe. She’d never been in trouble, she voted, she submitted her census papers and carried her work ID in her back pocket. She blinked, shrinking back in her chair as the auror suddenly approached, flinching down into herself, frozen in fear as her pale finger caressed Dona’s cheek.

Like an older sister Athena patted the girl’s head, gentle and soft, shushing her softly, “We don’t want to wake him, do we, pretty girl? He needs his rest, it’s just you and me together…” Athena reached out to drag a single nail down the curve of the girl’s cheek. “...now, will you be a good girl and stay quiet for me? Tell me what I need and make sure he—” She pushed her cheek, still endowed with baby fat to the shallowly breathing boy, “—gets some well needed attention?”

Dona trembled, turning to look at Lee when she was forced to do so. She was immediately worried for him—she’d lost track of time, sure, but she was sure it wasn’t normal or healthy for Lee to be unconscious for so long, especially following his intense period of hospitalization, treatments and surgeries. He was so fragile. So breakable—

But Athena didn’t wait for an answer as she stuck the wand up against the girl’s knee and whispered a breaking charm. The girl’s answered shriek made her tsk.

Dona cried out, letting out a shattering wail at the bursting sensation in her knee. The proximity of the wand tip to her knee split her patella clean in two, and her knee immediately collapsed in on itself, shattered. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she strained against her restraints to lean forward, desperately trying to free herself—to do anything to stop the pain.

“Oh you’re weak, that’s cute. Even our trainees can get through a little breaking charm. C’mon stop crying, we’re just getting started.”

“Why are you doing this?” Dona managed to wail through her cries, shoulders shaking as she begged the auror for help, “I didn’t kill her—I didn’t, I didn’t—I didn’t have enough dittany and I—” That was all she could manage before her sobs won out again.

Athena hummed jauntily as she sat back down on her ass, the picture of relaxation, letting her hands hang over the peaks of her knees. In this way the girl was looking down at her, it was an old trick, such a position usually signaled defeat but instead Athena displayed an arrogant grace.

“Why am I doing this?”

Were she a weaker auror, she might’ve balked, might’ve had some flashbacks to her youth, found err in her ways. She might’ve felt sympathy or even had evoked some guilt. Might’ve cried a bit and stared at her bloodied palms in disgust for the person she had become. Might’ve been horrified and begging for mercy from a benevolent God who’d turn her away at the pearly gates.

Fuck God, and benevolence, and forgiveness too. Hell was on Earth and the aurors were there to keep it tamed. Athena was born to bring justice, by any means necessary.

“Because this is what I am—” Athena gestured to the room around her, “—a peacekeeper, keeping children safe in their beds, their parents from worrying, students safe at Hogwarts and professors snuggly drinking tea in the mornings as they grade.”

Athena was good at grand speeches, had made rousing ones when she was a prefect for Slytherin House, keeping order in her House in the wake of the Second Wizarding War and ending fights before they began. Spilled blood on the stones of Hogwarts still haunted her dreams, the screams of students dying and being torn apart, the inaction of those around her...

It made her sick.

“I am incapable of inaction.” Athena stood, dusting herself off. “So we’re going to try this again, baby Healer—why are you wrapped up with such dark magic that it’s making the veterans of the Wars nervous? Why are you so entrenched in them that you’ve taken one of them as a lover?” Athena reached out to tilt his head to the side, and walked around her, fingers running over her hair, blood flaking off while she tutted. “Merlin this is gross—yeck, blegh…” with a spin of her wand the blood was gone, the viscus and the muck. “…and I can play nice—I just need answers.”

Athena tapped his shoulder, sending a jolt of electricity with the tips of her fingers.

“Wakey wakey, Loverboy! I need to know what you and your lot were up to— quickly, otherwise I’m liable to break every bone in your girl's body. Then I’ll take your ears so you can’t even hear her screams, hmm?”

She watched his eyes slide open, watched his mouth move and open. With the accuracy of a sniper she fired off a curse with her wand. “Tumidus lingua veritatis,” she hissed, watching as his hands jerked to cover his mouth, the girl shrieking, “Oh both of you relax, it’s just a curse. Swelling Truth. The more you lie, your tongue swells, as do your gums and throat. Until eventually you close your own airways and asphyxiate. So let's play a game—I ask you a question boy, and if you don’t answer I break something in her body. If you lie, you get to hang yourself. It’s a win-win! For me! I’m brilliant.”

Athena sat back on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, perching a chin on her fist with a sharklike grin, and regarding the panicking captives. “Tell me nothing but the truth and you get out unscathed, you get Healers and auror protection, then walk your lives along unharmed. Tell me lies and get broken down, then tossed to the wolves of the Forensics & Crime. They’ll have fun with you I’m sure, and they won’t be as nice as me about it.”

***

[ Interrogation Room, some time later ]

All efforts to communicate the catch-22 situation in which Lee was caught to the sadistic woman who held them captive were a fool’s errand. The intricate wards that were rooted into the very core of his mind, his memories, since infancy held strong; they allowed Lee to say nothing that would damn the Daughters, nor give the faintest hint as to any of their secrets, no matter how fiercely he strained against them as Lee was forced to watch the horrors the woman wrought upon Dona, slowly and meticulously draining all the fight and the will from her battered body (not to mention a dangerous amount of blood).

And oh, did she try to turn her wrath on him. What appeared to Athena to be brute determination from Lee in employing his so-called right to remain silent—even as he pleaded through choking sobs for the girl to be spared—only drove the auror to push more brutally, and ruthlessly, and viciously upon the pair of captives. 

But it was no use; the Daughters, of course, had ample preparations in place to safeguard their secrets from being extracted via torture. Like magical anesthesia, Lee could feel every bit of physical pain that Athena inflicted upon him, and yet his body doggedly failed to react—aside from coating Lee in a thick sheen of feverish sweat, and the way he trembled head to toe as he wrestled with his will, and all that he was unable to do. 

And soon enough, his inability to be forthcoming caused his throat, his tongue, his lips and mouth and cheeks to swell up so much that he could barely move his head, barely breathe but through tiny passageways still available to his nose. Even getting enough air to audibly groan was veering toward impossible. His head slumped to one side and Lee looked at nothing but Dona, beaten and broken and still so beautiful, and his vision started to blur; he was losing Oxygen…

Dona’s reaction to her senseless torture remained consistent: insisting throughout tearful hysterics that she didn’t know anything. Even the curdled screams that she wailed in response to each and every bit of pain took a while to dull—but they did dull, eventually, until she’d been reduced to being unresponsive save for whimpering, her nostrils and lips and chin caked with blood from the broken nose Athena had given her when the interrogation was interrupted by a younger, male auror demanding a routine blood test. It was the restraints, not strength, that were even keeping the girl sitting upright.

