#Fox Orchard Run
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Uncovering the unreleased Far Cry 5 in-game Encyclopedia
The almost complete but unused in-game encyclopedia, reconstructed thanks to the oasisstrings file.
Please note that it’s still cut content, so some information might not be relevant anymore.
You can read the oasisstrings file here. Pictures from this encyclopedia were also extracted and posted by @xbaebsae here.
Part 2: Locations - Holland Valley
Gardenview Packing Facility
The last facility added to the Hadlers' apple empire. They shipped their apples throughout Hope County and beyond. When the cult went red state, the Hadlers stopped their legal threats and resorted to violence.
Silver Lake Trailer Park
A community of people just trying to do their best.
Gardenview Orchards
A part of Doug and Debbie Hadler’s apple empire. After their ciderworks facility, they expanded to a second, larger orchard: Gardenview Orchards. Then they opened the Gardenview Packing Facility.
Rae-Rae's Pumpkin Farm
Fiery matriarch Rae-Rae Bouthillier cares about two things: Prize-winning pumpkins and her dog Boomer.
Gardenview Ciderworks
The first major facility owned by Doug and Debbie Hadler. Ten years ago, they had a dream: an empire made of apples. They nearly achieved it too, until the cult forcibly took over everything they had worked for.
Bridge of Tears
It was called the Mišihrew Bridge when the railroad was still active. It’s now a rickety old train bridge and John Seed's ideal location to send a warning message to all sinners.
Frobisher's Cave
In 1970, a cougar, named "Frobisher" by the locals, killed the star pitcher of a rival baseball team. The Hope County Silver Foxes won that year and changed their name to the Cougars in Frobisher's honor.
Howard Cabin
Home of Niesha Howard, an extreme rock climber from Canada who moved to Montana to be a prepper.
Copperhead Rail Yard
Copperhead Rail was created in the late 1800s by Emmet Reaves. It was shut down in the early 70s and a lot got left behind. It became a place for kids to get drunk or bums to find shelter, then the cult bought it.
Lincoln Lookout Tower
It’s the last working fire tower in the county. A man who worked here promised to help the Strickland family fight off the cult if ever their farm was under attack.
Sergey’s Place
A hobo historian calls this place home. Nobody's seen him in a while though.
Boyd Residence
Will Boyd lives here, or at least he did. No one in the valley talks about him. And for good reason.
Strickland Farm
Property owned by the Strickland family of farmers. No friends to Eden’s Gate.
U.S. Auto
A scrap yard containing trashed cars, broken farm equipment, and even a few busted planes. Eden's Gate uses the garage to build and maintain their convoys.
Doverspike Compound
Les Doverspike was a militia nut and he built himself a bunker. Nobody in the prepper community liked him. Despite that, he was anti-cult and pro-Resistance.
Harris Residence
Mike and Deb Harris were preppers with a cunning plan to keep themselves fed after the end of the world.
Reservoir Construction Yard
Deep North Water wanted to build a new reservoir for the Holland Valley. The company ran out of funding and was chased away by Eden’s Gate.
Dodd’s Dumps
Colin Dodd used to run garbage disposal for the whole Holland Valley, and his business lot shows it. The cult intimidated him into leaving but has yet to sort through all he left behind.
Davenport Farm
The remains of a run-down farm. Local farmers let their cows graze here. Can't let good land go to waste.
Hilgard Electric Power Station
The Holland Valley's power supply is reliant on this transformer station which is controlled by Eden's Gate.
Golden Valley Gas
Once the kind of gas station that gave out free bubble gum to kids, Golden Valley is now a strategic point of gasoline and auto maintenance for the Project at Eden's Gate.
Green-Busch Fertilizer Co.
Facing a decline in business, the Green-Busch family said “yes” and sold the place to John Seed on the condition that locals could keep their jobs and work alongside Eden's Gate.
St. Isidore School
Once a religious boarding school, it was forced to close its doors by Eden's Gate.
Dodd Residence
Home of Colin Dodd, hoarder and DIY enthusiast. He never throws anything out. His granddaughter Nadine's been known to lurk here.
Roberts Cabin
Home of Joe Roberts, a hunter. He's gone missing. He loved hunting deer above all else.
Hope County Clinic
Dr. Kim Patterson provides medical services to Hope County's farmers and low-income residents, many of whom would never receive care in such a remote area.
Holland Valley Station
In the days that it was up and running, Copperhead Rail used to stop here. Eden’s Gate uses this station to catch people who try to escape the region.
Grain Elevator
As the farmlands started to collapse, the grain elevator was the first casualty. Too expensive to maintain.
Henbane River Rail Bridge
Copperhead Rail was created in the 1880s during a mining boom, and shut down in the early 70s after the industry collapsed.
Flatiron Stockyards
Bobby Budell established the stock yards in 1946, and has proudly provided farm and ranch auction services since. The economic and community base employed over 25 people at its height.
Fillmore Residence
Home of Doug Fillmore. Not much is known about him.
Dupree Residence
Home of Tommy Dupree, an idiot who used to work at Green-Busch Fertilizer Co. He got fired by Eden's Gate because he was as dumb as the crap he bagged.
Catamount Mines
Fall’s End owes its existence to the gold Orville Fall discovered here in 1865. The mine brought a generation of prosperity to the region until a suspicious accident entombed 100 men within it, forcing its closure in 1912.
Sunrise Farm
Sunrise Farm was going under, so owners Mike and Chandra Dunagan reluctantly sold it to Eden's Gate. Big mistake.
Deep North Irrigation Reservoir
Originally designed to irrigate farms, the reservoir became a liability when the cult began putting Bliss in the water supply. The Resistance sealed it up to buy themselves time.
Red’s Farm Supply
The Redler family has run this place for 4 generations, and earned a reputation for honest business. Wendell did his best to keep it out of cult hands.
Purpletop Telecom Tower
In the 1950s, Purpletop Telecom built this tower, blessing people with the wonders of AM radio. As time and technology marched forward, they were also given the American splendor of a local TV station.
Woodson Pig Farm
This place has been in the Woodson family since 1943. Current owners Andrew and Frances Woodson used their wealth to try to stand up to John Seed and fight him in court. They lost, and joined the Resistance.
Sawyer Residence
Don Sawyer came from out of town to join the Project at Eden's Gate. He restores canoes, but isn't very good at it. Visitors have sworn they've heard him swearing in Russian over those boats.
