#watching someone glide with mastery and control

[sunskate]

Hi! If you don’t mind I have a few questions after the RD.

1. I read somewhere that Caroline and Michael had the highest base value of any team but obviously sit in 5th. So is it all GOE from there that they’re not getting?

2. Why do you think Marjo and Zak have trouble with their levels? They seem to skate confidently and consistently, but then miss out on base value and levels.

3. Madi Chock I think gets a lot of flak from the inter web about her skating skills and I was wondering what you thought of her level 4 today? Do you think her skills have improved since moving to IAM? What could she be doing better? I know it’s about delivering good programs for judges, not the internet, but sometimes it seems like nothing she does will ever satisfy anybody.

4. Not a question but hope you enjoyed today! So glad figure skating is back! Maybe a quick fun question - what was your favorite dance of the day?

aww thank you! hope you did too - i was happy watching LaLa yesterday- the commitment, intensity and how much they changed in just 3 weeks, i just enjoy them as a team so much

C/B and Gr/Pa both had base value of 31.7 and L/B had 31.69. so it was essentially a 3-way tie for highest BV. C/B are getting GOE on another level from literally everyone else here, so Gr/Pa weren't going to catch them. but where they were lower than the other top teams across the board in GOE was in the Choreo RS and their twizzles

Marjo and Zak missed levels on their Midline and PSt in the RD. i would chalk that up in part to them being less trained because of his injuries this summer. plus maybe that performing to the rafters with speed can make you less precise. and mistakes happen- i'm sure they'll be focusing on levels on steps

ever since the judges looked the other way at Madi falling at Worlds, you're right, the criticisms online can make it seem like she can do no right. i'm against telling anyone they should retire, but that had gotten louder since Beijing. and there's the common observation that her skating skills aren't the best - Romain!! even said so in the IAM web series 😬

in person, CB's blades sound high and wispy on the ice - where skaters like HB or Olivia have this deeper consistent rasp/hum as they carve into the ice. you can see the difference in knee action in CB vs HB or HD. but yes she has improved - Evan used to move her around the ice more. she's a stronger skater and athlete than she was. they do skate well in unison, she's a beautiful performer who understands how to use her body and face to project and create pictures. their packaging and programs have improved since the move to IAM - they're also a more mature team in every way. but her biggest strengths aren't in her skating itself

when judging seems to reward a team across the board rather than giving them high marks for what they do well and lower ones for what they don't, it's disappointing. CB and FG get sky high PCS in skating skills, or FG get high marks in Composition when they seem to be getting the message bts that the program needs fixing. anyway, when a team seems favored to the point that their mistakes and weaknesses aren't counted against them as they are for everyone else, people can direct their frustration at the skaters

[royalcordelia]

Summary:  Anne and Gilbert embark on their journeys, but stay close to each other at heart. Courting across 1000 miles isn't easy, but they're more than willing to step up to the task. (A post s3 story).

Notes: Lots of stuff happening and lots of kissing as Anne and Gilbert’s time together comes to a close. Enjoy!

All those months ago, Gilbert hadn’t been lying when he’d told Bash that Winnie was easy to be around, but being around her parents had been an entirely different story. With perfect vividness, he remembered nights after dinners with the Roses that he’d trudged back to Avonlea, more tired than he’d ever been in his life. None of the studying in the world, not even the endless weeks of Delly crying in the middle of the night, could compare to the exhaustion of entertaining people socially higher than you and not crumbling under their expectations. 

But tonight, ascending the marble steps of the Meryton Hotel with Anne on his arm, Gilbert realized that would be exactly what she’d be facing tonight. People would ask her about her country upbringing (“You’re surprisingly elegant for an islander” ) and her family (“ It’s most peculiar to have two last names, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert”).  He knew because he’d spent his first months answering uncomfortable questions of his own. The only difference was that Anne wouldn’t be doing it for herself, but for him. 

He stopped mid-step on the grand staircase. 

It wasn’t too late to turn around and go home. Or to a concert, a nice one where the seats were made of velvet and they’d be able to feel the orchestra’s music inside their chests. Somewhere they could enjoy each other’s company, somewhere they wouldn’t have to be put on display. 

If he was being entirely honest with himself, as oftentimes he wasn’t, maybe he was a bit more nervous for himself. Of course, people would like Anne - lately she had developed a mastery of first impressions. Her own confidence and compassion enchanted everyone she met, but somehow Gilbert wasn’t so sure about himself. Sure, in Avonlea, it was easy to believe he was intelligent, a meaningful contributor to society—everyone knew him there. But here where society was so much bigger, so far out of reach, would he measure up?

“Gil?” Anne called quietly. “There’s nothing to be worried about. They’re going to love you.” 

The light within the hotel was so bright that it turned Anne’s eyes bright blue as it flooded out the open doors. She peered up at him with increasing concern the more he stayed frozen staring at him. 

“Do you feel sick?” she continued, uncertain.

Gilbert only lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her palm for a long second before pulling her to keep moving with him. In front of them, Ron and Christine were crossing the threshold into the grand entrance. The younger, much lovelier, of the Stuarts  watched Gilbert with a strange expression on her face that he wasn’t sure how to interpret. When she caught his glance, she spun around and glided faster past Ron.   

“You’re not usually a man of silence,” Anne commented. 

“Maybe having a creature of such astonishing beauty beside me renders me speechless,” Gilbert replied slyly, causing a pretty rose blush to rise on Anne’s cheeks. 

Anne knew him better than that. “And?” 

“And my thoughts are preoccupied, too,” he admitted. 

“On what?” 

Gilbert turned to her, catching a trace of her sweet perfume. 

“Is this truly a good use of our time together? I barely get to see you anymore.” 

“Gilbert-” 

“Ron and Christine won’t miss us if we disappear. I want to hear more about you, and Queens, and Avonlea. I want to spend our last evening together in your company and not trying to impress a bunch of big-wigs at my school. Let’s go somewhere, let’s have fun!” 

“I’ve already told you about all that, twice , and we have had fun!” Anne replied laughing. “Gilbert, we have our entire lives to go out and explore every inch of the world together. But tonight...tonight is for you to take your next steps toward a bright, magnificent life of helping people.”  

How could he refuse her when her voice was so glorious with hope and pride? Heaving a deep breath to calm his nerves, they made their way into the hotel. 

An awed gasp left Anne’s lips as they took in the brilliance of the party. The ceilings lorded high in the air, supported by corinthian pillars and edged by an ornate marble trim. A small quintet comprised of strings and a grand piano played their opulent songs and the harmonies filled the space high into the flickering chandeliers. 

Gilbert glanced down at Anne, whose grin was the reflection of all the breathless thoughts running through her head. 

“It’s amazing ,” she said simply. They made their way through the crowd of Gilbert’s classmates and distinguished guests, smiling politely at those they passed. 

“I’m glad I get to spend this night with you,” Gilbert commented lowly. “After this, you’ll want to leave me for sunbursts and marble halls.” 

“Don’t be silly, I just want you ,” Anne replied, nudging his side with her elbow. The statement, which had seemed obvious to her, sent a thrill through Gilbert, and instead of encouraging him, was only successful in brightening his eyes with desire. He dove down for a kiss, but she ducked away,  nodding to the gathering of dignified guests congregated in front of them. “Are you ready to forge your connections, Mr. Blythe?” 

Just like that, all the wind was knocked right out of him. Was he ready? Absolutely not. He had to make good impressions and connections. He had to be memorable for the sake of his future, for Anne. He had to. His thoughts were spiraling out of control when a voice interrupted their uncontrollable descent. 

“Ah! Gilbert!” 

The pair turned to find an older gentleman reaching out his hand to Gilbert, another fellow trailing behind him. 

“Dr. Joselin, a pleasure,” Gilbert said politely, catching his professor’s hand and giving it a stiff shake. 

“You country fellows can clean up well, after all,” Dr. Joselin teased, only to be rewarded by a stiff chuckle from Gilbert. “And I see you’ve found yourself a city girl.” Anne nearly pressed her lips together against her correction that To your disappointment, sir, you’ll find that I am completely and utterly nature’s child, and smiled as sweetly as she could. 

“How are you this evening, sir?” she asked.

“Oh, very well, my dear, very well. I just hoped I could steal a moment of Gilbert’s time so that he could share his stance against phrenology with my colleague. He’s trying to get a full opinion, you see.”

“Of course,” Gilbert agreed evenly. 

“I’ll go get us something to drink,” Anne cut in. 

There was something very unlike Gilbert in the way that he walked away, stiff and uncomfortable. She watched him for a few moments before turning over her shoulder to find a waiter. When she returned, two crystal glasses in hand, she found him alone and a bit gray. 

“How was it?” Anne asked, handing him his share of the wine. The dejected man in front of her sighed. 

“I must’ve said something he disagreed with. He interrupted me right in the middle of me telling him about phrenology’s recognition as a pseudoscience, and made a comment about finding engagement somewhere else,” he murmured, almost as if he were afraid someone around him might hear. “Dr. Joselin looked so embarrassed.” 

“Oh, darling, I’m sure it wasn’t you. He seemed like an odd sort of man.” Anne ran her hand down his arm comfortingly, but her touch did little to soothe his troubled eyes. “Better you know so you don’t waste your time on him.” Just then, she caught sight of a familiar face across the room. “Here’s a man I know has good taste!” 

Gilbert followed as Anne lead the way, weaving in and out of people until finally she said, “Dr. Sullivan!” 

The tall man was amongst his peers, though they were standing silently, taking in the splendor of the party. Upon hearing his name, Dr. Sullivan lifted an amused brow with a small smile to match. 