And perhaps the Auror Captain never would have admitted defeat—perhaps she would have wrung the young captives body and soul between unrelenting fists until their lives were drained out.

Perhaps, but not today—the male auror who was Athena’s clear inferior hustled back into the room and said, “Christ, Howell—did you bother to check that brat’s background at all? Her blood test came back—she’s pure. Some American family with their noses up some powerful peoples’ asses—Reese is pissed. She’s headed here now so I hope for your sake you have a fuckin’ good excuse—“

His warning was cut short when the Commander—now the acting interim head of the entire Auror Department—threw open the door.

Seren Reese watched with a curled lip as Athena shook in place, there was blood on her cheek, and her hair was matted to her skull from sweat. There was a feverish sheen in the woman’s eyes, and Seren admired how her little monster coiled away from the doorway when it tapped gently against the wall. It was nice to know that her subordinates still feared her.

Her two aurors parted, heads bowed, eyes to the floor, letting her view the damage Howell had wrought. It was impressive, and obvious she needed to let Athena get off in the interrogation rooms more often if this was the result.

“You’re quite sloppy today, Athena...” Seren grabbed the boy's head and turned it side to side, admiring his swollen skin and throat. No doubt he’d been suffering this whole time, his skin and blood stank of wards to high heaven. “...you’ve gone and let your bloodlust cloud you Athena, perhaps you will need supplementary lessons?”

“Yes Commander,” Pierce was grinning beside Howell, always happy to watch someone else get dressed down, seeing as he was the usual thorn in her side when it came to getting wand- or fist-happy. “I apologize.”

“Apologize to her.” She gestured to the pureblooded girl strapped to the chair, blooded and mangled.

Athena’s jaw worked once, then twice. She bowed her head when Seren raised an eyebrow, “I apologize for my heavy-handed... methods....miss.” Each word a grind from her throat.

“Oh that’s not an apology...” Seren held her hand out, and Athena went willingly into her palm, head bowed as Seren studied her favorite little protege, the one she’d trained since exiting Hogwarts in the fickle arts of their station. Her hands glided through sweat matted hair, fingers curling as she gathered the strands into her hair, before slamming Athena forward, yanking her head forward and forcing the girl into a bow. Seren’s nails dug into Athena’s scalp pulling up hair and blood. “Grovel, girl—you have fucked up, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” Athena whimpered, skin on the back of her neck red.

“You ought to just die right here, for failing your station so miserably, right?” She shook Athena like a bad puppy, and the girl nodded.

“Yes ma’am...” Athena cowed as Seren shoved the girl to the ground. Isaac was behind her, lips pulled into a joyful grin. “...I don’t deserve this station, I have failed you miserably.”

“Get out.” Athena stumbled out the door, slamming right into Cadmus, who grabbed the woman by her jaw and dragged her down the hallway. “Pierce—” The boy snapped into place. “—Get me a healer, and the proper legal documents.” With flick of her wand she transfigured one of Athena’s buttons into a metal stool that she perched on, spreading her broad patterned skirts daintily around her knees and tucking her ankles behind.

“Miss Outterridge,” she began with a purr, “I do so apologize for the mauling one of my trigger-happy aurors has given you. I know we likely will not escape the wrath of your family, for good reason, but we must have answers...” Pierce came rushing in with a Healer, who got to work on the damage. “...you have found yourself in a pickle with a terrorist magical cell of insurgents that we’ve been tracking for a long time. Their misdeeds and evil have sunk their claws into this world, and the aurors are tasked with ripping them apart. It’s unfortunate that you’ve come under their sway...” Slowly, the visage of the girl was put back together. “...and now you’ve been cited as an accomplice to one of my colleague’s deaths—a very high ranking member of the Auror Corps, one not so easily replaced and who will be vehemently missed...” Seren kept the emotion out of her voice, though her stomach churned and throat tightened at the thought of Ashworth having escaped this earth before her, and not beside Seren. Were they not meant to die with hands wrapped around each other's necks? “...so you must understand where we are coming from. Our job is dangerous, and you’ve become involved with insurgents with more blood on their hands than you may realize.”

Dona’s eyes were glassy as she stared ahead, her tears long dried, her screams long silenced. She felt like she wasn’t quite inside of her own body, mangled as it was. She didn’t know when it had happened, and it wouldn’t matter anyway; Dona had no sense of time passing as she sat there, staring.

She had no reaction to another auror entering the room, then another. She barely managed to lift her head to listen to the new auror’s spiel, most of it going in one ear and out the other. She spoke of terrorism? This auror didn’t know the fucking meaning of it.

They’d been sitting at home, lounging around on Lee’s bed when it happened. Dona had jumped up and scampered out, wand drawn, to see what the commotion was—and that’s when she had found the cursed Commander. Lee hadn’t followed.

He’d taken his sweet time to help her—time that might have prevented the dark-haired auror from dying, and then when they were arrested, he’d kept his lips shut. He didn’t answer a single question. Not when they broke her legs. Not when curses spasmed down her body, forcing broken limbs to move. Not even when they’d cut off her fucking finger.

Voodoo would always be misunderstood, mambo had taught. As long as colonialists existed, so too would their oppression. They saw the magic that Lee and his family did, and didn’t understand it, so they called it dangerous, called it terrorism. And then they tortured her for it. Terrorists.

Dona was barely aware of her body being healed, muscle and bone knitting itself together. It was easier to breathe when her nose was in one piece.

The decision was made, at some point, to move Dona to a different room where she could be healed easier—somewhere she wasn’t bound to a chair, at least. She tried to mumble a protest, but words didn’t come out, her arms weakly pushed against the Healer before the choice was made for her, and Dona found herself being propped up, stumbling out of the room.

She swallowed the potions they gave her, snatched the salve jars out of their hands to rub it in herself. When they eventually located her wand, which had been confiscated from Lee’s family home, she used it to heal herself, too.