Hyde Barn
Kenny Hyde's a poor man in Holland Valley, but that doesn't stop him from loving deep fried balls. He's the proud keeper of Fall’s End Testy Festy decorations, stashing them at his barn until they're needed.
Kupka Ranch
Zip Kupka's the only one who really knows what's going on in the Holland Valley.
John’s Gate
A missile silo long decommissioned and abandoned. The locals used to call it "Area 68." Eden's Gate bought it in secret and turned it into a bunker that is in John Seed's safekeeping until the Collapse.
Security Gate
Formerly the entrance to the missile silo, it's now the gateway to John Seed's bunker. Everything taken in the Reaping passes through this checkpoint.
Steele Farm
The Steele family managed to get their kids out of Hope County, but stayed behind to try and defend their home from Eden's Gate.
Lamb of God Church
A Lutheran church. Its elderly priest was overshadowed by Pastor Jerome’s charismatic sermons. John once asked the priest to say “yes.” Not a chance. Then, the priest was gone. He had taken a “long vacation.”
Lamb of God Sacristy
The Project at Eden's Gate has turned the Lamb of God Church's sacristy into a holding place for everything they need to baptize people at the water's edge.
Armstrong Residence
The Project at Eden's Gate targeted the Armstrong family early, burning their home to the ground when Grace Armstrong refused to devote her sharpshooting skills to the Father's cause.
Bradbury Tractor Shed
A shed for tractors.
Hope County Jail Bus
Prisoners hijacked this bus but were run off the road. The wreck was left to rot in the woods. When Eden's Gate brought prohibition to Hope County, some enterprising moonshiners set up shop behind the cult’s back.
Parker Laboratories
Home and workshop of Dr. Laurence Parker, and the origin of many mysterious noise complaints.
Seed Ranch
The power of yes gave John Seed this dream ranch overlooking the Holland Valley. it has commanding views, a private air strip, and secluded soundproofed rooms for his most invigorating religious pursuits.
Bradbury Farm
The home of the Bradbury family, hay farmers for generations. The strange pattern of dead hay in the field does not impact the quality of the final product. That's the Bradbury guarantee.
Bradbury Hay Field
Bradbury Farm's hay is baled and stored here before being sold to clients looking to feed their livestock with quality hay.
Laurel Residence
Laurel family honey was a local market favorite until their bee colony collapsed and jeopardized the business. It also spooked the Laurels who sunk money into a bunker and became preppers overnight.
Eden’s Gate Greenhouse
Bliss plants are found throughout the Henbane River, but they're also found here. John Seed takes the flowers he receives by boat from the east and plants them in his greenhouse.
Seed Boat Launch
Once a favorite spot for summer frolickers, this boat launch is used by John Seed for receiving shipments of Bliss and other supplies from elsewhere in Hope County.
Rye & Sons Aviation
This plot of land was first settled in 1920 by Willard Rye. He started a crop dusting business. His sons inherited both and it now belongs to the current generation of Ryes: Nick & Kim.
Kellett Cattle Co.
The Kellett family supplied beef for 3 generations. These proud Republicans thought they recognized the American spirit in Eden’s Gate, but when John Seed asked them to serve the Project, they said “no.”
Fall’s End
After prospector Orville Fall struck gold, his small mining camp quickly grew. Decades later, his rival, rail baron Emmett Reaves, shot him dead in the streets, giving the town its official name.
Old Silo
Welcome to the middle of it.
Kay-Nine Kennels
The owner, Kay Wheeler, loved her dogs more than life itself. She bred and trained hunting and guard dogs. When Eden’s Gate showed up, the local demand for guard dogs tripled. John Seed noticed and took action.
Sunrise Threshing
A silo and shed complex attached to Sunrise Farm. Rumor has it that Mike Dunagan's stashed a lot of cool shit around here somewhere.
Redler Residence
Home of Wendell Redler, local businessman and Vietnam veteran.
Adams Ranch
Jules Adams lost her husband in an "accident" after saying no to John Seed. Her family's struggled to keep the cattle ranch out of cult hands ever since.
Miller Residence
Despite financial hardship, the Miller family refused the cult’s invitations, prepping for doomsday all on their own. When the reaping came, Jerry Miller was out working.
Wellington Residence
The Wellington family mine is an urban legend, supposedly stuffed with gold, explosives, or both depending who you ask. Generations of Wellingtons (possibly inbred) have tried and failed to strike it rich here.
#far cry 5#hope county#holland valley#boomer#wendell redler#kenny hide#zip kupka#john seed#jerome jeffries#grace armstrong#larry parker#nick rye#kim rye#far cry absolution#will boyd
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easy
(wrote this drabble a month ago for @takearisk-ao3 but forgot about it til right now when i found it in my drafts whoops here you go hannah happy extremely belated birthday!)
read on ao3
some things were still easy, harry mused, running his finger idly up ginny’s calf. they were lying in the field behind the burrow, he and ginny and ron and hermione (he thought it like that in his head, meandginnyandronandhermione, each a singular unit, part of two separate units, one total unit) and he had lain back to look at the stars, ginny’s laughter dancing above him, their voices a murmur, and he was just drunk enough to drift out of the conversation and let it float around him without having to process a word, feeling contemplative but not yet maudlin (at the edge of his thoughts flickered the tint of depression–he purposefully avoided it, knowing that once he slipped in that direction he would keep sliding that way until he couldn’t breathe, and tonight wasn’t the night for that)
he stared up at the stars and thought about things that were still easy. feeling ginny's smooth skin under his fingertips. taking another sip of his drink (another one of ron’s concoctions, cheap firewhiskey mixed with gillywater and a cloying homemade juice luna had brought over last week, ingredients to be kept a secret, which none of them had been drinking, but ron claimed he had perfected a use for it–– the gillywater dilutes it and the firewhiskey cuts the sweetness, i’ve made the perfect drink this time––it was definitively not good, but in the realm of drinkable)
he trailed his fingers further up ginny’s leg, dipping into the hollow under her knee––sex was easy, so easy for them, the way they fit together, the way he could tune into the tiniest hitches in her breath––harry shifted slightly at that thought, and made an effort to refocus on the conversation–– “to be fair,” hermione was saying, through a slight hiccup, “to be fair, it did look like a kneazle! i saw the split tail!”