“Ah, come to finally convince me to invest in more suitable literature, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert?” Dr. Sullivan said lightly. 

“Not quite. I was hoping to introduce you to my beau so you could help him invest in suitable literature.” 

Dr. Sullivan spared a glance at Gilbert, waiting for the young man to speak up, but was met with silence. Anne squeezed his arm and glanced at him. The message took a second too longer to register, and when it did, Gilbert was stammering, “Oh! Uh, Gilbert Blythe, sir.” 

The lines of Gilbert’s shoulders were straight and tense. He shoved a stiff hand out, somewhat ungracefully, and gave Dr. Sullivan a brisk handshake. Sullivan’s colleagues exchanged a look that Anne hoped escaped Gilbert’s notice. 

“How are you finding your studies, Mr. Blythe? It must be hard to be so far away from home,” Sullivan asked. 

“My studies are going well,” Gilbert answered. Anne’s brows furrowed at his vapid, flat tone. “I’m fortunate enough not to suffer any homesickness. I’m solely focused on my coursework, and only that.” 

“You have no diversions for pleasure outside of school?” Dr. Sullivan wondered. 

“None whatsoever,” Gilbert replied almost too quickly. From where Anne was standing, she could feel the situation slowly spiralling out of control. 

“I hear you’re a medical student. What special topics capture your attention, then?” 

Anne smiled in pride, knowing that Gilbert had such an interesting answer to this question. She had letters full of his thoughts about upcoming vaccines and mind-boggling breakthroughs in pathology. His knowledge was nearly comprehensive, so it was to Anne’s utter dismay when his reply was an almost uninterested, “I like all topics, sir.” 

Dr. Sullivan nodded politely, but his eyes revealed he was unimpressed with what he saw. A man at his side leaned to mutter something in his ear, and he turned back to Anne. 

“It’s about time we find our seats at the table. Good evening, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert.”

And then they were gone, leaving Gilbert staring at the floor with a disheartened dullness in his eyes. Anne’s hand moved over his back, rubbing a warm circle, but he shirked away. 

“Gil, it’s not so bad-” 

“Let’s go home,” Gilbert interrupted. Anne’s face dropped, and he rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. “I know you got all dressed up, but I’d rather leave before I make a fool out of myself. Again. Seems to be a trend lately.” 

“If that’s what you want,” was Anne’s dispirited reply. “But I don’t have to be a medical student to diagnose the situation.”

“That I’m in over my head with these people?” 

“ No! Just the opposite!” Anne surged forward, grabbing his hands and squeezing tightly. “The people here are drawn together not because they want to prove they’re the  most driven or because they want to show off how smart they are. They’re here because they’re alike in their passion . You have that passion, too. Right here.” She patted his chest. “But you’re keeping it locked up. You’re putting on a stale, disinterested version of yourself that isn’t real because you think it’ll make them like you more. It’s having the opposite effect, darling.” 

“I thought I was being professional,” he admitted.

“You’ve already got that mastered without trying to fake it. Just be yourself, love, and I promise the night will go better.” 

“I don’t know, Anne…” 

She placed a hand on his cheek, and he kissed it, eyes melancholy.

“Gilbert, you are the most intelligent, brave, refreshing, stimulating, exceptional, impressive-” 

“ Anne. ”

“- amazing person I know, and I am so proud of you.” She poked his nose and took a step back. “I just don’t want you to give up so soon. Give it one more go, and if you really aren’t having a nice time, we’ll go. Alright?”

Gilbert swayed forward, like he wanted to kiss her but thought better of it. Instead, he only gave a small smile and nodded. “Alright.” 

They ambled throughout the room, pausing periodically to greet upperclassmen Gilbert was acquainted with. One after another, each interaction just got better and better. Anne observed it all with a prideful swell in heart, offering a few thoughts of her own here and there, much to Gilbert’s delight. The approval of his peers seemed to stoke up the fire of excitement in his eyes. A short time later, all the pretense that he’d managed to fabricate had dissipated, leaving behind the real genuine Gilbert Blythe in its wake. 

Anne bit back her grin as Gilbert all but strutted across the floor in his newfound confidence. As they drew nearer to Dr. Joselin, Anne tried to steer Gilbert away, not wanting to ruin his improved disposition, but his ears had already twitched to the conversation, and he approached it without hesitation. 

“Dr. Joselin, is this talk of that Montreal trial on aphthous stomatitis? ” he interjected with ease. 

“Ah, Mr. Blythe, just the lad I was hoping to run into.” To Anne’s surprise, this response was not accompanied by any evident insincerity. 

Another one of the students seized Gilbert’s hand, shaking it with vigor. Without a spare look at Anne, the young man grinned eagerly and said, “Gilbert, Dr. Joselin was just sharing your review on that study. Do you really suppose the results could have been invalid?”

“It’s a strong claim, I know, but with such a small population size, the results can hardly be generalized to the Canadian public. Had they interviewed the participants on their eating habits, their sexual behavior, even their home environments, I’d be more inclined to trust the validity of the results. The list of confounds was infinite, yet the clinicians acknowledged none!” The deeper Gilbert dove into dismantling the study, the less Anne comprehended of the conversation. But when it was over, there was a rosy flush of pride lighting underneath his scarce freckles and a delight that Anne hadn’t seen in his eyes the whole night. 

As they walked away, Anne pressed herself onto her toes and leaned toward his ear. He bent it to her as she asked, “What in heaven’s name is aphtho...alphath…”

“ Aphthous stomatitis, ” Gilbert corrected sweetly. “It’s the medical term for a sore on your lip.” 

Anne hummed in understanding. “And would you diagnose me with aphthous stomatitis, Dr. Blythe?” 

His ochre eyes drifted down to her lips. With a shuddering breath, he licked his own before he could stop himself. 

“No, I think your diagnosis is not sores, but an irresistible sweetness.” To prove his point, he placed a hasty kiss on the corner of her lips. Anne wondered if he could feel the heat emanating off of her cheeks at his coy attentions, and nudged him away playfully. When Gilbert pulled back, his gaze met something across the room that made his jaw tighten. Without preamble, he declared, “I have to apologize to Dr. Sullivan.” 

It was because Anne said “Yes, I believe you must” that Gilbert felt even more sure he had chosen - as she would say - the right lifemate. Anyone else would’ve told him, No, Gilbert, he’s probably already forgotten. But Anne understood what had to be done if he was to remember this night with any sort of satisfaction or pride.

Across the room, Ron was wiggling his eyebrows at her, gesturing her over with a short wave of his hand. Anne sighed dramatically. “It appears I’m likely being summoned, likely for discussions of philosophy.” She paused, shaking his fingers in her own, before saying, “I’ll be cheering for you.”

Then she was disappearing into the crowd, the red of her hair blending with the raining candlelight. 

*

Dr. Sullivan sat by himself against the wall like a moth who has shunned its lifelong work of chasing the moon, contrary to his earlier remark that he was departing for the dinner table. His even eyes observed the dance floor with a light interest, but the content of his thoughts was miles away. It was only when two shiny shoes appeared in his view just before him that he lifted his head up and met eyes with Gilbert. The boy’s shoulders were looser and the stern stiffness of his brow was missing.  Dr. Sullivan did not have to be a PhD to surmise the cause of the change. 

“Rejoined the world of the living?” the older man asked casually. Gilbert laughed on a somewhat embittered scoff, and settled into the seat next to the broad shouldered professor. “No doubt you have your young lady to thank.” 

“No doubt I do. She sees everything with her own eyes, and no one else’s. I admire her unique perspective of the world, and am thankful when it helps me see things differently.” Sullivan made a sound of agreement in the back of his throat. Clenching his fists to ground his thoughts, Gilbert continued. “I don’t pretend to be as fetching or as interesting as Anne, but I’m not the tasteless person you saw earlier who completely lacked a backbone.”

“I’m aware,”  Dr. Sullivan admitted. “That is the test of events like these. Do you come merely assimilate and try to mirror what you think you’re observing around you? Or do you rise to the occasion and add yourself into the discord without compromising your own integrity? It’s sink or swim, Mr. Blythe, yet I think you’re doing just fine. I knew you must be a fine student as soon as Emily Oak said so.” 

“I’m glad you think so, sir.” 

There was a moment passed in silence where Gilbert could not fathom whether or not Dr. Sullivan’s thoughts had moved on, or if he was quietly altering his judgments. He almost jumped when the man finally spoke. 

“Favorite poet, Gilbert?” 

Without hesitation, “Whitman.” 

For the first time that Gilbert had seen, Sullivan’s smile stretched across his entire face and he nodded approvingly. 

“Ah, and there lies the rub. ‘Henceforth, I ask not good fortune, I myself am good fortune .’ Adequate on nights like these, no?” 

At first, Gilbert didn’t know what he meant, but as they settled into a comfortable discussion about the sacrilegious themes in “Song of Myself,” Sullivan’s meaning settled over him. Had he spent the party with a rake up his backside and listlessly trying to engage his peers, he’d have asked for good fortune, yet found no return. I myself am good fortune , Gilbert repeated in his head. What it meant tonight was I am enough. He’d lost sight of it, but now that it was regained, the vastness of the future didn’t seem so daunting. 

Many minutes later, Gilbert skimmed the room for Anne’s red hair or Ron’s lofty head, but the search was fruitless. Not even Christine was anywhere to be found.

“I apologize, sir. I’m supposed to be escorting Anne this evening, yet I’ve done a poor job of it. I should go find her.” 

“Very well,”  agreed Dr. Sullivan. “You should know, Mr. Blythe, that just because I’m an English professor doesn’t mean my office door is closed to medical students. Should you need someone to talk to as you rage through your freshman year, please don’t hesitate to stop by.” 