And then she was left sitting there in an Auror Infirmary, glaring at the wall in front of her. She would have walked straight out if the same cocky-looking auror wasn’t standing just outside the door, and if she knew Lee had a reliable way home. Not that Dona particularly wanted to wait for him, she just wanted to be able to look him in the face when she screamed at him for his silence.

[ Meanwhile, in the Interrogation Room... ]

Despite looking well-close to dead where he sat, when the girl was removed from the room, the boy stirred.

Seren studied him, like a cockroach in a jar, and mused, “You’re under some complex spellwork, boy—it’d be impressive if it weren’t so primitive. I’m sure I could break these little wards and curses…” Childsplay, though Ashworth would have done it quicker and painlessly. She’d always been better with curse-breaking, and curse-making, damn her.

But Ashworth wasn’t here, and Seren knew pain came with growth. With a flick of her wand she lifted the curse Athena had put on him, one of the girl’s own creation, and gestured.

“Speak boy, defend your terrorist cell, and perhaps we’ll allow an easier release alongside her.”

Just when Lee was about to surrender to the darkness that was creeping along the edges of his vision, to stop fighting and just let himself be pulled beneath the surface to be buried in the muck by Death’s muddy vines, those sweet ghastly tendrils that had tethered Boy LII to the Depths Below since birth—

Once more, just as before, he was spared; for attestations of some other realm that were not for a worthless boy to know, Death released Lee and he buoyed back to the shoal of life.

His features shrunk back to their proper shape and he gasped air back into his lungs, choking on it as if he’d been drowned. A new woman, with gray hair, was sitting before him. Lee thrashed, his eyes flashing like a spooked horse; where was Dona? What had they done to her?

“Please, ya gotta listen to me—the other one didn’t understand, wouldn’t listen, it’s—Dona doesn’t know anything, you’ve got to let us go, you got no idea what’s comin’ if ya keep…”

He convulsed for a moment, as if some unseen force was passing through his body. Then he sat upright, his back straightening unnaturally given the injuries he’d incurred. He looked straight at the gray-haired woman and his pupils blew all the way out, until his eyes were clouded over entirely with a sinister, unreflective black.

The boy blinked his stygian eyes. Blood trickled slowly down from one nostril and then the other, trailing over the edges of his lips, but he paid it no heed as he spoke in a flat, chilling tone that sounded entirely unlike the voice he’d spoken with but a moment ago: “By Tituba's will, and the Spirit of her Daughters, vengeance will come. She will flood acid rain on your prejudice, burn your lies over the fire with which you burned us, and boil your posterity in blood. This we swear, to be followed through in this world and those to come.”

[ Back in the Infirmary... ]

Eventually, the door to the infirmary swung open, and a blonde woman marched in, looking frantic. Dona averted her gaze, looking to the ground. The woman’s auror-issue boots were grimy, muddy. She’d been at the house when it was raided. Her gaze flicked up to glare at the older woman.

“My name is Major Max Squint. I am so, so sorry for what happened—it was never meant to be like that...” the woman said, pulling up a chair. She sat on it, putting her elbows on her knees, “...this Operation was put in place to help you, and the boy with you. I’ve been looking into the Daughters for years, and we’ve never had the opportunity to help someone before it’s too late. Miss Outterridge—Dona—it’s not too late. Whatever they’ve told you, it’s not true. We can help you.”

Dona’s chin wobbled before she leaned forward to spit at the auror’s face. “Go fuck yourself.”

Max put her hands over her face, wiping away the spit before massaging her temples, wringing her hands down her cheeks. “Please, let me help you—”

“Fuck you.” Dona snapped, exhaling sharply. It took everything, everything she had not to reach for her wand. To hurt this person like she’d been hurt. To blow everything up. To set the world on fire for what it had done.

Max looked especially stressed at this, standing from her chair. “Please—”

“Get the fuck away from me.” Dona’s voice shook, and the woman shook her head, leaving the room and swinging the door shut behind her.

Max was livid as she stormed back down the hallway toward the Interrogation Room; her mission, months if not years of work and preparation and carefully-gathered intel, just for Reese to pull rank and that rabid creature she called a protege to blow it all up in a couple of hours?

Not only had this botched mission gotten Ashworth killed, but Max feared the Daughters had vanished into the wind again. The identity of their mark—the most promising lead Max had gotten in ages—was well and truly lost, turned against working with her and horrifically mistreated for nothing, all on Max’s tip from the Free Traders. But the boy…

Max knew that all boys who were kept in the service of the Daughters eventually became missing persons. She’d written the damn case file herself, in meticulous detail. So although she knew that the damage done by the Nest may have been too much to correct, although she knew it was likely too late to reach him…

Max knew she had to try.

[ Interrogation Room ]

Lee’s eyes fluttered, the white returning to them. He was breathing heavily, sweat shining on his face and neck. He looked empty, and utterly broken—a filthy dishrag that had served its purpose and was all wrung out, waiting to be disposed of. “Please…let us go. Ain’t got…nothin’ else to give ya.”

Seren nodded to herself, tutting. “Well that was enlightening, and rather cute. I’d love to pick apart that type of spell work, must be tied into blood...” The woman fluffed up her skirts as she stood. “Thank you dear boy, you’ve given us plenty.” She reached over to run her nails over his head, dragging along his skull even as Lee flinched from her touch.

“My poor darling did a number on you—my girl is fierce, I’m quite proud of her, you know…” Seren walked around him, studying the set of his shoulders and face. “You’re a walking tomb, boy, like those of pharaohs, warded and cursed into the next world. It wouldn’t take much to break them all down…” She leaned down, “…give you a clean slate, a working body, a tongue and hands that belong only to you and those you’d gift it to…”

The Auror Commander straightened and nodded to the Healer who ushered over, his face white and pinched.

“…You’ll be with your girl soon enough, but if you ever want a free life, do ask. We’ll hand it over, as long as we can charge the cost to the information in your head. Be well, and tell the Healer what your favorite candy is—she’s so very good at finding every flavor. Like an American Baskin Robbins.” Seren didn’t wait for an answer as she shut the door behind her, a few of her loyal henchmen around her.

But Max was waiting there to head her off.

On any other day, Max would not have had the nerve, but she was at the end of her rope enough to snap at Seren, “Do me a favor, Reese—the next time I ask you for backup, would you mind controlling your fucking rabid dog? You’ve got no idea the damage that your squad has done!”