“no,” ginny was shaking her head, breathless with laughter, “for the tenth time, a fox with a stick stuck in its tail does not look anything like a kneazle! ron, back me up here, you saw the fox––”
ron grinned at hermione from the other side of the blanket, lounging back on his elbows, “i dunno, could’ve been a kneazle from where i stood. i’ve seen crookshanks give me a similar sly glance, and he’s part kneazle, isn’t he––”
“oh, you’re no help––” ginny looked down at harry, who was surprised to realize that it seemed this was a story being retold for his benefit–– “i swear, harry, she was out here this morning trying to catch a normal fox for two hours, ron and i came out and she was telling us off for tripping her sensory spell, and then this fox with a stupid messed-up tail came sprinting through the orchard, and she actually shot an impedimenta at it––”
“it’s late. i’m going to bed” hermione announced imperiously, cutting ginny off. she got up with an impressive steadiness, given she was still hiccuping, and set off towards the house.
ron pushed himself up and stood to his full height, stretching his arms above him and letting out a groan. he looked down at ginny and harry, neither of whom had budged, and shrugged. “where hermione goes, so goes my nation," he said, and strode off, with a "g’night, you two,” tossed over his shoulder, quickly catching up to his girlfriend and grabbing her around the middle, eliciting a squeak.
harry looked away from his two best friends and back to ginny, who was smirking down at him. “i thought they’d never leave” she whispered, and she kissed him, soft and sweet. he lost himself in the kiss, the darkness in the corners of his mind ebbing away, pushed away by a cloud of ginnyginnyginnyginny, and he took firmer hold of her leg where his hand still rested and tugged her down on top of him (and she came easily, the most natural movement in the world, and some things––very few things––some things were easy).
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Linktober, Day 1
Merchant
*walks on in, drops this, mock salutes, refuses to elaborate* Shorter one this time because Ravio is a delight but also incredibly difficult to write for me and because sadly I've been too busy latelro fully figure him out. I apologize to all my fellow Ravio lovers out there, ALBW's was my third game and I really have a soft spot for him and Legend as a result. Maybe next year I'll write something longer or him or a stand alone.
Can be read as both pre romantic or platonic on either end, as well as non LU whatever floats y'all's boat I'm just here due to self indulgence and the LoZ/LU fixation hitting full force lol.
Meeting Ravio was always a bewildering delight.
Coming to Legend's Hyrule and watching his house being converted into a shop each and every time was always a great source of amusement to you and the Chain, the Lorulean always made sure to almost knock the Veteran to the ground with a rabbit worthy tackle with a delighted call of 'Mr.Hero! I'd recognize that annoyed lilt coming up the path anywhere!', hopping along the road as soon as you crossed the orchard boundaries to witness whatever glorious change he made to the house's exterior advertisement campaing (much to Legend's horrified ire), then turn to the Chain with a gleam in his verdant eyes that seemed to scream 'BUSINESS!' with the sound of clinking Rupees for added comical effect, shrewd and always looking for an opportunity to sell, rent or buy for expand his own business reach.
The clear soft spot Legend had for him was equally in half parts comical and sweet, it was in the way how he seemed to soften the feral fox sharp bite of his acerbic bladed tongue. How he let Ravio handle the cooking as soon as you had been welcomed into the house (although given the lack of cooking skills among many members of the Chain, maybe that was for the best), how he relaxed just a bit around the merchant being at his back or leaning against him in all sorts of ways even as he snapped against allowing Ravio to sell anything to you all in the Chain (for good reason, you saw Ravio's prices and had no desire to sell an arm or a leg for any of his goods) and how Ravio knew just how he liked his apple and cinnamon tea and how he knew Ravio was delighted by the existence of latte's once you reached Legend how to make them with Wild.
It was interesting to watch to say the least, specially given how Ravio behaved around anyone else, light footed, always watching and a bit skittish, always ready to run and take his goods with him if needed be. A survivor through and through and given your similar situations, you could respect that though you sadly weren't close, you heard bits and pieces from Legend when he felt generous or reminiscing or complaining about how Lorule was like, so to be able to make a living as a merchant there and stand up to it's queen was quite admirable, specially for a self proclaimed coward though you sadly couldn't interact much in account to the world hopping (no you're not bitter Dark Link or Hylia or whoever is up to controlling the portals you just want to talk, preferably with your fists or trusty dagger).
Which was why when the merchant approached you one fine afternoon in the orchard where you were picking apples for breakfast (determined to help this time before either Ravio or Wild could get to the kitchen), chatty as always and with the patented business smile on his face you couldn't help but be half baffled half unsurprised as you can hear Legend's previous warnings your head, as this really was inevitable.
"Look, Rav can be a bit much and a bit weird, and sure you may want to smack him over the ears for always sniffing for the opportunity to make rupees like a Like Like on the prowl. But he means well and is a really nice lad, just- tell him a firm no if he tries to sell or rent you anything alright?"
"Oh hello there!~ Fancy meeting you here, isn't it?" His voice skittered up on you as he slipped to your side, steps quick and light, Sherrow thrilled at you from between the ears of his hood, coy as a rabbit trying to pass unnoticed in the woods, assessing and prodding.
You couldn't help a small quirk of an eyebrow, reaching up for one of the bright red apples closest to you, "We've been here for at least a week now Ravio, if anything it's a miracle we're only talking now given we see each other every day."
He nodded, long sleeved hands waving around as he spoke, you think you can catch a hint of a smile on his voice, less business like, "Indeed! Didn't expect Mr.Hero to pick up anymore strays, although I did believe he was complaining less coming up the path so that should have been my first warning." He extends his hands towards the basket, head tilted, making Sherrow move to his shoulder with a little chirp, "Need some help with that?"
"That depends, will you charge me for it if I say yes?", you rib back, lips quirking a bit at the affronted gasp and mock swoon from the Lorulean.
"Why! I would never, you're a guest of Mr.Hero's, it would be bad manners to charge you on your first week here." Sherrow nodded along with a little thrill, and you almost fully believed him, almost. He sounded too innocent.
"I'll keep it in mind for next time then." You chirped back, cheerfully as you dropped an apple by him, the merchant laughed, picking up the basket anyway and letting the apple fall inside.