“I appreciate that, sir. Thank you!” Gilbert replied sincerely. He nodded once, then left Dr. Sullivan to his quiet solitude. Yet, even as he departed, he could still hear the professor’s lyrical thoughts emanating from the corner - “To drive free, to love free, to court destruction with taunts. One brief house of madness and joy!”

*

When Anne snuck a peek over her shoulder at Gilbert and Dr. Sullivan, she found easy smiles on both their faces and a tender bloom of pride blossomed in her chest. The more Anne became acquainted with Gilbert’s heart, the more she could see its warmth emanating around him like a constant crown. Not all the gentlemen in the room could claim having such a vast soul, one that had the capacity to love and learn with such brilliance. Perhaps the almighty had been up to something after all when he tied her to Gilbert. 

She let a lovesick smile dimple her cheeks, when suddenly her hands were seized. Ron was before her squeezing her fingers in his with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“It’s time,” was all he said. Fred was at his side, a wooden instrument case wrapped under his arm, and he shared Ron’s conspiratorial smile. 

“Time for what?”

“Remember that tradition I was telling you about? The one in the basement?”

“Yes…” Anne replied, interest piqued.

“The festivities are about to begin, and I wanted to know if you’d like to join us.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly!” Anne replied immediately.  “I came to support Gilbert, and I know if I say I want to go to this party, he’ll just end up following.” 

“He can come,” Ron added in.

“He’s supposed to be making connections.” She squeezed Ron’s fingers before dropping his hand. “You all go and have fun. I’m having a splendid time where I am. Promise!” 

Ron pursed his lips, his shoulders slumping down in dramatic disappointment.

“As you wish, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert. I’ll come find you before the end of the night so we all can walk home together.” 

When Ron and Fred were gone, Anne scanned the room, wondering if she’d find some long lost friend in the sea of faces and finery. Gilbert was gesturing in circles in front of him, explaining something with a fierce conviction. She wondered if she ought to go and silently impose herself at his side, but hated the idea of interrupting him unnecessarily. Then her eyes fell on Christine. 

Just one look at Christine told Anne that underneath her silken black hair and throat of jewels, Christine was decidedly not having a good time. Her lips were downturned in a bitter frown, and a line crinkled between her brows. There were a few fellows beside her who seemed to be rambling on about this or that, nothing which amused Christine. Another young man joined the small circle, and when he lingered a kiss on her knuckles, the color drained from her face. 

Before Anne knew what she was doing, she was marching up to Christine, mind set and hands clasped at her side. 

“Miss Stuart, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Anne announced. The taller gentlemen jumped at the intrusion, grumbling when they were forced to back up and make room for her. “There’s something you must see. Come now.” 

“We were talking!” a fellow objected as Anne snuck her arm into Christine’s and tugged her away.

“Excellent understanding of the past tense, sir!” 

Christine was stiff beside her until they were out of sight, upon which she let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

“Some of those gentlemen seemed to think I was on the menu,” she admitted. “I was  relying on Fred to fend them off, but he disappeared.” 

“He ran off with your brother to the party in the basement.” Anne replied.

“He’s supposed to be my escort,” Christine said bitterly. “It’s not like I wanted to come with him in the first place.” 

Gilbert was supposed to take me - Christine didn’t have to say it but Anne still heard it. She wondered if Christine agreed to still attend the event in order to save face, hoping that Gilbert wouldn’t notice the real reason she wanted to stay home. Still, no matter her reasons for coming, it didn’t warrant being abandoned by her escort. 

“Well, we ought to go tell him so,” Anne decided fiercely. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Okay, maybe not. Fred’s sensitive. But you should still have a good time tonight, regardless of your escort’s presence. How about I take you down to the party? There’s supposed to be music, dancing, drinks. We can get you situated, and then I’ll come back up and find Gilbert.” 

“It’s for the servants. They won’t take kindly to my presence there.” 

Across the room, the gentlemen they’d disposed of seemed to be watching them with hawkish eyes. One brave soul began to trek across the room toward them, dragging a tired groan out of Christine. 

“They won’t even notice you. Don’t you worry,” Anne said hurriedly. She wove their arms back together and rushed down the marble corridor. Christine’s dainty heels clacked against the floor as they hurried, and she nearly fell forward. When Anne reached out and caught her, a sputtered laugh snuck out of Christine’s lips.

“You’re alright?”

“I’ve never run in a gown before!” Christine laughed.

“Neither have I!” Then, remembering the day she’d seen Winifred in Charlottetown corrected, “Okay, I have, but it was only once!”

They followed the harmonics of lively music to a thin doorway leading down to the basement of the hotel. From the top of the stairs, they could hear the roar of laughter, cheering, and chatter. Much to Anne’s surprise, Christine was the first to descend toward it. They came upon a wide room with low ceilings and golden light. It was filled with bright red faces and lined with crates that had been shoved aside to make room for the dancing. 

“My God,” Christine breathed out, though Anne barely heard it over the noise. 

In the front of the room, some of the smaller crates were pushed all together with a large sheet of wood laid on top to form a makeshift stage. Fred was among the musicians fixed on it. He had discarded his jacket on a chair, but was still sweating through his white shirt as his fingers danced over his fiddle at rapid speed. Ron was nearby, stomping his feet to the quick rhythm of the jig. One of his hands was on the knee of the blonde fellow beside him, who returned the touch with an arm around Ron’s shoulder. When he caught sight of his sister and Anne wide-eyed in the corner, Ron shot up to meet them. 

“You brought my sister?” he stammered. 

“Fred left her, what was she supposed to do!?” Anne said, trying her best to be heard over the music and cheering. 

“Think you can handle it, Chris?” Ron answered, uncertain.

“Better than you expect, I think.” 

“And the two of you..?” 

“Have sorted out our differences,” Anne said evenly. She knocked his shoulder with a light tap of her knuckles. “How much longer do you intend to herd us in the doorway?” 

Ron’s brows shot up. 

“Come on in,” he chuckled. Christine nodded primly as she strode past him. She’d only taken a few steps when a short girl with ear length hair burst from the center of dancing bodies and latched hold of Christine’s hand. Christine turned back to Anne, a look of panic on her face. 

“It’s alright! Go dance!” Anne encouraged. It only took one sheepish smile for the girl to spin Christine around, and they disappeared into the crowd. 

“Come Anne, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Ron said lowly. He led her through the only clear path in the room to a raggety table. The man he’d been sitting with before looked up at her through long blonde lashes - easily, without judgment. His features were that of any prince in the Grimm fairy tales, so startlingly beautiful that Anne felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “This is Adam...my uh, well, you know. Adam this is my roommate’s sweetheart from PEI.” 

Adam’s smile was small and relaxed. He shook Anne’s hand with geniality but said nothing. 

“A pleasure to meet you. Ron speaks of you with such esteem,” sputtered Anne. 

A hint of insecurity rose within her the same way it might if she met George Eliot or Jane Austen. Would he think her simple and foolish, a sixteen-year-old girl here to drink and dance with adults? But the kindness in Adam’s eyes suggested otherwise. Finally he said, “Thank you.” But Anne got the impression that he was thanking her for more than just the polite compliment. She smiled in return, contagious and sweet. 

“It’s been so lovely to drop by, but I really did want to save Christine from those awful vultures-for-men. I ought to go find Gilbert. Dinner will be starting soon.” 

“Stay for a song,” Adam suggested. Anne hesitated, finding no help in Ron’s eager face. 

“One song. I won’t leave Gilbert alone upstairs.” 

That was enough to satisfy Ron, who tugged another crate for Anne to sit on. She settled down beside him, and found herself immediately enraptured by the sight before her. The band played fast paced folk tunes that kept the hearts of the dancers racing, but each jig and reel only powered the dancers through each measure with energy. It was a mess of wild hair, rolled up sleeves, rosy cheeks, and somehow, it was one of the most beautiful things Anne had ever seen. Dances like the “Dashing White Sergeant” may have their benefit with the right partner, but this... this was self-expression and freedom. Without knowing it, Anne had begun to sing along to the familiar tune. 

“You sing too?” Ron asked incredulously. The song stopped abruptly in her throat.

“Not really. My best friend back home is the real musician. I just love a good song,” Anne replied sheepishly. 

“Your voice is beautiful,” Adam added. “You should go up and sing something. I know the band was disappointed they couldn’t find a singer for tonight.” 

“I doubt I would know any of their songs!” Anne objected.

“You knew this one.” 

She squirmed in her seat, hoping Gilbert would appear in the door and save her. 

“It’s so kind of you to suggest it, but really—”

It was too late. Ron had taken Anne by the arm and tugged her in front of the stage. 

“This young lady is a singer.” 

The banjo player peered down at Anne with obvious musical interest. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he said. 

Anne spared a desperate glance at Fred, who merely let out a hearty guffaw and helped the banjo player lift her up by her underarms to stand on the stage. Anne stumbled, eyes widening as the dancers watched the scene unfold. 

“It’s alright, Anne. What songs do you know?” Fred muttered in her ear.

“...I’ve been learning Scottish songs. For my heritage. Some Irish ones too. Canadian classics too, I suppose,” she answered quietly. “I really don’t like this, Fred.” 

“Relax. Gilbert says you’re a story-teller.” 

“Well, yes, but—”

Before she could finish, Fred began to string together a melody on the fiddle. The guitar behind her jumped in, strumming a familiar set of chords. Fred lifted a brow at her, an unspoken You know this one? To Anne’s dismay, she nodded and after a moment began to sing.