Ignoring the accusations entirely, Seren just smiled at her with a black widow’s venom in the sharp curves of her lips. “I believe congratulations are in order, Major Squint? It appears you’re up for a rather unexpected promotion.”

It took Max a moment too long to understand Seren’s response, her hands on her hips, jaw locked. Reese, now the Head of the Auror Department, was giving her Ashworth’s role. It was a promotion, on paper at least. But Reese knew as well as anyone else in the Department worth their salt that Thorne had been groomed from the beginning to step into those shoes—and that Max had practically grown the Infiltration Unit with her own two hands. Becoming a Commander of Forensics, a role currently ‘reserved’ for her pseudo-girlfriend, was as good as a slap in the face.

The blonde pursed her lips, desperate not to speak further out of turn lest she fuck herself over even more, before stepping around the Commander to have a word with the boy—Max’s asset—that Reese’s cronies were manhandling.

And to her back, Seren added, “And one more thing, Max—at least all of my beasts are on leashes. Are all of Ashworth’s?”

The door closed, and Seren waited a beat before chirping to the henchmen who flanked her, “Well, hop to it then! We don’t have all day to fix Squint’s investigation. Chop chop!” The aurors all turned with a puff of white smoke, dissipating into streaming columns through the corridors, off to execute plans Seren had made when she’d beaten Ashworth for Head Auror position.

It tasted like ash, but Seren popped a lemon candy into her mouth, and walked down the hall whistling as Pierce came from the shadows to her side, a hulking shadow who kept throwing glances at the boy and the Auror Major they had left in the Interrogation Room.

[ Interrogation Room ]

Max let herself in, beyond caring about the insubordination of interrupting a ranking auror’s proceedings. The battered boy struggled against Seren’s loyal subordinates. Max waved them away, trying to dismiss them, but they hovered doggedly nearby even after releasing the boy.

Wasting no time, Max looked at him and begged desperately, “Please, don’t go…I know that my colleagues’ treatment of you has given you no reason to believe that anyone here would be on your side, but I am not like them. I can help you, I want to help you, if you’ll let me—I won’t try to make excuses for how my colleagues handled things today, but let me ask you this: is it any worse than the things that have been done to you at the hand of the Daughters? Can it even compare to what will happen, if you return to them?”

But the threat of his own life, the danger of crawling back to his lifelong abusers, seemed not to phase the boy at all. With deep and unshakeable resignation, he said coldly, “Appreciate the concern, ma’am, but I know my own people and I don’t need some uppity avocat cop with a white savior complex to save me. I know what I’m meant for, I’ve known where my life was goin’ for a long time…ain’t nothing you can do or say that’ll change it. So unless one a you wants to get in a few more lashings…?” Lee spared a hateful glance toward Seren’s goons, who returned to him blank and remorseless stares. “…I’ll find Dona, and we’ll be outta your hair.”

And he didn’t grant Max a reply before shoving his way out the door without looking back.

Max sighed, pressing fingers against the pressure points at her temple. And finally, she thought about what Seren had said; ‘All of my beasts are on leashes…are all of Ashworth’s?’

[ In the Auror Corridors... ]

“Thorne!” Athena strode down the hall as if fiendfyre was after her, Cadmus’s words echoing in her brain: “Tell Ashworth’s pet that she’s dead, make sure to tell her Squint knew, and make sure it hurts.”

“Hey, Thorne!” The woman Athena was addressing turned, a donut half hanging out of her mouth, papers stacked up to her chin, ink stains on her arms and blood around her cuticles. The Killer Case was taking it’s toll; how quaint. “Can we talk?”

Thorne raised a brow over her elfish face, spitting the half eaten donut onto the top papers in her arms. “What about?”

What a disgusting little cretin… Athena looked around, and said, “Not here. In Ashworth’s office. It’s sensitive information.”

Thorne nodded, humming to herself. “Joint mission? Must be, Ashworth’s been quiet last few days or so... but you know how the missions for the Uppers are. Always so secretive. Honestly, she forgot we had a dinner reservation last night…must be important if she’s dragging your Division Mum into it.”

Athena let her prattle on, and together they stepped through the office door and closed it tight.

[emeraldgreaves]

23 Books in 2023

[2022]

Finished

Loved / reread / read

The Vegetarian by Han Kang (12/29/22 - 1/4/23)

The Defining Decade by Meg Jay (1/5)

Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu (1/6)

Natalie Tan’s Book of Luck and Fortune by Roselle Lim (1/6-1/8)

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik (1/5-1/11)

Network Effect (The Murderbot Diaries #5) by Martha Wells (1/4-1/19)

The Goddess Chronicle by Natsuo Kirino (12/27–1/19)

Swan Dive by Georgina Pazcoguin (1/19)

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (1/24-2/3)

Creativity, Inc. by Ed Catmull & Amy Wallace (1/20–2/9)

I’m Still Here by Austin Channing Brown (3/4)

Once Upon a Marquess by Courtney Milan (3/1-3/10)

This Is Not a Book About Benedict Cumberbatch by Tabitha Carvan (4/4)

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig (4/23)

A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula LeGuin (finished 4/29)

Nuclear Family by Joseph Han (4/27- 5/3)

The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula LeGuin (4/30-5/9)

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone (reread, started est. bigolas dickolas saga & finished 5/25)

The Devil Comes Courting by Courtney Milan (5/11-5/26)

Life Mask by Emma Donoghue (5/27-5/30)

Lady of the Camelias by Alexandre Dumas, fils (reread, 5/14-6/4)

My Not-So-Perfect Life by Sophie Kinsella (6/4-6/6)

The Blue Castle by L. M. Montgomery (6/6-6/7)

Shakespeare Saved My Life by Laura Bates (6/7-6/11)

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula LeGuin (6/4-6/18)

Love is a Mixtape by Rob Sheffield (6/14-6/21)

Beauty by Robin McKinley (reread, 6/22-6/24)

Geisha: A Life by Mineko Iwasaki (6/26-6/28)

A Lady of Persuasion by Tessa Dare (6/29-6/30)

Red, White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuinston (6/30)

The Duke Who Didn’t by Courtney Milan (reread, 7/1-7/3)

Any Duchess Will Do by Tessa Dare (6/30-7/4)

Yellowface by R. F. Kuang (7/3)