"Oh I like you, it's no wonder Mr.Hero sounds less grumpy when talking about you." He nodded to himself, not fully relaxed, but more loose now at whatever discovery he'd made, you tilted your head with a blink, "I feel like this will be the start of a wonderful friendship!"
You smile back, amused despite yourself, "I'm afraid I'll have to charge you for the honor."
He laughed, shoulders shaking as he accepts more of your dropped apples, "Honestly that's clever, I should have thought of that when meeting Mr.Hero the first time! 'Ravio's Friendship Services for Rent, Advice Free of charge!' Think that would attract a good clientele?" You can swear he winked beneath the hood. Cheeky.
You couldn't help but laugh with him, you know, Legend was right, Ravio was really nice.
He eventually sobered up, tone soft, "I mean it though, Mr.Hero talks well about you." He shrugs a bit, distinctly sheepish and serious, a paradoxical mix but in a way, it fit, "Well, don't tell him I told you that, I think we both know he'd agree to nothing, but I'm glad he has someone looking out for him you know? I know I couldn't do half of the stuff he does, just help from the sidelines, so thank you, for looking out for him."
You blink, softening a bit, you can't see his face beneath the blue eyes of the hood, but you don't need to. In the end, you both care about Legend, so it makes sense he'd want to get a feel for you himself, "Of course, and that's not true, you know? Legend is... definitely a hard nut to crack, but to say he doesn't care about you and what you did for him would be a lie. So if anything, thank you." You smile, a bit helplessly, "I just do what I can, but I wouldn't be able to do if not for you looking out for him first."
He pauses, stilling, too still and a contrast from the way he was so jittery before, but then nods firmly, something like relief coloring his voice as well as pleasant surprise, the chirper tone making it's reappearance aftef a second, "Of course, I'm his most reliable salesman of course! I need to look out for my best and favorite customer!", he clears his throat, is that a hint of crimson on his cheeks? You can't tell beneath the scarf, though you can recognize the immediate conniving tone to his voice, "So... Mr.Hero talks well about me, huh?"
Ah yes, the need for blackmail material. Somehow you're not surprised.
... To be fair, you're curious yourself too. "Help me with making fruit tarts for breakfast and I might consider a mutually beneficial exchange of information."
His grin widened, almost knife sharp, "Only if you help me organize the merchandise at the shop after! We have much to talk about I believe."
You are so glad you passed whatever unseen test he was putting you through. You offer him a hand, "Deal."
You shake on it, understanding being conveyed without words.
Legend was dear to you both, so you'd both work together to look after him.
(Much, much later, after waking up from the first goodnight of sleep he had in a while, Legend will find you both in his kitchen, Ravio chattering enthusiastically as you both enjoy your hard work on the tarts over hibiscus tea, discussing the history of his many, many items and Ravio's goods and be simultaneously filled with warmth he'd take to his grave and feel a chill go up his spine. As if he's made a mistake somehow.
Ah well, it will probably be the best among his many other mistakes.)
#linked universe x reader#linked universe legend x reader#linked universe ravio x reader#both unnamed Reader and Ravio thus become wine gossip friends and gently bully Legend into self care with Fable#he can't tell if he should be indignant or flusteredly glad for it#ravio x reader#can be read as pre relationship of not#Summer Writes for Linktober
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If all versions of Sun Luzhen love apples and hates peaches, what about the other Wukongverse kids? Any favourites? It'll be funny the peach loving Wukongs have half of their kids not liking peaches. The betrayal of genetics.
At least Heaven's Peach Gardens are safe from them... Or are they...?
Referencing this post about Luzhen loving apples and hating peaches.
LMK Xiaotian/MK has canonically expressed his love for stonefruit, so he probably loves peaches. I've seen hcs that he absolute fave though is apricots ("Not too big, not too mushy, just the right amount of cronch!"). This gets his Au counterpart the nickname Apricot.
Mei would love any fruit thats brightly coloured - kiwis being her fav for flavor alone, but dragonfruit is a close second.
Bai He is in the kid phase of "fruit is gross", but Macaque has managed to get her to enjoy frozen blueberries and strawberries.
The Eclipse Twins devour any fruit offered to them like little piranhas, but especially melons. Give them a red watermelon, and the end result looks like a crime scene.
Yuebei is a peach fiend like her baba. No stonefruit left unturned. Her twin brothers Jidu and Luohuo are a little different since they loudly prefer plums and mangos like Macaque.
Hib!Liuer is a peach-fiend like his adoptive dad/mentor. Fa Ming probably convinced the little monk to eat his fruits by telling him how much the Monkey King loved peaches.
Hib!MK/Xiaoyun has a predicament... he does like peaches and other stonefruit - but his fave fruit is pomegranate, a fruit that requires a lot of dexterity to enjoy. Dasheng only found out Xiaoyun had this issue when he caught the one-armed kiddo trying to peel a pomergranate with his feet. Pre-peeled pomegranate fruit/seeds are aa god-send for him.
Shui Lian (the white vixen in the HiB verse) loves most berries and tree fruits, but her favorite is cider apples (like irl foxes) which confuses anyone who eats one and gets a mouthful of super-sour rotten-tasting apple. More for her then :3
In the Reborn verse; Qi Energy/"Fruitie" is a little fruit glutton. As shown in the film; the little nature spirit noms on what appears to be breadfruit, longans, and apples while in the village market. He also eats to replenish his powers. In the reborn au; as Xiao Qi he's even worse. Ever since he's been introduced to stonefruit, he ravages peaches like they're going out of style. The parents still joke that he's a fruit cannibal.
The two wolf siblings (Zhu Yu and Ku Ai) that Reborn!SWK & LEM picks up are used to forest fruits like berries and the rare crabapple. Their favorites are blueberries, which they will literally jump into bushes for. They don't see what the big deal is with peaches.
And ofc you got the 5 Stone-Fruit Monkeys, who are all named for said fruits. More cases of "fruitie cannibalism" the pilgrims joke; as the five babies have declared the fruit they were named for to be "their fruit". Fights will break out if you attempt to feed anyone other than Xiaotao/Little Peach a peach. They all agree that dates are a neutrally-enjoyable fruit however.
Netflix!MK/Xiaoshi loves peaches, but Netflix!SWK actually doesn't care for them that much - bad experience with the poisoned one.