“‘Oh, rise up my darling and come with me

I want to go with you and leave this country

To leave my father’s dwelling, this house and the land.’

So away goes Jamie with his love in his arms.” 

Anne’s instincts had taken over before she could stop them. Every story she’d told in class, to the bird’s in the trees, every song she had sung to the forest air had prepared her to let loose her inhibitions. This was just another story to tell—a man captured by his love’s father, his love desperately trying to plead his innocence in court, a fate doomed from the start. Anne forgot she was singing and dancing on a stage that was seconds away from falling apart. Rather, she was whisked away with the tale, desperately trying to rescue her “Bold Jamie.” 

“The judge says ‘this young girl being tender in youth

If Jamie is guilty she will tell the truth.’

It was here a familiar face appeared from the stairwell at the back of the room. Gilbert had his hands stuck in his pockets, the way he always did when he wasn’t sure what to do with them. He seemed to search the room for something, before his eyes fell on her, dancing on the stage. Anne laughed as she sang the next lines, a grin turning her face to golden light. He smiled back, shaking his head with surprise.

Then the radiant beauty before him did stand

“‘Oh I'm happy to see you, my bold Irish lad!’”

Anne was only slightly aware of Gilbert finding his way through the crowd to the front of the stage. His eyes were hazy and lovesick as he watched her move and sing and let strands of hair fall from their pins. Occasionally, she’d flash another small smile down at him, and he’d feel it resonate down to the soles of his feet. As Fred played the last notes of the song, Anne fixed her gaze on her love and was thankful the song had only been a story. Her own bold man was here before her, very much not in jail and very much hers to adore. 

Behind her, another upbeat song filled the air. Anne placed her hands on Gilbert’s shoulders, biting her lip at the ease with which he lowered her back to the ground. They were inches apart, Anne’s chest still heaving from her song. 

“I didn’t mean to leave for so long,” Anne apologized lightly. Gilbert shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from her sticky face. 

“I’m the one that left you alone. You were right, Dr. Sullivan is a kindred spirit, after all.” Their explanations were cut short when a dancing couple all but crashed into them. They scurried to the wall, the only place where no arms or legs could hit them. Out of public eye, Gilbert bent down and pressed a kiss against Anne’s smiling cheek.

“I didn’t know you sang that well,” he admitted. Anne shrugged.

“It certainly was very fun to try! One minute I was telling Christine to go off and have fun, and the next minute I was being lifted on stage.”  

“I wish I could have seen the whole thing.” His hands found hers and he caressed her skin gently. “Are you hungry? They’re starting dinner.”

Anne laughed and looked around the room. 

“After all this, I could use some sustenance. And some quiet time to hear about your conversation with Dr. Sullivan.”  

After a quick nod to Ron, they were heading back upstairs, the sound behind them turning into a mere mumble in the distance. Anne was glad to breathe some fresh air that didn’t smell of sweat and whisky. Beside her, Gilbert had fixed her with a strange expression, one that was nearly smiling, but also deeply distressed.

“What is it, love?” Anne asked.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.” 

“That’s a whole day away. There’s plenty of time to…” 

Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of something several feet ahead of them. Gilbert traced her gaze to another couple pressed up against the floral-papered wall of the hotel. The silhouette of a woman was pressed beneath that of her lover, who held her flush against him. Perhaps the strange thing which had stolen Anne’s breath was the way the man had his face buried at his lady’s pulse point along the hollow of her neck, luxuriating there for a long moment before slowly moving his way along the skin. Gilbert felt his own face burning. He’d seen kissing before, but not quite like that. Judging from Anne’s reaction, neither had she. 

It looked really… nice. Different, but nice. 

As they passed, Anne rushed into a new conversation, desperately trying to avoid his eyes. Is she embarrassed? he wondered. Is she scared I’ll kiss her like that?

Anne on her part was violently trying to keep all thoughts of what she had seen from her head, but found it was difficult to think of anything but that. Her fingers touched her throat, but she tore them away before she could imagine what it would feel like if Gilbert kissed her the way she’d seen. Would he even want to? Her mouth rambled of the strange men she’d fended off from Christine, but Gilbert was smart enough to know her mind was somewhere else. So, for some reason, he said the very first thing that came to his mind. 

“Hey, Anne?” It cut off her thoughts and she snapped her lips shut. 

“Hmm?” 

“I love you.” 

Anne laughed, tugging Gilbert’s arm closer to her chest to nuzzle her head against his shoulder. 

“I’d like to see anyone try to love you as much as I do!” she declared. Anne tried not to think about how this time tomorrow she'd nearly be arrived back home to the Blackmore house. The Sunset House would be a thousand miles away, her soft-hearted man kept safely inside of it, and she would be missing his warmth at her side. For now, she grounded herself in the present moment, ran a finger down his handsome jaw, and tried to prepare herself for what might be the most lavish dinner she’d ever attend.

*

Some time later, their bellies were full of delicious food and the guests of the banquet began to file out. Leaning tiredly onto Gilbert, Anne wondered if this was the first in a very long future of attending events like these. If he became a renowned doctor like he planned to, he’d receive all sorts of invitations to more banquets, conferences, meetings. On one hand, Anne looked forward to it with everything she had in her. On the other hand, Anne was very ready to lay beside her love and get some rest. 

The streets of Toronto at night were mostly lit by shed candlelight from its surrounding streets. Ron was in light spirits as he led the way, a blissful spring in his steps as he hummed “Bold Jamie.” Gilbert had leaned in close to whisper, “He’s a night owl and an alcoholic.” But Anne knew the kiss she’d seen Adam quickly plant on him had something to do with his chipper mood as well. 

She turned her face to the moonlight and felt the crisp night air lay smooth against her cheeks. Oh, if only nights this wonderful were eternal , she thought. No one in the world could be unhappy then. 

They’d long since taken Fred to his boarding house, next planning to bring Christine back home. She was quiet in front of Gilbert and Anne, and had said nothing about her time at the party. When they arrived at the Stuart house, she was the silhouette of Juliette Capulet on a Shakespearean doorstep. Without warning called out, “Actually, Gilbert?” 

Gilbert couldn’t make out Christine’s expression in the darkness. A strangeness had taken over her voice and it was with uncertainty that he replied, “Yes?” 

“Might I speak with you...for a moment? I won’t keep you long.” 

Gilbert’s eyes fell on Anne, who squeezed his hand gently. “I’ll walk slowly with Ron for a bit.” 

He wasn’t able to make it any further up the walkway when Christine began to speak. 

“You’re probably waiting for an apology,” she rushed out. 

“An apology? For what?” Gilbert asked.

“Anne… didn’t tell you?” 

Gilbert stuffed his hands in his pockets at the growing awkwardness radiating off of Christine. Instead of an answer, he shrugged and shook his head. A shadowy cloud crept over the moon, shielding his sight from the embarrassed flush warming Christine’s cheeks. She took a deep breath.

“When you offered to take me to the banquet all those weeks ago, I thought you were doing it because you liked me.” Gilbert’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. “And I was really ...elated, I suppose, because, well…I’ve been in love with you since I first met you.” 

“Christine, you don’t have to say it. Or apologize. I must’ve just assumed you knew about Anne. I should be the one apologizing. It’d never be my intention to hurt you,” Gilbert responded truthfully.

“No, you don’t understand. I knew you were courting someone . It just didn’t make a difference until today.”  Christine grabbed the handle of her front door, squeezing until her knuckles were white. “I was so jealous of Anne when I met her. Then this afternoon, I said dreadful things to her, things I’m not brave enough to repeat to you. I insulted her in every way I could.” 

Gilbert’s lips drew thin. 

“Oh.”

“She didn’t let me get away with it, of course,” continued Christine. “But she didn’t despise me for it either. Anyone else would have. Her and I talked. I apologized to her, and now I’m apologizing to you.” 

Silence fell between them as he shifted his weight. 

“If Anne forgave you, I’ll have to too,” he said half-heartedly. What else was there to say? The thought of someone being cruel to Anne on his account made his blood boil, but Anne had already won the battle, it was all over with. Yet he felt an increasing distaste for Christine the longer he stood there, so he gave a small nod. “Goodnight, Chris.” 

Anne was not hard to catch up with. Gilbert found her shortly ahead of the Stuart house, humming along to Ron’s off-key tune and touching any flower heads that grew tall along the pathway. She didn’t startle when he appeared beside her, only let out a blissful sigh.

“I love to smell flowers in the dark," she said. "You get hold of their soul then.”

Gilbert let out a sigh of his own as he wrapped an arm around her and leaned his head onto hers. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Anne smiled knowingly.

“I didn’t think there was anything to tell. Sometimes we have to just return to our natural roots. Like mountain cats, we had it out bitterly and violently, and once it was over, we were...oh, I don’t know, hunting together?” 

“Hunting together?” Gilbert chuckled.

“I cannot be expected to hold a decent metaphor so late in the evening. But you understand what I mean.” Anne hoped it would be enough for him to drop the topic. It wasn’t. 

“What did she say to you?” 

“What good would it do you if you know?” 

“None, I suppose,” he stated unhappily. “She really didn’t hurt your feelings too badly?” 

“Maybe for a moment. But look here, Gilbert.” She took his hand, kissed it, then lifted it up to twirl around underneath it. “I’m a young lady dreadfully in love, exploring a foregin city with the most handsome man I’ve ever seen by my side. I intend to kiss him very soundly when we settle back home, and expect each kiss will be reciprocated ten-fold! Jealous girls can say what they will, I have won the grand prize!”

“You’ve got it all wrong, Anne. You are the grand prize.” 