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison (7/10)

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin (7/18)

Persuasion by Jane Austen (7/14-7/22)

Going Postal by Terry Pratchett (reread, 7/21)

Burnout by Emily Nagoski, PhD, and Amelia Nagoski, DMA (7/23-7/24)

Mao’s Last Dancer by Li Cunxin (7/3-7/24)

The Red Palace by June Hur (7/26-8/2)

The Farthest Shore by Ursula LeGuin (8/1-8/15)

Wintersmith by Terry Pratchett

The Queen of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner

Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg 

The King of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner

The Good Neighbor: The Life and Work of Fred Rogers by Maxwell King (9/2-9/3)

Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple (9/3-9/4)

Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl by Andrea Lawlor (9/22-9/27)

A Mathematician’s Lament by Paul Lockhart (9/23-9/28)

Disorientation by Elaine Hsieh Chou (9/28-9/29)

Days of Distraction by Alexandra Chang (9/27-10/02)

Foreverland by Heather Havrilesky (10/03)

Go Set A Watchman by Harper Lee (10/21)

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (finished 10/27)

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up / Spark Joy by Marie Kondo (11/15-11/18)

Raise Your Voice by Kathy Khang (11/28)

The Swedish Art of Aging Exuberantly by Margareta Magnusson (12/5-12/6)

The Art of Discarding by Nagisa Tatsumi (12/5-12/7)

The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson (12/11)

Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie (12/17-12/24)

The Queen’s Gambit by Walter Tevis (12/28-12/31)

Ongoing

The Worst Journey in the World: The Graphic Novel by Sarah Airriess (1/17–)

Lord of the Rings (via LOTR Newsletter)

DNF

Kaikeyi by Vaishnavi Patel (12/28–1/12)

Astray by Emma Donoghue (1/4-1/13)

Time Squared by Lesley Krueger (2/10)

Mambo in Chinatown by Jean Kwok (3/18-3/19)

Density rhapsody lmao (4/4-4/18)

Madly deeply alan rickman (4/19-4/20)

Be the bridge (4/20)

The dead romantics (4/20)

Bronze drum (5/1)

This is how augusten burroughs (5/3)

Tastes like war grace m cho (5/4)

The duchess war courtney Milan (5/11)

The calculating stars mary robinette kowal (5/11)

Frugal wizard brandon sanderson

Fool moon jim butcher (5/21)

Vladimir julia may jonas (5/29)

Light from uncommon stars (6/11)

The spy who came in from the cold by john lecarre (6/25, try again later)

How not to be wrong by jordan ellenberg (6/29)

The great derangement by amitav ghosh (7/28)

i keep my exoskeletons to myself by marisa crane (9/16)

the key to rebecca by ken follet (10/03. not even tim downie can rescue this)

Frostblood by Ely Blake (11/something - 12/11)

Too Like The Lightning by Ada Palmer (12/17. wanted to love it though)

The expatriates by janice yk lee (12/27)

[adamwatchesmovies]

Happily N’Ever After (2006)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

You can’t believe Happily N’Ever After was made in 2006, much less that it was released in theatres. This obvious attempt to cash in on the success of Shrek and its sequels is dreadful. Its funny moments are as rare as photos of Sasquatch, the animation is cheap, the voice acting poor, the writing deplorable and the plot ill-conceived. I wanted nothing more than for it to end.

In the realm of fairytales, the Wizard (George Carlin) oversees the balance of good and evil, ensuring every prince and princess gets a happy ending. When he goes on vacation, his assistants Munk (Wallace Shawn) and Mambo (Andy Dick) accidentally disturb the equilibrium. When Ella “Cinderella” (Sarah Michelle Gellar) is invited to the royal ball and given a magical makeover by her fairy godmother, her evil stepmother Frieda (Sigourney Weaver) takes advantage of the Wizard’s absence and takes control of the kingdom. While Cinderella looks for her lost Prince (Patrick Warburton), the palace dishwasher, Rick (Freddie Prinze, Jr.) decides to accompany her, secretly hoping she’ll realize the royal is not the man she’s been dreaming of.

Take a look at any frame and you’ll wonder where the $47 million budget went. Happily N'Ever After looks like a PlayStation 2 game, or a very professional supermarket commercial for a local chain. The character designs are ugly and the backgrounds are largely empty. Clearly, the animators didn’t have the means to accomplish what they wanted. I’ve never directed a film, much less an animated one but my understanding is that a director’s job is to look at the script, screenplay and storyboards and figure out how to bring it all to life. Why spend the money to develop seven gnomes when Cinderella could’ve just as easily met Dorothy’s Three Bears? Why did the Wizard need two assistants when just one bumbler would’ve sufficed? I know hindsight is 20-20. Nonetheless, anyone with an unbiased eye would’ve taken a look at what was on-screen and said “this isn’t working”.

Then again, why try to make Happily N’Ever After look good when the story is utterly worthless? The characters are so flat and uninteresting it’s a struggle to stay awake. You don’t care about Cinderella because so little time is spent with her between all of the side characters, the kingdom and the rest of the world. You care even less about Rick, who feels like a self-insert from a bad fan fiction. Frieda gladly calls herself evil, which might fit in a normal fairy tale, but this is supposed to be a deconstruction of the Brothers Grimms’ stories. You’re so bored with the lame romance at the film's center you begin questioning everything. I’d bring you along the mental journey but what’s the use when no thought went into any of this? The world of Happily N’Ever After makes no sense.

Unsurprisingly, the voice acting is horrendous. I can’t blame the performers. The dialogue is uninspired, cheesy and lame. It’s as if the casting director had a bunch of celebrities chained up in his basement but didn’t have the torture instruments required to break true a-listers and instead had to settle for the bottom of the barrel - no offense to anyone in this movie but we've seen performances elevate rickety material before and that's not what's happening here.

Did I mention this is a musical? Indeed, Happily N'Ever After features a collection of uninspired tunes and unmemorable lyrics perfectly fit for the rest of the film. Are we forgetting anything else? Can any more criticisms be thrown at this target? It deserves every single one of them, that’s for sure.