The twin pebbles love cherries, and again, crime scene occurs when left alone with a basket of them. They also love raw tomatoes.
The Heavenly Orchards may breathe a sigh of relief for now... until the different MKs get into the celestial realms and start getting hungry. Xiao Qi and Yuebei probably give a few immortals pstd flashbacks with their snack runs.
#sun luzhen#qi xiaotian#qi energy#lmk luzhen#jiang liuer#wukongverse#lego monkie kid#lmk#the monkey king and the infant#the monkey king and the infant au#monkey king reborn#monkey king hero is back#the monkey king netflix#the monkley king 2023#lmk fan children#jttw inspo fan children#jttw inspo ocs#sun wukong#liu er mihou#six eared macaque
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SHATTERED SOUL
Eris angst :( not even x reader. just him being sad. Sorry in advance.
Warnings: heavy abuse, blood, very sad I think (it was when I wrote it.) also not proofread… and I think I italicized everything that needed to be??
Word Count: 1.3K
Shatter: to hold something to tightly that it would break.
That’s all Eris had, really.
Broken things.
Nothing physical, really, aside from a few bones and lacerations in his skin. But those broken bones bore a broken body, broken soul. His broken mindset, which was instilled in him since he was young, to rule them, you have to break them.
His father’s words rang in his ears as the male tossed and turned all night. One of those all too common sleepless nights. Wallowing in self pity, hatred swarming his mind - he hated that this was the life he was born into, hated that he did nothing about it, hated that he couldn’t, hated that he gave up so easily.
Hated that no matter how many brothers his mother gave him, how many servants swore their loyalty to him, how many soldiers died for him, how many females he bedded, he truly had no one. No other soul that could bare those secrets he kept, could see the mangled up body his father created and manage not to vomit. Hell - it made him want to.
There was nobody to calm his fits of rage, when the fire all but consumed him, burning the furniture and wooden walls of his bedchamber. “Not a soul,” his mother murmured to herself, running her hand through the young male’s red curls. She watched the craftsmen reinforce his room with iron - the walls and doors thick and heavy enough that should Eris combust into flame, he would not burn down the whole estate. Not one ember could escape; or enter, Eris thought.
“It is for our protection,” his father reminded him, just a young male of seven. “So you don’t go around incinerating the whole damn house.” Eris’s grip on his porcelain fox tightened. A keepsake his mother gifted him - she fixed it neatly on his bedside table once he’d grown out of his crib. Eris was too afraid to leave it in the room with all the workers; his favorite little fox must be protected. “You don’t own these Fae,” Beron continued, referring to the servants and maids that bustled around the Forest House. “I do. You will be best to keep your fire to yourself in there.”
He continued, despite turning to walk down the hall. “Should you throw another fit to burn down your bedchamber, no one will be able to enter. That includes - ” his voice raised. “To save you.”
Eris flinched, not at the words, the hateful language his father offered him since the day he was born, but at the shatter in his hands. The broken pieces of glass that sliced his fingers and carried his crimson blood to the marble floor.
Beron turned on his heel from the end of the corridor. Lady of Autumn waited with baited breath as she tried to anticipate her husband’s next move. But he only nodded. “Good. I hated that thing anyway.” With that, he turned away, leaving his son and pregnant wife to watch the remainder of the male’s cage be welded together.
The first of many broken things, Eris thought, holding his pillow over his head, trying to block out any of the light and noise that just wasn’t there, yet blurred his mind and evaded him of sleep.
He’d learned to suppress the flames.
All by himself.
All alone in that iron room.
It was something he’d taught his brothers, too, once they grew of age. Eris was the only one with the metal walls - he was the only one that needed it. He’d protected the rest of them enough to prevent them from burning down the house, instead accidentally wiping out whole orchards and half the Autumn forest.
He mastered the flames for himself and all his brothers. He no longer burned hotter than a thousand suns when he was angered. He didn’t burn down his bedroom, nor the furniture.
But Eris could never master the art of suppressing his anger. When he was eighteen, he shattered the whole entirety of his bathtub.
The day he’d left Morrigan in the woods, just across the Autumn Border, his father nearly killed him. Not for anything he particularly did, but for the simple embarrassment he caused the High Lord. There wasn’t anything else she should have done (aside from maybe executing her) that his father would have preferred. But for the Night Court to spit in the face of Autumn? By offering their heir a female who’d rather lie with Illyrian scum than Autumn royalty? It enraged him.
Eris actually wished Beron killed him adter enduring the beating his father gave him. A male that barely reached an age in the double-digits, held by two of Autumn’s strongest soldiers, beaten bloody, chained up and whipped until he passed out. He didn’t know he could be burned so badly - not with his own fire powers swirling through his veins. But he couldn’t keep up, too tired, too tired, too much blood loss. He couldn’t ward off his father’s flames with his own, he couldn’t stand, could barely breathe, let alone produce flame.
And when he finally recovered enough to winnow from the cellar to his room - the cage, he’d strangely never felt safer in - he laid on the expensive rug, dry blood flaking off his body, until he healed. Until he could drag himself to the bath to clean his wounds.
He sat in the tub, right in the center, hunched over in the water that began to boil around him due to the heat the male was emitting. His hands reached for either side of the tub wall, fingers gripping the edge until his pale knuckles ran truly white.
A soft gasp left his lips when the walls around him shattered and the water fell from around him. He loosed a string of profanity when he shook his foggy head and realized what happened. Streams of fresh red blood ran down his arms and dripped over his wet legs. He carelessly plucked away the thick shards of porcelain and cursed the Mother - and himself.
His mother promptly replaced it with a copper one.
Eris rolled over in his bed, throwing the pillow aside and turning away from the bathing room, instead facing the wall of windows. The heavy drapes were all drawn shut - not an ounce of light entered his bedchamber. But his eyes burned bright regardless.
He didn’t know how to calm his little fits of anger.
But he dreamt of a lover that could.
Someone who didn’t fear his fire, he wouldn’t have to suppress his flames around her, he could let the harmless hellfire run circles around them, encapsulating him and his lover in a blaze reserved just for the two of them.
He dreamt of a time and world where he we wasn’t broken - where he wasn’t breaking things. One where the teacups didn’t shatter under his touch and slice his palms. Where he could look at his lover and remember that his world was not ending. That no matter how much his father beat him and berated him, he could leave and there was someone to hold each night.