Anne of a year ago might’ve crinkled her nose at his boldness, and declared that she was not a prize to be won. But the Anne of today knew that Gilbert didn’t have to be reminded of respect, so she nuzzled herself back into his side and began to hum a new tune. 

When they were home, the tune still lingered in the back of Anne’s mind. She sat on the edge of Gilbert’s bed, scanning her eyes along his bare bookshelf to catalog the few books he did bring with him, and braided her hair. Gilbert himself was combing his wild curls in a mirror, or at least was supposed to be—when Anne looked up at him, she found him watching her in the reflection. 

“What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly.

“Truthfully?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“What we saw in the corridor at the hotel.” 

“Really?” she squeaked. 

For some reason, this sent a thrill of delight down Anne’s spine. Off-handedly she thought that Gilbert’s shoulders looked so strong when they weren’t being swallowed by his jacket. 

“I’ve never seen anyone kiss like that before. It seems too…” 

“Intimate?”

“Maybe.” 

They stared at each other nervously, a budding fire of desire tugging at each of their hearts. Then, without being prompted, Gilbert threw his hands up in surrender. 

“It’s just that, you’re so beautiful, you know?” he exploded. “You’re gorgeous, and sitting there with your neck exposed, and the moon is out, and—”

“The moon?” Anne chuckled, face red. “What’s the moon have to do with it?” 

“It just makes you look—” Gilbert let out an exasperated sigh. “And you have no idea.” 

He was right. Anne barely followed what he was talking about. “Alright, then tell me.” 

Gilbert’s own cheeks were growing hot now. 

“I really would like to kiss you like that someday,” he admitted quietly. Anne bit her tongue against a gasp, trying miserably to hide her own hopeful desperation. 

“Someday?” she questioned timidly. “Why not now?” 

It was Gilbert’s turn to squeak. “Now?” 

Anne nodded. 

Her breath was short as Gilbert nervously set down the comb and crept toward her. Without thinking about it, Anne uncrossed her legs and let her arms fall down at her side. Gilbert’s eyes glistened in the low candlelight— half wrought with confidence, half shaking. He sat on the bed beside her, brushing some loose hair away from her hair. Anne wondered if she’d ever get used to feeling so desired by him, as if she really was the grand prize among women. He leaned forward and Anne’s breath caught in anticipation.

Then, he stopped.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admitted almost bitterly. Anne smiled easily, lifting his chin back up to her face. 

“Then why don’t you start with what you know?” 

With that, she captured his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him flush against her. Gilbert’s hands fell to her side and he let out a soft breath. She was soft in just her nightgown, the way women were, the rigid boning of her corset gone for the day. They kissed like that for a few moments, long enough that every ounce of Gilbert’s self-consciousness fell by the wayside. When he was brave enough, he broke off of her mouth and trailed his lips from her cheek down to the underside of her jaw, and eventually her neck.

It was euphoria to the highest degree. Anne shot an arm out to hold herself up, but when Gilbert sucked gently at her collarbone, the arm went limp and they fell backwards. Anne laid flat against the bed, peering up at Gilbert with adoration. Her braid had fallen beside her face, and the sleeve of her nightgown had crept just barely down her arm. For a split moment, he considered helping her up, but then she smiled at him and all that was left was his utter ruination. He bent back down, done with experimenting. Instead, he intended to kiss all of his love into the pulse point of Anne’s throat so that it would seep into her veins and reach all of her. She didn’t stop him when his lips found the borderline of her collar and chest. 

“You have freckles here too,” he muttered blissfully, tasting her sweet skin and inhaling her perfume. 

Without thinking, Anne clutched the fabric of his shirt and said, “I have freckles everywhere.” 

Gilbert ceased his ministrations, freezing above her. He planted one more kiss to the corner of her lips and laid down at her side. In the silence, he forced himself to think of anything other than all the places Anne could have freckles. Time began to move at real speed again for Anne, who slowly roused to reality. 

“How was that?” she heard him say eventually. Then, sparked with an idea, she propped herself onto her elbow. 

“Would you like to know?”  

His eyes turned wide, and whatever self control he had left evaporated. After he gave a nod of consent, Anne pushed gently on his chest to get him flat on his back. She’d been attuned to every way he’d kissed her, and she replicated it effortlessly. The moment her lips met his skin, he heaved a heavy sigh. His fingers found their way to her hair, and he contemplated undoing his braid and letting her loose auburn locks fall over him. 

“I’ve always liked your chin,” she commented, pressing a kiss to it before moving back to the sensitive part of his collarbone.

“I’ve always liked you ,” he replied breathlessly, desperately. 

“I haven’t always liked you, but I’m warming up to it,” Anne teased. Below her, Gilbert was a moment away from begging for mercy. 

Suddenly, the door swung open and Anne jumped up. Gilbert’s hazy vision made out Ron standing in the doorway, jaw dropped to the floor. He knew they were a sight to behold—messy hair, red cheeks, swollen lips—but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Anne pressed her lips together against a laugh, and helped Gilbert sit up.

“Can we help you?” Gilbert asked, annoyed.

“Gilbert Blythe, you saucy man!” Ron exclaimed, shocked. 

“This from you! You know how many times I’ve heard you sneak girls home like I wouldn’t hear you?”

“That’s me, though. You’re... you! ” 

“Goodnight Ron!” 

“Not so fast there, lover-boy. I came to say goodbye to Anne. I’ll be dead asleep when she leaves for her train.” 

Much to Ron’s delight, Anne jumped out of the bed and gave Ron a tight squeeze. 

“Good luck with Adam,” she whispered. 

Ron shook her around like a rag doll, before letting her free. 

“Come back whenever you’d like. I mean it! This fellow is miserable when he’s homesick.” 

“I will, I will! Thank you for being an excellent host and making a delicious breakfast.” 

“Oh, you’re most welcome. Sorry again about my sister.” Anne shook her head, waving the comment aside. “Well, see you soon, Anne.” 

They were nearly rid of him—at least in Gilbert’s mind—until Ron poked his head through the door one last time.

“Try to maintain some semblance of propriety under my roof, Gilbert.” 

Anne’s laughter followed him until he had shut his own bedroom door behind him. Finally alone, Gilbert turned to Anne and gave her a sad smile.

“We should probably get some sleep. You have a big trip tomorrow,” he said. 

“You hated being kissed that much?” Anne teased, but Gilbert could hear the barest hint of honesty in the question. 

“Quite the opposite. I think any more and I’d be a dead man. Too much happiness is the strongest weapon.” 