Every aspect of Happily N’Ever After ranges from lackluster to pathetic. It’s impossible to imagine anyone ever calling this their favorite film and the idea of it being the first - or last film - someone ever saw fills me with despair. The knowledge of a sequel existing out there brings suicidal thoughts to mind. I had to sit through this, and there’s another one too? Is there no justice in this world? (January 11, 2019)

[krystletan]

Dezign Format Pte Ltd - Adapting Retail Interior Design: Post-Pandemic Insights

The world took a twirl, and so did retail! With masks on and social distancing dance moves, the pandemic shifted how we shop. But guess who's been twirling in sync? Retail interior design! In Singapore, our shopping haven, the design and build companies have waltzed with creativity to adapt retail spaces for the new normal. Let's dive into this design disco:

1. Safety First, Style Second: A Choreography of Health

Amidst the rhythm of uncertainty, the safety spotlight took center stage. Design and Build maestros orchestrated a symphony of safety measures that harmonise with style. Picture one-way aisles guiding us like dance partners, touchless payment steps leading the routine, and sneeze-guard ballet – a graceful combination that ensures shopping is not just delightful but secure.

2. Space - The Distanced Frontier: Expanding Horizons

In this space odyssey, design and build virtuosos took "distance" to a new dimension. Expansive layouts and clever configurations spun a tale of space innovation. The result? A shopping expanse that respects personal space while celebrating the joy of discovery. It's like every shopper has a front-row seat in a cosmic theatre of products.

3. Tech Tango: Digital Choreography Unleashed

Tech tangoed its way to the dance floor, and design and build experts embraced it with flair. Interactive touchscreens waltz to our touch, apps samba to our orders, and virtual reality quicksteps into our homes. Shopping's no longer a mere transaction; it's a tech-infused performance where every click is a step in the retail routine.

4. Mood Lighting, Happy Feet: Illuminating Emotions

Mood lighting – it's not just about brightness; it's a mood-altering melody. Imagine stepping into a store where the lighting is a conductor of emotions. Design and build wizards curated an ambiance that's both captivating and comforting, where every corner radiates the perfect glow, making shoppers want to dance their way through the aisles.

5. Flexibility Mambo: A Dance of Adaptability

The Flexibility Mambo – a dance where spaces transform as fluidly as a dancer's moves. Design and build virtuosos performed this dance of adaptability, conjuring pop-up shops like magic and changing displays with a swish. Shopping's now a series of surprises, with each visit offering a fresh rhythm of products and arrangements.

6. Green Groove: Nature's Dance Floor

Nature took the spotlight, and design and build leaders embraced the green groove. Vertical gardens foxtrot on walls, sustainable materials salsa underfoot, and eco-friendliness two-steps into style. It's a refreshing twist to retail, a dance where sustainability and aesthetics waltz hand in hand.

7. Personalisation Paso Doble: Tailored Shopping Experience

Ever felt like a VIP in a store? That's the Personalisation Paso Doble! Design and build trailblazers donned their data hats, turning shopping into a bespoke experience. With data-backed insights, they wove a dance of personalisation, where every step feels tailor-made, like a dance designed just for you.

8. Community Conga: The Heartbeat of Togetherness

Retail's rhythm pulses with community spirit – it's the Community Conga! Design and build conductors harmonise local art and culture, choreographing a dance that resonates with Singapore's vibrant heartbeat. It's a shopping experience that not only celebrates products but also the rich tapestry of the local community.

9. Storefront Symphony: Entrance Elegance

The storefront is the prelude, and design and build composers know how to strike the perfect chord. Textures, colors, and forms entwine in a symphony that sets the stage for what lies ahead. Aisle after aisle, shoppers are greeted with an entrance fanfare, an invitation to embark on a shopping symphony.

10. Playful Encore: Reimagined Retail, Rediscovered Joy As the curtain gently descends, we stand amidst a reimagined retail landscape. Design and build artisans take a final bow, having orchestrated a performance that turned challenges into an enchanting choreography. Retail interior design in Singapore isn't just about shelves and signs; it's about weaving joy into every step of the shopping dance.

Read more: https://mnbusinesssearch.com/adapting-retail-interior-design-post-pandemic-insights/

[mambo-by-a-mile]

Storytime idea: an alternate universe where Frieda won / succeeded in taking over the kingdom...from Mambo's POV.

'Cozy Enough? Need a blankie? A snack?'

Mambo just shot a pitiful glare back, a hot, single tear forming in the corner of his eye to as a harsh and unfortunate completion of said pitifulness-it wasn't as if he could do anything else in his given situation. For once, he had no wisecrack, quip, or smart retort full of his classic snark in response to the wolves' taunts. Nothing but the feeling of sheer smallness. He kept himself scrunched up in his attempt at a defiant stance from where he was shackled to the wall as he watched the vicious canids march away in howls of cruel laughter after slamming the caged door to his small cell.

Once he could no longer hear their cackles through the dungeon's stone walls, he loosened out of his former stance, and slowly walked towards the left corner of the cell he was being held in. He wiped a couple more tears from the corner of his eyes with his sleeve, defeatedly kicking a small stone on the floor towards the cell bars. He then slid himself down against the wall to sit down on the cold, hard floor, the chain locked around his torso rattling as he did so. The cuff seemed like it was initially meant to fasten around an ankle, though given the cat creature's small size it was more opted to fit around the former part of his body-not that it was any more comfortable there.

Mambo hugged his knees to his chest in a fetal position, feeling the chill of the dungeon air seep through his clothing fabric and fur. It only further served as a reminder of the situation he had gotten himself as well as his friends into in just a couple days. For all the times Munk and The Wizard had told him his troublemaking schemes would one day get him in real hot water, he had brushed it off as another typical scolding he had long been accustomed to, having never thought of it beyond that. With a kingdom now taken over by a madwoman, the phrase 'too little too late' in regards to putting the though in a serious light had never been more appropriate. Furthermore, he hadn't though it had ever meant him screwing up this badly.

Just a day or so ago he and Munk had been arguing over who had been to blame for Frieda getting her hands on the staff in the first place, though given his current position, even he didn't know how much of the blame he could deflect from himself and onto the pig creature anymore-now there was something he would never admit to his co-assistant under any other circumstance. Looking around his dark, lonely cell in the current circumstance-as much as he hated to admit it-he would give anything to hear the short pig's nagging voice from within the same room now. Anything to be back in the top tower room bored out of his skull, slopping away at the chores he despised so much if it was the alternative to this. All those times he just wanted the older small creature to let him have a little fun, his wishing for things to be 'edgier' or more interesting for him to be constantly denied, he never thought what was happening now would be the result of getting his wish fulfilled.