Or a not-so-far-off world where she would pick the glass from his wounds and kiss his hands until they were healed. And he would let the tears fall from his eyes, she would brush them away with the faintest touch. And everything he’d been holding in for the past five hundred years would be worth it, just for one moment with her.
And for the millionth time, he laid in bed, hot and skin coated with sweat, trying not to erupt into a fit of flames, he dreamt of a a lover that held him tight. So tight, she would keep him from breaking.
But Eris holding her so tight that she might break. That she’d crack in his arms and fill all the voids he had in his broken sliced skin, between his bones, and through all the ridges of his scars. That you’d become one whole being - shared breath, shared space, shared soul.
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Old Man Fox, or How the Black Cherry Elves were Made
Prose guest written by @sauntervaguelydown
“Once, long ago, when the Gods went abroad on the earth and there was neither day nor night, Lady Sour and Lady Sweet lived in a great house between two orchards. This was before the age of people, when the world lay wild and empty. In this time, Lady Sweet kept a garden where all sweet and small and lovely things grew. In this garden, most particularly, she had a cherry tree. The cherries of this tree were so dark, so delicious, and so sweet, that if you were to eat one, you would never want to eat another fruit in your life.
Old Man Fox, he wanted those cherries. For weeks he circled the great garden, but the walls were too high to climb, and the gate was too sturdy to break. At last, Old Man Fox had an idea. When Lady Sour was far away in the orchard and out of sight, Old Man Fox went to the front door and hid himself in the bushes. Then he yowled and yelped and howled, making the most pitiful noises. Lady Sweet heard the noises from her kitchen and rushed out, thinking perhaps that her sister had fallen on the steps. She threw open the door and rushed out, leaving the house open, whereupon Old Man Fox darted past her and into the house. On the kitchen table there was a bowl of deep red cherries, gathered up for baking. He had only just begun to take the bowl when Lady Sweet returned and found him there, bowl in arms and mouth full of berries. She shouted and chased him round the kitchen, pestle in hand, until finally she drove him out the front door and into the trees.
Afraid that Lady Sweet would send her sister the sun after him, Old Man Fox kept running a long long time. At last he ran to the edge of a dark, dense wood; the limbs of the trees wove tightly into a canopy that blocked all sun from the forest floor. Out of sight there, he curled up in a thicket and he ate the stolen cherries at his leisure, spitting their pits out as he feasted.
As he lay sleeping, the cherry pits took root in the ground and grew. Each of them, discarded, became an elf of graceful proportions. Cherry red and cherry black they were, and pale, for the sun could not touch the forest floor where they grew. When Old Man Fox woke, he was astonished to find himself surrounded with children. They asked him if he would be their father and come show them how to live.
Old Man Fox said to them: “Father I may be, and live I may know how, but I will not go with you wherever you are going, for I am a Fox, and foxes do not live as people do.”
Nevertheless, they made such a nuisance of themselves that at length Old Man Fox obliged. He taught them the nature of fire, and the growing of things, and the changing of the seasons. He taught them songs and spells, and the names of Gods, and many more mysteries. But when they began to fashion houses for themselves above the forest floor, he would not join them where they lived. Even now he walks beneath the cities instead, silent and silvery under our lamplights, rarely heard and still more rarely seen.
And if you ask me how I know this, I will tell you it was my mother who told me, and my mother was always right.”
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NEW PLAYLIST: A SEASON OF PEACE
An Unconventional Song List For The Holiday Season
Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring - Academy of St. Martins In The Fields
Orchard House - Thomas Newman
A Mighty Fortress Is Our God - South German Madrigal Choir
Circle of Steel - Gordon Lightfoot
Sometimes In Winter - Blood, Sweat & Tears
The Stockford Carol - Loreena McKennitt
Ave Generosa - Gothic Voices
Gabriel's Message - Sting
I Believe In Father Christmas - Emerson, Lake & Palmer
Northern Sky - Nick Drake
Christmas Must Be Tonight - The Band
Hymnus_Jesu Redemptor Omnium In Navititate Domini - Schola Cantorum of Amsterdam Students
Song For A Winter's Night - Gordon Lightfoot
Christmas Song - Jethro Tull
Run With The Fox - Chris Squire & Alan White
Snow - Loreena McKennitt
Kyrie - The Hilliard Ensemble
A Winter's Snowscape - Jethro Tull
I'll Find My Way Home - Jon & Vangelis
Sleepers Awake - The Empire Brass
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Hide your wallets, it's that time again! Your daily thread of romance deals is ready, FREE to $1.99!
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I enjoyed this one
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Listen, says fox, it is music to run
over the hills to lick
dew from the leaves to nose along
the edges of the ponds to smell the fat
ducks in their bright feathers but
far out, safe in their rafts of sleep. It is like
music to visit the orchard, to find
the vole sucking the sweet of the apple, or the
rabbit with his fast-beating heart. Death itself
is a music. Nobody has ever come close to
writing it down, awake or in a dream. It cannot
be told. It is flesh and bones
changing shape and with good cause, mercy
is a little child beside such an invention. It is
music to wander the black back roads
outside of town no one awake or wondering
if anything miraculous is ever going to
happen, totally dumb to the fact of every
moment's miracle. Don't think I haven't
peeked into windows. I see you in all your seasons
making love, arguing, talking about God
as if he were an idea instead of the grass,
instead of the stars, the rabbit caught
in one good teeth-whacking hit and brought
home to the den. What I am, and I know it, is
responsible, joyful, thankful. I would not
give my life for a thousand of yours.
Mary Oliver
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NoveList Combo: Haunting Literary Fiction
Did you know NoveList is a database you can access with your library card to find reading recommendations? Find your next favorite read with this fantastic readers tool! Check it out on our website here.
Life After Life by Kate Atkinson
What if you could live again and again, until you got it right?
On a cold and snowy night in 1910, Ursula Todd is born to an English banker and his wife. She dies before she can draw her first breath. On that same cold and snowy night, Ursula Todd is born, lets out a lusty wail, and embarks upon a life that will be, to say the least, unusual. For as she grows, she also dies, repeatedly, in a variety of ways, while the young century marches on towards its second cataclysmic world war.
Does Ursula's apparently infinite number of lives give her the power to save the world from its inevitable destiny? And if she can - will she?
This is the first volume in the "Todd Family" series.