Anne chuckled as she crawled underneath the soft blankets. When Gilbert was settled beside her, he leaned over and kissed her cheek one last time. Anne turned to her side toward the window where she looked at the moon making faces down at her. She felt a hand come to her waist, and pulled it all the way across her. That was how she fell asleep, praying that nights could continue forever in the warm embrace of the person she loved most. 

~~~*~~~

I hope you enjoyed! ♥ Thanks for reading!! Below are those individuals who asked to be tagged upon updates. If you’d like to add your name to the list or remove it, please let me know!

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[lexidanger]

My TLJ (way longer than expected) analysis/rant/review

DISCLAIMER: I work for Hasbro but knew NOTHING behind the scenes for this movie like I did for TFA, so I didn’t have any outside influence...also

SPOILERS GALORE, IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THIS MOVIE I SUGGEST SEEING IT FIRST ESPECIALLY IF YOU’RE A SW FAN

I honestly have a lot of mixed feelings about this movie, because while there were things I absolutely adored in it, but there were also choices made that I really still can’t wrap my head around and ultimately have left me pretty disappointed, I’m not going to go over every little thing but if you have a question about how I felt about a certain character/scene etc just shoot me an ask and i’ll rant at you there. Anyways I’m gonna start with the good shit since I might get a tad ranty with the bad

THE GOOD

The opening sequence- The opening scenes were phenomenal imo, that was absolutely the way to start off the movie, It honestly held a lot of that SW nostalgia and felt really great action/tone wise, it pulled you in like a good hook should.

Leia- So i’m legit a huge emotional baby when it comes to stuff I love, I was already crying as soon as the opening crawl hit, but it wasn’t until they showed Leia the first time that both me and the girl next to me started sobbing (she turned to me and offered some tissues saying she made sure to bring a bunch so it was nice to have some emotional solidarity) But anyways Leia was great and i’m beyond happy with how they handled her which leads me to my next point…

LEIA USING THE FORCE- Everyone in the theater was crushed when she was thrown out into space, and as soon as the shot closed in on her body and she began to use the Force to bring herself back, you could hear the sigh of relief and amazement come from the crowd (as well as the sniffles because everyone was crying at this point) and it was such a magical moment to see her finally use the Force in a tangible way and shut up the fanboys who thought she wasn’t Force Sensitive. And speaking of one half of the twins...

Luke- As always Mark is an absolute delight and gift to this role, and it was so nice to see him back on screen again. A lot of people are crying out about how this movie “””””ruined him”””” by showing his more grey morality (THAT HES ALWAYS HAD B T W) but even as a dark sider I’ve always adored Luke and his views and he made me super proud in this movie. I’m honestly not ready for people to start demonizing him for "almost killing their precious Ben bby uwu” because again that was a moment with a lot of complexity on both sides that I think could bring up a lot of great conversations about Luke’s trauma in the war and wanting to prevent the loss of billions of lives.

Also as a side note I just want to say how heartwarming it was to see Luke reunited with R2, the moment he recognizes him the bitter old facade melts away and we see that sweet excited boy from Tatooine when he gets to talk to his best friend again after so long.

I’m so so sad to see him go, but honestly I couldn’t think of a better way for him to go out, I’m glad it was done in such a peaceful way (except maybe him actually going to Crait and pulling an Obi proper but thats a whole other issue)

Snoke- I adored Snoke, plain and simple. The few scenes he was in he commanded attention and I was honestly captivated by Serkis’ skills as a character actor once again. The CG work done on him was remarkable, his personality was actually very enjoyable and I really wish we got to see more of his Force mastery, it’s so rare we get to see it controlled on that grand of a scale and so effortlessly too (For those of you who read Darth Plagueis you know the difficulty that comes with using the Force on someone over hologram/long distance, so it was definitely a treat to see that). The potential of this character is remarkable and if anyone involved with SW media is smart they will tap into it and release more content with him ASAP

Rey’s Parentage- As someone who was an avid Rey Palpatine theory supporter, I just want to say how glad I am that Rey’s parentage proved to be of no significance, because in a way it still holds kind of what I wanted to see from her being related to Palpatine. I wanted them to show that really in the end, your bloodline doesn’t make you who you are, you decide who you want to be, not your past, and in a way they did that. They showed that someone from humble beginnings, like Rey and even Finn, can rise up to do amazing things, you don’t have to be part of a dynasty like the Skywalkers to be great.

Imagery/Portrayal of the Force- If theres one thing I can really commend this movie for, it’s the visuals. From the color contrasts of Crait to the trippy Force shenanigans everything was visually stunning. Leia using the Force to glide through the void of space to safety was such a magical moment I will never forget (and anyone calling it Mary Poppins or Superman flying is honestly just afraid to have whimsical moments in their SW and therefore a coward) the blend of CG and puppets was super great and using a puppet for Yoda’s return was such a great callback to the original trilogy. After watching so many Transformers movies its nice to watch an action flick that doesn’t rely on shaky cam to sell the intensity of a scene, but instead uses the art direction and imagery as it should.

Also as far as the Force goes, i’ve been so happy that we’re moving away from the two extremes. The Dark Side in not completely evil and the Light Side is not completely good, i’m just glad we’re finally showing that in the movies, and if it makes people mad then good, the truth hurts but they need to understand not everything is black and white.

Humor- Some might argue that a lot of the humor was oriented more towards the younger audience, but tbh most of the bits really hit with me (probably because I am a child) and provided some nice warm moments in what might be considered a tense and dark movie. We’ve been debating for years now how Luke’s first interaction with Rey would go, what would he say to her? What would he do? and it’s my belief that they could not have gone with a more appropriate choice than for him to toss the saber over his shoulder as he did (Luke’s “reach out” moment with her was also so nice and I’m 1000% convinced it was improv by Mark) The bits with the guardians of the island were great, the porgs were surprisingly enjoyable (if not still a bit bizarre) and my favorite running joke of all, turning Hux into what i’ve always seen him as, a huge joke, a slapstick prop to be tossed around and ridiculed, it was quite satisfying.

Additional things- Despite the fact that there wasn’t a saber on saber fight the entire movie, the Snoke’s Praetorian guard fight scene with Rey and Kylo will go down in history as one of the great fight scenes in SW history. Rose was such an amazing addition to the cast and Kelly is so talented, I’m happy she’s a part of the SW family now. And BOY you want to talk about memorable moments, Holdo’s lightspeed crash into Snoke’s Supremecy was absolutely breathtaking. The way it was shot, the sound design, everything was perfect and people are going to be talking about it for a very long time.

THE BAD

Snoke’s Death- The moment Snoke was killed off is the moment I feel like everything shifted in the movie, I was enjoying it quite a bit up until that point, and then as soon as the saber bisected him this huge wave of disappointment and disbelief washed over me, which is why this is probably one of the biggest mis-steps in the movie besides Phasma’s treatment. For years now we’ve been theorizing and trying to piece together who Snoke could possibly be, whether it be the return of an older character or him being his own thing and with every tiny piece of info that came out we were further pulled in to the mysteries that surrounded him. Who is he? What is he? Why does he look that way? How did he come to power? I never expected all of these questions to be answered in TLJ, but a piece of info or two thrown our way to reward our patience and interest in him would have been appreciated.

Instead what we got was nothing and a swift ridiculous death half way through the movie. To say that i’m crestfallen is a bit of an understatement. Those that know me are aware that I’m a huge dark side fan and an even bigger fan of Sheev Palpatine, he’s a compelling character in a lot of the ways Snoke has the potential to be, so to see another great antagonist along the lines of Palpatine just thrown away without any second thought or explanation is an awful thing to see.

And I’m aware that they are probably going to throw his backstory into a book or comic, which part of me is grateful for (especially since James Luceno, author of Darth Plagueis might possibly be writing it right now) but tbh you shouldn’t throw the responsibility of portraying a character off on someone else when you have more than enough time and opportunities to show it in the film. As someone who is heavily invested in the alternative media surrounding SW I still don’t think that you should put your viewers through that, making them ask questions about a character, pay for a ticket to possibly have some of those questions answered and then pull the rug out from under them like “Nope sorry you’ll have to buy the book when it comes out next year” it’s very in-accessible and just downright disrespectful to the writers that set him up for a decent arc.

Plenty of uninteresting things were prioritized over the interesting so don’t tell me they couldn’t have taken 10 minutes out of something inconsequential to slip in some context for this character. It’s such a shame to see an opportunity to flesh out a compelling character passed over for the purpose of subverting everyone’s expectations, cheap and unsatisfying. #AndySerkisDeservedBetter

Phasma- I want to say for the record that I am absolutely outraged, not only did we get even less Phasma than we did in TFA, but they “killed her off” in a way they can either bring her back and do what they said they were going to do after TFA which was give her a decent amount of screen time, or leave her dead. It’s honestly a travesty that they continuously recruit these talented actors to portray these characters and they get shafted as far as content and inclusion goes. I can’t even put my excitement into words when Phasma was first announced, I just wanted female Stormtroopers period but having a woman play a fierce Stormtrooper commander meant everything to me. But alas, just as Snoke it seems these directors can’t seem to find a place to put them amongst the other pointless plots that are stuffed into the film which brings me to…

Canto Bight- A beautiful planet/setting but very unnecessary as a whole. I mean the whole idea of them needing to go to a planet to get a random codebreaker to get on the ship in the first place is absolutely absurd when they’ve had countless ways upon these ships in the past. And the fact that they had to call up Maz so they could poorly stuff her into the movie for 2 minutes as she quickly rattled off their mission in a very Battlefront 2 manner was absolutely ridiculous. The casino itself was neat and I’m glad they touched upon the fact that these people got rich by selling weapons to both sides, but the whole animal chase sequence and everything with DJ felt so out of place and long and distracting from things that would have far better served the characters and plot.

Length- As someone who sat through Age of Extinction after drinking a large soda at the beginning of the film, trust me when I say I know when a movie feels long and this one felt unbearably so. Every time I thought to myself “oh this is it this is going to be the climax and resolution” they would set off on another escape plan. It’s like they came up with 5 different endings and couldn’t decide which one to use so they just kinda tacked them on to the end of each other. After learning that this movie was 3 hours at it’s original cut, I cannot imagine sitting through another hour of squished together side-plots and escape plans, if those cut scenes had more Snoke and Phasma it might’ve been worth it but something tells me it didn’t. We wont know until the bluray with all the deleted scenes comes out next year.