His thoughts drifted to Ella. Getting to know her over the past two days since Frieda's takeover as more than the classic 'Cinderella' or another fairy tale maiden but rather an optimistic, kind, determined, girl with her own thoughts, goals, and dreams had gotten the smart Alec cat creature to consider the lives of other fairy tale land residents within the stories of the book. If there was ever an incident that had proven to him that nobody's lives should be pre-determined by fate it was meeting and knowing her as a person rather than a character. Had he initially just thought of all the residents as mere characters or tools for him to put into 'interesting' scenarios for selfish amusement before his and Munk's talk with her over her story? Like Frieda had been doing? The thought was enough to make him wince. He couldn't imagine how scared she must be feeling now, whatever Frieda was doing to her. 'Yeah, because of you ya stupid, useless excuse for a wizard assistant.' His guilty conscious chewed him out.

And Rick, the young man who truly loved her and was ready to put himself in harm's way for her. Perhaps he had found a way to save her and was making things right somehow? For her and everyone else's sakes he hoped so.

Mambo felt another warm tear building up in the corner of his eye yet again. If only he had listened to Munk when he told him to get off the crystal ball, if he had just been content with sitting around keeping an eye on the Cinderella tale as The Wizard had told him and Munk to. Then again, he supposed he wouldn't have met Rick or Ella personally if he had...

Regardless, the usually devil-may-care, fun-loving, rebellious, mischievous cat creature had never felt so helpless before in his life. Had he been able to see Munk right now would the pig creature blame him just as much as he was blaming himself right now? Most likely. Worst of all, Mambo still didn't know whether or not he would be able to properly apologize to his co-assistant and-yes, he was sure-friend over causing all of this with his childish antics. What good would it do either way? The only thing he could do was sit silently in darkness and hope this nightmare would end somehow.

[marinerainbow]

A couple more headcannons for Happily N'Ever After that I forgot to add to my og post (you can find here if you'd like, as well as my headcannons for the N'ever After Wolves here).

The fact that Munk and Mambo looked surprised to see the dwarves all military style heavily implies that that was never part of this univers' version of Snow White. If so, that means that somehow, intentionally or not, they found a way to avoid being seen by the crystal ball. That means that there are blinds pots scattered throughout Fairytale Land, and very few know that- let alone know just one spot and have claimed it for their own. (Slashing, if you see this, imagine the wolves finding this out. Imagine them endlessly looking for the perfect blindspot to build a cottage to keep their S/O, and not have the wizard take her away from them again. Imagine them getting into a fight with another bad guy that has a blindspot claimed for himself.)

There's literally no evidence I found in the movie, just an idea: what if witches and wizards in this world are considered good or evil depending on how they use their magic. Specifically, how they either aide to keep the strict balance in Fairytale Land, or try to diverge from the book and write their own stories with the magic? What if the trio of witches were entrusted with the book of Fairytales, maybe even worked with the Wizard, but they went rogue and became part of the bad guys? And over time, they became true villains?

Could it be possible that Ricky has been around for so many retellings of Cinderella? His line, "It's about you becoming a princess so you can move upstairs and forget people like me exist," did get me thinking. It's very possible that he was just lashing out, but maybe that's what happened with past Ella's? Especially if wickeds theory that different reincarnations of characters tell the story is true; Rick has seen many different Cinderella's and served many Princes, but Ella is the one he fell for.

Anyways, that's it for now. Just food for thought.

[djzibaz]

136

Tony Acosta - Para Que No Me Olvides Laurindo Almeida - Ibert Perry Como - Papa Loves Mambo Bad Bunny - Cantares De Navidad --- Braid - The Chandelier Swing Mr. Rogers - I Need You Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks - Real Emotional Trash ---- The Sound of Music - My Favorite Things Sonic Youth - Sacred Trickster Sufjan Stevens - Say Yes! to Michigan! Pinback - Chaos Engine ---- Ian Sweet - Sword Sylvester - Do You Wanna Funk Ballet Folklorico de Mexico - Los Quetzales --- Aterciopelados - Baracunátana Chicano Batman - La Jura Electrelane - Cut and Run Sunny Day Real Estate - Pillars (live version) --- G. Love and Special Sauce - Walk to Slide The Drums - It Will End in Tears Esmaeel Tehrani - Homayun: Neydavud DeFranco Family - Maybe It's You ---- RX Bandits - Bandaid for My Soul The Sea and Cake - Lamont's Lament Murder City Devils - Press Gang (Latch Bros. Remix) Diana Ross covering B. Holiday ---- Epsilons - Red Hat Aquabats - It's Crazy Man So Many Wizards - You Won't See Me

[vrankup]

A Brief Introduction to WordPress|vrankup

y there, folks it's your digital marketing agency in dwarka, vrankup!

Picture this: you're itching to launch a website, but the whole tech jargon and coding mambo-jumbo seem like an alien language. Enter WordPress, your digital knight in shining armor.

Now, The dashboard – your website's control center – is a breeze to navigate. Whether you're a coding whiz or a tech toddler, you'll feel right at home.

Themes, ahoy! WordPress comes loaded with themes that give your website a makeover without breaking a sweat. Think of themes as your site's snazzy outfit – they determine how it looks. Fancy a minimalistic blog vibe? There's a theme for that. Craving a vibrant, artsy showcase for your work? Yup, got you covered.

there's more! Plugins strut onto the stage, turning your website from "meh" to "wow." They're like magical add-ons that sprinkle fairy dust on your site's functionality. Need a contact form? Bam! There's a plugin for that. SEO sorcery? Plugin. Online store dreams? You guessed it – plugin! With thousands of these bad boys to choose from, your website's potential skyrockets.

Oh, did I mention WordPress is the ultimate wingman for your mobile audience? In a world where phones rule, having a website that dances gracefully on screens of all sizes is non-negotiable. WordPress themes are your digital chameleons – adapting seamlessly to smartphones, tablets, and desktops. No pixel left behind!

Let's talk SEO, shall we? WordPress whispers sweet nothings to search engines like Google. It's like giving your site a megaphone and saying, "Hey, world, come check me out!" The code it spits out is clean and easy for search engines to gobble up. But wait, there's more magic – plugins swoop in to turbocharge your SEO efforts. Say goodbye to being lost in the digital wilderness!