The Orchardist by Amanda Coplin
You belong to the earth, and the earth is hard.
At the turn of the twentieth century, in a rural stretch of the Pacific Northwest in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains, a solitary orchardist named Talmadge carefully tends the grove of fruit trees he has cultivated for nearly half a century. A gentle, solitary man, he finds solace and purpose in the sweetness of the apples, apricots, and plums he grows, and in the quiet, beating heart of the land--the valley of yellow grass bordering a deep canyon that has been his home since he was nine years old. Everything he is and has known is tied to this patch of earth. It is where his widowed mother is buried, taken by illness when he was just thirteen, and where his only companion, his beloved teenaged sister Elsbeth, mysteriously disappeared. It is where the horse wranglers--native men, mostly Nez Perce--pass through each spring with their wild herds, setting up camp in the flowering meadows between the trees.
One day, while in town to sell his fruit at the market, two girls, barefoot and dirty, steal some apples. Later, they appear on his homestead, cautious yet curious about the man who gave them no chase. Feral, scared, and very pregnant, Jane and her sister Della take up on Talmadage's land and indulge in his deep reservoir of compassion. Yet just as the girls begin to trust him, brutal men with guns arrive in the orchard, and the shattering tragedy that follows sets Talmadge on an irrevocable course not only to save and protect them, putting himself between the girls and the world, but to reconcile the ghosts of his own troubled past.
The Paper Palace by Miranda Cowley Heller
It is a perfect July morning, and Elle, a fifty-year-old happily married mother of three, awakens at "The Paper Palace"—the family summer place which she has visited every summer of her life. But this morning is different: last night Elle and her oldest friend Jonas crept out the back door into the darkness and had sex with each other for the first time, all while their spouses chatted away inside.
Now, over the next twenty-four hours, Elle will have to decide between the life she has made with her genuinely beloved husband, Peter, and the life she always imagined she would have had with her childhood love, Jonas, if a tragic event hadn't forever changed the course of their lives.
The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey
Alaska, 1920: a brutal place to homestead, and especially tough for recent arrivals Jack and Mabel. Childless, they are drifting apart--he breaking under the weight of the work of the farm; she crumbling from loneliness and despair. In a moment of levity during the season's first snowfall, they build a child out of snow. The next morning the snow child is gone--but they glimpse a young, blonde-haired girl running through the trees. This little girl, who calls herself Faina, seems to be a child of the woods. She hunts with a red fox at her side, skims lightly across the snow, and somehow survives alone in the Alaskan wilderness. As Jack and Mabel struggle to understand this child who could have stepped from the pages of a fairy tale, they come to love her as their own daughter. But in this beautiful, violent place things are rarely as they appear, and what they eventually learn about Faina will transform all of them.
#literary fiction#fiction#haunting#library books#book recs#book recommendations#reading recommendations#reading recs#tbr#tbr pile#to read#booklr#book tumblr#book blog#library blog
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marine and charles invited the both to a an afternoon snack at the veranda.
"i'm so happy to meet you mr. and mrs. harlington. you have a beautiful farm!"
"nice to meet you too, emma. jack told us a lot about you. do you already feel comfortable in henford? it´s a small village so everybody knows everybody. this can be uncommon for outsiders but i guess it is pretty beneficial for the community."
"yes, i love the countryside. and i already made some friends, like lena from finchwick. happily, it is easy to make friends here when you like gardening and drinking craft beer.", emma smiled shyly.
"oh i get what you mean. i was also a newcomer once and quickly made friends. you mention you like gardening? feel free to explore our land, we have a thriving orchard around here."
after the meal, jack and emma wanted to spend some time togehter so they made up their way to the orchard. jack handed emma a watering can and they had lots of fun taking care of the garden. emma even befriended some songbirds!
objectives
☒ have “simple living” and “wild foxes” as the lot challenges for your home.
☒ have at minimum 1 llama, 1 cow, and 1 chicken coop.
☐ get the “green thumb” reward trait.
☐ complete the plants collection (18/32).
☐ win at least 3 times at the finchwick fair in henford. (1/3)
☒ befriend wild birds and bunnies.
☐ all children must complete the mental aspiration.
optional goals
☐ Get nosy! Matchmake or break up 2 sims in Henford. there will be consequences! If you matchmake 2 sims, you will have to pay for their wedding (1,000 simoleons). if you break up 2 sims, you must marry one of them.
☐ run at least 1 errand everyday for the townies in henford.
☐ acquire the “outdoorsy” lifestyle for both your sim and their spouse.
☐ master these skills: cross-stitching (2/5), gardening (5/10).
#gen1emmacarter#the postcard legacy challenge#postcard legacy#tplc#ts4#the sims 4#sims 4 simblr#ts4 gameplay#legacy challenge#sojuteatime#the farmer
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I got up out of bed at like midnight last night to record this narrative of important noises that I heard through the window while staying at my parents' house. Context: these days I tend to sleep in the loft over the garage which is a combo office/workout/puzzles/guest bedroom space, since if my siblings and their families are there, it is, among other things, v important for the potty-training toddlers to be in the main house closest to the bathrooms. The property lies between two roads so from the loft's back window you look out over the back yard with a bunch of apple trees, the main road, a soccer field, and then up a slope to some woods and a pond. Due to some quirks of the landscape and the acoustics and the quietness of the neighborhood, sound...carries.
So as I am trying to fall asleep last night, I note a few melodies of the night, in the following sequence of events:
Bull frogs, from the pond up the hill
Deer munching on early apples in the yard, muttering and sighing to themselves, a sound that is quite unnerving when coming only a couple yards from your head
Some dudebro approaching on the sidewalk along the road out back. I thought he was with someone or on the phone with somebody, but as he got closer, I realized he was either recording or livestreaming himself narrating as he walked...
Around the point where dudebro comes into view from the window, I see the silhouette of a fox darting across the road. Dudebro is suitably surprised and says something along the lines of "whoa did you see that" despite being entirely alone, which is about when I clue in to the livestream portion of whatever is happening
Dudebro's talking startles the deer in the orchard, deer take off running across road in front of dudebro and setting off a bunch of motion-detector lights
Dudebro narrates his alarm to his audience, audibly unnerved by the numerous dark shadowy shapes emerging constantly around him, and then adds: "We're going to do something called a light jog now, this is what I do cardio for" and takes off running in the opposite direction down the road
(end scene)
#observations#night noise#i suppose he could have been video chatting someone but it did not sound like a 2-way conversation at all
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@onlyheartaches asked: Alt!!