Rey as the future of the Jedi- There was fanboy outcry at the end of TFA saying that Rey was a “”””mary sue””” for being able to defeat someone like Kylo Ren with no lightsaber training/understanding of the Force, but all their arguments are bullshit and there was nothing unbelievable about Rey’s skill with a staff translating to a saber and embracing the Force to gain an edge over Kylo and defeat him.

Now in TLJ Luke’s training of Rey was set up (like many things) to be a main focal point in the story when in reality, it lasts maybe two days and in that time not much training happens at all, in fact Luke tries to show Rey why the Jedi should NOT continue. But in the end it’s very much eluded to that it’s now up to Rey to continue on the Jedi ways and teach a whole new batch of bright eyed young light siders. Rey was skilled enough in TFA to handle herself, but she was still very much a student in need of a teacher herself, something she got only briefly. I honestly have little faith that they can convincingly portray this if they choose to go this route.

Confusing moments with Holdo/Mutiny- I don’t know if was just me but with the movie as a whole being an overwhelming stream of events and developments, the whole Poe mutiny against Holdo was an absolute clusterfuck to me. It was obvious that Holdo was planning something and wouldn’t share it with Poe to the point where it was almost as if she was a traitor/spy and was running everyone into the ground on purpose, and I thought my suspicions were confirmed when she broke back out of custody, but then suddenly Leia shows up and stuns Poe?? Was she a Changeling??? What the fuck was going on??

And then it turns out that she just had a plan to stay with the ship and to get everyone to the Rebel base on the planet below THAT SHE WOULDN’T TELL ANYONE. Like if she would have been a little more up front with this plan I think things would have gone smoother and the whole Poe mutiny thing could have been avoided. It was all very necessary and created conflict and complexity where there didn’t need to be.

Confrontation- While the final confrontation between Kylo and Luke is impactful in it’s end, I think it would have been even more so had it not been needlessly complicated by having him project from Ahch-to. I mean he probably wouldn’t have survived the Walker blasts, but if he could project across the galaxy like that then he could’ve figured something out. When he showed up at the base out of nowhere my suspension of disbelief was already running thin with the loss of Snoke and Phasma, but seeing him look so different from what he looked like minutes ago just ruined the surprise of him not actually being there. I would have liked to see him reunite with Leia in person before becoming one with the Force, and I just think him being there and pulling an Obi Wan by disappearing and leaving the cloak behind just as he did with Vader would have been a nice call back.

Rose/Finn- This moment I did not see coming because tbh, there was no build up to it, and just like the infamous Steve Rogers/Sharon Carter kiss from Civil War, it was awkward and unnecessary and I’m fairly convinced this was added last minute to subvert fans from the whole Stormpilot ship, because you know, how dare us gays want to be included in SW right? Rose is a BRILLIANT character, and even tho Finn suffered the short end of the stick as far as development in this movie went, neither of them needed this rushed moment to make her action or their friendship any more meaningful.

Payoff- Although I was happy with Rey’s parentage I don’t like that it was made to be such an issue that ultimately ended up not being a big deal. Now a lot of this comes from the fact that Rian took it upon himself to “fix” some of JJ’s weaker elements from TFA, but instead of fixing them he eliminated what would have been really nice payoffs for the fans who’ve invested so much time and love into discussing this series. This also goes for Snoke, why create this mystery around this character and have people talking about him if you aren’t going to give them some kind of payoff in the end. That bit of satisfaction that we hoped to get just slipped away and  we’ll have to wait another 2 years to have another chance at it, or maybe not at all and thats incredibly frustrating.

In the end I had fun, but that fun just can’t make me forget about the glaring issues this movie had. And they’re not just issues, they’re needless issues, things that could have been easily avoided or fixed. At this point i’m not even really invested enough in the characters that are left to be excited for the next film.

So yes this film had problems, but is it the worst SW film ever? Is SW really dead? Absolutely not, everyone is being far too dramatic, which honestly isn’t surprising seeing as most of them still pretend the prequels had nothing of value and don’t exist.

It had problems.

Fix them.

Do better next time.

It’s as simple as that and if the filmmakers can’t recognize this film’s shortcoming to avoid making the same mistakes again, then it’s their own fault for the criticism they get. The film isn’t a total loss in the slightest and hopefully some of the deleted content will shed some light on a few things we so very much wanted to see.

[stormecloudy-blog]

Deja Vu

The last place I expected to be when I got off work this evening was sitting across from a guy who I had gone to school with who keeps telling me how beautiful I am and asks me these really profound questions about myself.

Shawn is definitely like no one I have ever met. He is miles away from most of the dead end guys I date because he is a musician with actual goals and aspirations, and he spends a lot of his free time touring around the world. Which kind of intimidates me, but I am going to keep this small piece of information to myself for the time being.

He stares at me like I am worth his time, a feeling I am not accustomed to at all. With Ed Sheeran humming softly from the stereo, this might just be one of the most perfect moments of my life.

Shoving my phone into my purse on the floor after reassuring my best friend I was just fine, my attention turns back to Shawn and listening to him explain one of his favorite songs by Ed Sheeran and his in depth rationale.

“Lying about your whereabouts again?” he razzs me, leaning over to increase the volume on the new song playing before glancing at me through his periphery.

“Not exactly,” I retort drily, sticking my tongue at him.

He shakes his head at me with a chuckle, still entertained by what he considers my sass.

After spending most of my time after work with him the last few weeks, I have grown accustomed to the routine of Shawn picking me up from work to either go to dinner somewhere or spending time at his house as he tries to show me how to play one of the vastly endless games he owns. I need to see you tonight was all his message said before I got off work, but it kind of left me wondering what he had meant.

Shawn stretches out his arms in my direction, yanking me into his embrace with a cheeky little grin across his face.

“Then your friends all know you are here alone with me, and that we might do some not so PG rated things then, I take it,” a smirk etched on the corner of his face, no doubt bringing home his meaning. “Everyone is aware I am about to taint you right here in my childhood bedroom where I never even kissed a girl.”

Shawn Mendes, never one to fail to say the most romantic words at the most appropriate times.

“You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, you know.”

His fingers ghost down my waist and stop at my hips, allowing him to pull me closer.

“Yeah,” he hovers his lips right in front of mine for a brief second before closing the gap. “But yet you are still here anyway and don’t seem to be complaining at all.”

He wastes no time in kissing me again, his hands travelling skillfully along the curves of my body as he displays his mastery of knowing how to please a woman just with a simple brush of his lips against my own.

My hands pull back at him, our lips colliding hungrily to show how much we both want each other, and he responds with a low groan of pleasure at how reciprocal I am.

He yanks off his shirt like it burns him, dropping it on the floor with the pile of dirty clothes already there. Then he reaches down, grabbing his combat boots and throwing them down where they land with a solid thud, not even caring the sound might alert someone coming home that we are up here doing less than appropriate things.

He slides his hands around my waist, reaching down to fully cup my ass in his hands as he kisses me deeply with more passion than I had known possible with one kiss and leaving me wanting even more than he is already giving me with just those lips of his.

My hands knot tightly in his hair, needing to keep him against him and match the roughness he is displaying with his mouth and hands.

“More…” I murmur against his lips, my fingers gliding down to snap of his jeans and unfastening them with one hand. Expert mode.

He responds by dropping his hands to the hem of the cami I am wearing, peeling it off my frame and throwing it across the room as yet another piece of collateral damage of our escapades.

“I want to fuck you so badly,” he tells in a voice barely above a whisper, his lips trailing kisses along my neck and nipping at the skin simultaneously.

My hands respond by moving up to his biceps, digging softly into the skin as he continues to bite along my neck and make me bend my neck to allow him free access to the skin soon to be completely covered in purple bruises. He reaches down to slide my leggings and panties off at the same time, showing he wastes no time in getting things done right.

I look him right in the eye, quirking my eyebrows in a suggestive manner and kissing him again as he chuckles at me.

He responds by removing his jeans, struggling to get the skinny jeans off his legs and cursing at them as he removes those as his boxers. It makes me giggle a little to see him swearing at his pants as he tosses them on the floor, telling them to fuck off.

Shawn returns his attention to me, guiding me closer to him as he kisses along my collarbone before letting his lips trail down to my breasts. His mouth envelops my nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently.

His mouth keeps suckling gently as his other hand pinches my other nipple in his fingers, causing me to gasp out at the mixed feeling of pain and pleasure at the same time.

“Good girl,” he whispers against my skin, taking his mouth away. “I want you on top.”

He lays down on the bed, staring at me expectantly.

Climbing on top of him, my legs lock on either side of him to keep myself steady. I trail my fingers along his chest and up his jaw before tilting my head to kiss him softly, nibbling his bottom lip.

He slides his hand between my thighs, slipping a finger inside to feel how wet I am for him. It causes me to moan, probing him to keep going even.

“Shawn...fuck…”

In response, my hand slides around his length and I lick my hand to tease him, sliding up and down his shaft. He groans at the feeling, moving his finger faster.

“Fuck yes…” he says.

I position myself so his length is right at my entrance, teasing him for a moment before allowing him to slide inside of me.

He closes his eyes in bliss, his hips pressing against mine and his hands finding their resting spot at my waist.

I grinned down at him, wasting no time on finding the right place. I start out slow to get a rhythm going and to adjust to the feeling of his large member being inside of me, but there is no way I want to stay moving gently. Once I know I am able to stay on top, I start moving quicker, my hips meeting his and my breasts bouncing up and down as I ride him.

He seems pleased with my actions, his hands on my hips as he watches me with a look of pure contentment upon his face.

Once the pace is set, he groans each time my hips meet his and he smacks my ass to lt me know I am doing well.

“You are so fucking loud,” I teased him, sliding my fingers through my hair as I looked down at him.

“But you’re just so fucking good,” he replied, moving his hands up to cup my breasts in both hands and leaning up to bite at my nipple for a second to garner another gasp of pleasure from me.

He grabs my hips with both hands, slamming into me roughly as he swears beneath his breath and finds the spot he seems to be looking for because my mouth forms an “o” and I scream out his name, almost losing my balance on top of him.

Without giving me a chance to really find my composure again, Shawn shifts the control to him so he is on top of me and thrusting deeply. His hands hold onto my thighs as he rolls his hips against mine, moving in and out of me with very deep concentration. He keeps hitting the spot just so, and I know that I am going to climax very soon.

“Cum for me, princess,” he whispers in my ear hoarsely, showing how close he is to reaching his own peak.

My toes curl into the sheets as he snakes his hand down to massage my clit as he continues to thrust in and out of me quickly. I can’t hold in the moans either, feeling it building from deep within as he goads me with on with his ministrations