Scaling up? Piece of cake! Whether you're a lone blogger or plotting world domination with an e-commerce empire, WordPress grows with you. It's like a digital puzzle – add pieces (plugins, content, pages) as you go, and voilà! Your website transforms, keeping up with your wildest dreams.

And now, the pièce de résistance: the WordPress community. Imagine a global family of tech wizards, designers, and enthusiasts who've got your back. Stuck on something? No problemo! Countless forums, tutorials, and guides are at your service.

But hold onto your mouse – there's more to the WordPress magic show. Sure, some fancy themes and plugins might ask for a few bucks, but the foundation is on the house.

Think of WordPress as the canvas, your imagination as the paintbrush. Your website is your masterpiece, and WordPress is the art studio that makes it all happen.

First, find a hosting provider that's down with the WordPress vibe. Most providers offer a one-click installation, getting you up and running faster than you can say "super-califragilistic-expialidocious." Then, start playing around with themes, picking one that matches your style and vibe. Plugins? Install the ones you need – just remember, quality over quantity!

Start crafting your content – be it blogs, pages, images, or videos. WordPress makes it as easy as pie. Publish, edit, organize – all at the snap of your fingers.

In a nutshell, WordPress is your digital genie, granting your website wishes with a swish of its code wand. It's versatile, beginner-friendly, and backed by a community that's got your back.

So there you have it, Ready to dive into this brave new digital world? The adventure awaits!

Catch you later,

digital marketing agency in dwarka |vrankup|

[munk-the-magic-master]

Were you always like this, or was there a time when you were human?

“Human? As far as I know, Mambo and I were always this way. That isn’t to say that the Wizard can’t change that at any time, but…well, I’d prefer to remain a pig.”

[obsessiveviewer]

092 - Khef - The Gunslinger and the Man in Black (The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger Part 5)

In this episode, Tiny and I continue our journey to The Dark Tower with a discussion of The Gunslinger chapter 5: The Gunslinger and the Man in Black.

  Become a patron for exclusive audio content and early access to episodes at Patreon.com/ObsessiveViewer.

  Timestamps

  Show Start – 00:40

Stephen King News/Check-ins – 06:09

  Previously…on The Dark Tower – 27:50

Part 5: The Gunslinger and the Man in Black – 30:31

  Closing the Ep – 1:04:28

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Speedway Lions Club: Charity Tricycle Race

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Stephen King says wife threatened divorce if he didn't stop playing 'Mambo No. 5'

Pet Sematary: Bloodlines trailer - on Paramount+ October 6

Stephen King’s Latest Book, ‘Holly,’ Tops Bestsellers Charts, Days After Debut

Stephen King Revealed His Approach To Writing A Mystery Novel, And It’s Way More Alfred Hitchcock Than It Is Agatha Christie

Stephen King Knows Anti-Vaxxers Are Going to Hate His Latest Book: ‘Knock Yourself Out’

  Stephen King's The Dark Tower: Beginnings Omnibus - Amazon Associate Link

Stephen King's The Dark Tower: The Gunslinger Omnibus - Amazon Associate Link

Stephen King's The Dark Tower: The Drawing of the Three Omnibus - Amazon Associate Link

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Obsessive Viewer Presents: Anthology – Matt’s solo podcast exploring science fiction anthology storytelling in television’s first golden age starting with The Twilight Zone.

  Mic Info

Matt: ElectroVoice RE20 into RØDEcaster Pro II  (Firmware: 1.2.2) - Processing: High Pass Filter, DeEsser, Compressor, and Master Compellor enabled (Recorded in the Living Room)

Tiny: Samson Q2U via USB in Google Meet

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    Episodes by Category

    News – Covering news items related to Stephen King and The Dark Tower

Palaver – General discussions about Stephen King and/or The Dark Tower series

Khef – Reviews and discussions of books and comics in The Dark Tower series

Novel Reviews – Reviews of Stephen King (and related) novels

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Interviews – Interviews with people with special ties to the work of Stephen King

Special Eps – Episodes that don’t fit into the other categories; usually announcement episodes pertaining to the podcast itself

    Matt’s Top 19 King Novels

    11/22/63

It

Wizard and Glass (The Dark Tower IV)

Pet Sematary

Misery

The Shining

The Drawing of the Three (The Dark Tower II)

The Dark Tower (The Dark Tower VII)

The Stand

The Waste Lands (The Dark Tower III)

Under the Dome

Billy Summers

Christine

Doctor Sleep

Wolves of the Calla (The Dark Tower V)

The Dead Zone

The Gunslinger (The Dark Tower I)

Revival

End of Watch

    Matt’s Top 19 King Adaptations

    The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

The Shining (1980)

It (2017)

11.22.63 (2016) - Miniseries

The Mist (2007)

Doctor Sleep (2019)

Misery (1990)

Castle Rock (2018) - Series

Creepshow (1982)

Stand by Me (1986)

Gerald's Game (2017)

Christine (1983)

Pet Sematary (1989)

The Dead Zone (1983)

Cujo (1983)

Carrie (1976)

The Shining (1997) - Miniseries

In the Tall Grass (2019)

Sometimes They Come Back (1991)

    Tiny’s Top 19 King Novels

    The Dark Tower (The Dark Tower VII)

Misery

The Stand

The Shining

The Drawing of the Three (The Dark Tower II)

The Gunslinger (The Dark Tower I)

Christine

Wizard and Glass (The Dark Tower IV)

It

Cujo

The Dead Zone

Mr. Mercedes

Gerald’s Game

Pet Sematary

Wolves of the Calla (The Dark Tower V)

Salem’s Lot

Under the Dome

11/22/63

The Waste Lands (The Dark Tower III)

    Tiny’s Top 19 King Adaptations

    Doctor Sleep (2019)

The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

It (2017)

Christine (1983)

The Shining (1980)

Stand By Me (1986)

The Mist (2007)

Misery (1990)

Creepshow (1982)

The Green Mile (1999)

Apt Pupil (1998)

Geralds Game (2017)

The Outsider (2019) - Miniseries

The Stand (1994)

The Shining (1997) - Miniseries

Lisey’s Story (2021) - Miniseries

1922 (2017)

11/22/63 (2016) - Miniseries

It (1990) - Miniseries

Find more of the show at TowerJunkiesPod.com