“Shawn…” his name is the only words on my lips as I feel myself coming undone, my body succumbing to the pleasure completely

“Fuck!” he cries out, his body shuddering against mine as he cums inside of me.

Trying to catch his breath and let us both recuperate from what just conspired, Shawn just brushes a kiss against my temple as we bask in the post coital afterglow or whatever this could be considered.

“You have such a dirty mouth,” I playfully tell him.

Shawn pulls out of me, giving me a dirty look and leaning back against his pillows.

I sit up to get dressed since I should probably be getting home soon to avoid over staying my welcome, but he is looking at me as though I have completely lost my mind as he winds around my waist and pulls me against his bare torso for cuddling. “You don’t think you can just get away from me that easily, do you?”

I raise my eyebrows at him, not really sure how to respond. “I thought you would probably have other plans I was keeping you from, and I didn’t want to be rude and impose.”

He shook his head at me, placing another kiss against my forehead. “My only plans for tonight are doing that again and again with you, just so you are aware.”

I bite my lip and give him my most flirtatious smile, “That might end up feeling like deja vu, you know.”

[entergamingxp]

Playing Celeste’s Farewell DLC is a masterpiece of High Resolution Play • Eurogamer.net

Happy Second Birthday Celeste! I’m late again, I know. But thanks to the Farewell update released last September, Celeste is imprinted on my 2019 as much as it was the year before. Because Farewell is brilliant.

Now, this is a small spoiler, but you have to hold down as Madeline falls, to speed her descent enough to just (just!) catch the falling spring block as it plummets away from you.

Holding down stretches Madeline, squashing and squeezing her as she accelerates – way too quick for comfort – towards a tiny, moving chunk of moon rock. This is right at the beginning of Farewell, Celeste’s DLC finale. And it’s precise: Panicky and stylish and more genuinely thrilling through the fingers than some whole games manage with their-canned, smoke-and-mirror bluster.

And even though I reckon I’m pretty fluent in Celeste – which I not only beat, but beat-beat-beat (those C-Sides!) – it took me ages to work out. Ages! Ages to consider pimping-up the dropping-down, that core part of a platformer’s rise and fall; its inhale-exhale. And this was before the really new stuff: The jellyfish parachutes and the blowfish and That Bird. Here was a problem of springs and spikes, Celeste’s bread-and-butter, and a long chasm I couldn’t seem to make it across, teasing out a new trick from a palette of movement I thought I already knew.

But Farewell is just getting started.

What unfolds thereafter is a mini-epic, practically a game unto itself that just keeps on extending, surprising, delighting, exhausting. Madeline is trying to find a friend, and this takes place on the Moon. As with Celeste Mountain, it’s a journey inwards as well as onwards. But this is more of a Majora’s moon, with its own hazy strangeness. With pinks and cyan, and distant star fields of starfish. With hi-hats and synth, then cello and violin. With platforms that bob like buoys and tight coral mazes that shine iridescent, like a sea shell’s inside. And, later on, a glitch.

A little way in there’s a drop – literal, musical, environmental – that I wish everyone could experience, an uprush ascent from darkness and synth into gleaming, blue-bloom luminescence. With tiny, glowing amoeba-creatures swimming through the air. Then, this chorus of strings like morning has broken.

Man, I love a good platformer! The feel of them. All that after-touch. A little more press on the jump button, before a quick release. A little more holding right, then a little less. All that in-air inertia management that makes the whole jumping arc feel analogue and alive, with the real, sticky physicality you get from holding down the run (or gun, or whatever) button throughout. All the kneading of the pad needed to leap.

And Celeste’s game-feel is one of my favourites, where each jump is a pitcher’s wind-up, a curving feint before a blink-fast dash elsewhere – any direction, whatever your momentum, no questions asked. And where walls are grabbed and clung to with the R-Trigger, and the Ueda-ish sense of tactile connection this builds. Where every animation has bounce. And, I’ve realised, where the movement feels so supple, granular; with so much bend and flex and nuance.

Because Farewell is calibrated from the off in the mode of Celeste’s hardest challenges (the beat-beat, and the beat-beat-beat), each screen feels like a level in itself: Advanced Classes in Celeste’s instrument of movement, demanding a new mastery, a subtlety of understanding of something you thought you already had down. It requires an attention to the particular, to increasingly small slivers of space-time, screen-inches compressed with micro-dramas that you half work out, half feel out. A little extra lean into a wall-side escalator, perhaps. A pocket of slack if I let go slightly later.

I’m not sure I’ve played another game in such high fidelity. With such high-resolution control. With enough depth that it can reveal a crouching dash jump – that was there all along – in the Core C-Side, the second bonus version of an already bonus level. And then in a post-game DLC like Farewell it can – impossibly, astoundingly – reveal another move midway (and it’s a doozy). It’s one of gaming’s all-time greatest, most robust and rewarding game-feels, I think. And Farewell feels like not just an expansion but an encore, an Out-With-A-Bang finale that manages to fold the old into the new.

So, all your favourite toys return, like the Celestial Jelly and the Hairy Brambles (not their official names) as old friends slightly changed (and sometimes coupled up). And the new additions feel indispensable on arrival, lending new rhythms and weights. The jellyfish gliders in particular, have this gratifying, dash-extending fwip and then a parachute whumph and then a languid, tugging glide that makes the air feel viscous and thick; with a soft hum of connection through the pad throughout. I suppose they make a thematic sort of half-sense too: adding some subaquatic float and suspension to what were already the flingiest, soaringest lines in gaming.

But all your favourite flavours of Celeste-ing return as well. One act is a key-hunt branching out from a central hub, like in Mirror Temple. Another hangs like a huge, suspended engine of movement for Madeline to arc in and around and over and under in one uninterrupted sequence; a C-Side unto itself. Sometimes, a room might be a breathless run of light-touch platforming that you skim over, like a stone on water. At others, an act will take the edges of an old mechanic – like the on-off acapella beat-blocks, and the gameplay kink that means they stay in when Madeline is in front of them – and embrace and extend it into a whole section of syncopated play, where you play in off-beats and in-betweens.

Special mention to the entire room given to a tiny aside to do with the bounce of a cloud, that plays like a joke told in jump.

And the things you do with springs.

Sometimes I’ll watch back my Switch recordings agape, dumbly repeating ‘No Way’ (and worse), slightly incredulous at the routines I somehow managed, too absorbed and in a state of tired automaticity to fully appreciate as I did them. Because the things you’re asked to do are amazing, absurd. Often, levels feel less like obstacle courses to overcome, than contraptions designed to require platforming badassery. Jumping beauty. Motion joy. As if screens were an inverse-engineered machinery of moments, a celebration of the wordless, ineffable pleasures of momentum, purified and accentuated in two dimensions (without the dilution and disruption of a z-axis and a camera). Like outrageous solos of space and timing – with elasticity and swing, with Matrix, anime style and flourish – but bottled and fixed by these challenges that necessitate them. Madeline and her trailing hair giving weight and shape to brilliant patterns of movement, like leaves giving shape to the wind.

(I am writing this in Autumn).

But, the other thing I like about platformers, about Celeste, about games, is that unique, thickened space they take place in. Where light and sound and feel are wound together, like threads of a rope, that tactile uber-texture when everything coheres into a compound, playable thing. Not as direct as synaesthesia, I don’t think, where one sense is felt in another; nor as literal as rhythm-action. But another thing that happens, triangulated from all these elements, forming somewhere between you and the screen. I’m sure there is a word for this – probably hyper-specific, probably German, probably GameFeelengeist or something – but I don’t know it. But I know that I’ve loaded up Celeste to dash around Reflection’s spacey caverns, playing life into its palette of emerald greens and crystalline blues.

And I know that in Farewell, the challenge is so high I just submit to the endeavour, the inevitability of death; engaging the determined, meditative half-focus required for these groundhog-loops of gameplay to slowly, surely improve. Entering that enclave of ever-time, that absorption primed with the potential of progress. Precise coils of gameplay being wound tight into fingers and thumbs. Stirring myself into the scene by repetition, accumulation, the whole thing gaining mass. So that talking about the music, or the graphics, or the game-feel in isolation doesn’t quite work.

Instead, there’s purple star fields. A pulse in the pad in time with a beat. A bird that swings like a lasso. Fluorescent shower-fall on a jelly umbrella. Bright arpeggios that rise and fall like waves alongside rhythms and patterns of time and space. But most of all, a thickening in the middle.

Do you remember in school, where one kid would hold their hands out, palms inwards, at about shoulder width apart?

Another kid – the accomplice – would stand opposite and hold their hands outside the first person’s, like brackets. Then the first kid, their hands on the inside, would try to squeeze out as hard as they could, to bring their arms apart. The second guy would be pushing their hands inwards to resist this. And now both are locked in an intense, straining stillness like in those movie scenes where someone is desperately pushing a knife to another person desperately resisting. Here though, it’s basically just foiling a clap.

And then, after a while, they release! And from this: magic. The first child’s arms are drifting automatically apart – now free and loose and unimpeded. But when he tries to bring them together again, there’s a stubbornness. Felt as a swell, a sphere, a something within his palms. A ball of force that plumps the air, like a Hadoken before it turns to flame.

And it reminds me of games, the way they happen; in your muscles as well as through your senses.

In Celeste, there’s also kindness. A reassuring postcard and a You Can Do It, a Campfire Conversation and now, in Farewell, a ‘Hello Strawberry’. There’s that bobble of the menus, and those marker-pen borders, and a new Assist Mode spiel, now re-written to be more inclusive. So many instances of care in this thing you push and press your way through, inflecting the whole experience, the tone of this world that you open up from a home screen.

So that what emerges – between the hands, after hours, in aggregate – is something else: a knot of associations that also feels like encouragement, a comfort, a strength. Like something good, an affirmation sounded-out in play and firmed up by effort. With a relatability and warmth not just spoken or stated, but solid and tactile, full-bodied, made of movement and input and response: What Celeste feels like whole.

I could have missed out! When I first played Celeste I nearly settled for all the strawberries, and maybe a few B-sides. Cashing out at the usual game-replete of A Pretty Solid Effort. If I’m honest, maybe my usual replete in general. But my cousin takes things lighter than me (example: he’s one of those guys who can go onto Netflix and just start watching things randomly) and his continued interest tipped me over into trying, and then succeeding, at something that at first seemed too hard; a challenge too far.

But I have an actual Celeste scarf that says You Can Do It. Because I did!

And now I’ve done Farewell, too. A generous gift of an experience, with new sounds and sights, and new ways to play. But it’s also a celebration, and a consolidation, of something brilliant: A game you hold between your hands, that feels like comfort, kindness, strength. First with the pad, and then just the feeling.

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/02/playing-celestes-farewell-dlc-is-a-masterpiece-of-high-resolution-play-%e2%80%a2-eurogamer-net/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=playing-celestes-farewell-dlc-is-a-masterpiece-of-high-resolution-play-%25e2%2580%25a2-eurogamer-net