Send me "alt!" and I'll introduce you to a charecter I've rped in the past, want to play in the future or are currently playing somewhere else!
“ Are you sure, Darling? I thought we agreed they would eat from the northern section of the orchard this season. It’s fruits had grown better for them and we can still sell the ones on the eastern block to the market and for your potions. “ She looked puzzled, confused even as she put on her coat to go outside. A large flying fox bat resting upon her shoulder hunched over and clinging to her jacket. Raising a hand she’d brush it through their fur as he chattered a greeting before settling into a comfortable spot and continuing to talk at the red haired vampire.
“ Hold on, Brutus. I just need to make sure you get the best we have to offer. Ruthie had already been fed so there’s no need to get your wings in a twist. “
-------------------------------------------------------
Unnamed (because i want to change her name) Threnody Vampire OC I have made who lives with an OC made by @diadxrling
She’s a vampire who basically is like cottage core living in the country and running a fruit farm with her wife/gf/significant other.
She takes care of a hoard of fruit bats who live in a cave near the farm and she’s taken care of them through the generations and offers them a safe place for them to live their elderly days in. Making sure to give them medicine and medical treatment if needed and warding off any predators for them.
Her major hobby is gardening and while she can’t eat the food she grows she will grow it for her significant other to use in spells and make sure she eats well to live a long happy life with. She isn’t much connected with Vampire Clans or politics as she had left it long ago an a scuffle with her family who are now all dead. Some by her hand.
Her FaceClaim is from The Devil Knows Your Name (webcomic)
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Best story about Ben being drunk???
Oh, God.
Humiliation nipped at Ben’s features, his shoulders sagging in resignation. He never, ever should’ve agreed to this drinking game -- telling the truth coupled with a bit of ale was never a good idea -- but since he had agreed to honesty, and most of the men present probably weren’t going to remember his tale anyway, he decided he might as well be forthright.
“I suppose it was one of the first times I was ever foxed,” Ben offered. “I’m usually fairly decent at holding my own, but one night -- back when I was around four-and-ten -- Caleb and Abe came by with some whiskey they’d swiped from the judge’s liquor cabinet.” Ben sighed, already feeling a headache coming on. Pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, he continued, “I crawled out my bedroom window, and thankfully without rousing Samuel, before dropping down and running off with them to the Brewster orchard. We liked to drink there on occasion, or take peeks at the lewd drawings Caleb gleaned from his uncle’s ‘private collection.’”
Wait. Perhaps he should have omitted that last part...
Cheeks growing hot, Ben quickly barreled on, “Being the clotpoles we were, we could never keep ourselves out of trouble at that age. Caleb was the eldest, so he was always trying to push our limits...and on that night, mine assuredly was pushed.” He winced and waved a hand. “I ended up losing a few rounds of whist, so that meant I had to be the one who did whatever the others commanded. And Caleb, the smug arsehole, told me to go moon my schoolmaster and his family. So I did.”
By now, Ben’s face was so red that he felt uncomfortably warm. “I was barely steady, so Abe and Caleb both had to help me up to the house. Though once I knocked, those cowards turned tail and ran, leaving me there to fend for myself. Only, I’d already turned and dropped my breeches before I even realized they’d gone, so once the door opened and I heard Schoolmaster Barnes’ wife scream, I realized too little too late I was on my own.” He laughed then, finally amused amidst his embarrassment. “Those stuffed shirts deserved to see my arse, but as to be expected, I got the tanning of my life for that stunt. My father certainly didn’t find it amusing.”
#Anonymous#about ben#//i feel like caleb or abe would be better at telling this#but i only npc them in threads and would feel weird writing them here#though ben would definitely be shouting over top of them like NO! STOP!#I AM GOOD! CHRISTIAN BOY!!!#anyway sorry for taking forever#for some reason setauket childhood stories take me a really long time to come up with
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It was with disgust that I met Mister Lumbox, our new neighbour. He was plump, like an egg, and had the pallor of a sun-bleached painting. He smelled as if he had just finished tending his hounds despite an almost unsettling insistence that he loathed the animals. The barking, he insisted, and the liveliness. Were it not for the days to follow, he would have faded from my mind the moment he left my view. He spoke of the weather as if it were the latest fashion from France. He described the blandest grey clouds with a wild look in his eye, with the fervour of a bishop at Sunday service. I would presume his favourite dish to be porridge, and his favourite text the English Lawbook of The Century. He complained that The Taming Of The Shrew was too lively- and that the world would be better off without the stage. He found the dullest London weather to be far too dry for his tastes, preferring the dankness of his own hovel. In essence, he was the perfect Englishman. I suspect that his favourite colour was that of an overcooked yolk, grey and desiccated from being forgotten in the pot.
Still, my sister welcomed him in, for he came to pay his respects upon the death of our father. Upon the day of his funeral, I wore my gayest dress and danced beneath the falling petals of our apple orchard, but I digress. Back to the story at hand. He grinned, with his teeth the perfect picture of the Manchester skyline, and said he was a business partner of our late father. I had not known our father was a man of business but Mister Lumbox insisted that our father was the “sole proprietor of many a factory back home, what with all of his shrewd… Investments.” In that pause, I saw the nose of Mister Lumbox twitch, as a fox’s nose would while pursuing prey in the wilds at the edge of our property.
“Kind sir, would you be staying for tea? I can send for an extra plate at the table today, with-” My dear twin sister, so kind in her words and demeanour, was rudely cut off by that sphere of a man. “Ah, no, thank you. Tea upsets my delicate stomach. Although, if you have a leg of ham, I would relish that for my trip home.” came the reply of the man. I imagined what would happen if his carriage home happened across an accident. Would he bounce, or simply roll his way home? “As for you,” Mister Lumbox turned his attention towards me, sweating from the exertion of a simple rotation, “Find yourself some fitting clothes. You are now the man of the house- what business have you in a dress? You are lucky I do not strike you with my cane for defiling my eyes.”
My sister, stunned, stood silent. I, on the other hand, knew exactly how to handle men like him. I ran away and locked myself in my roon. Now, I only have my pen and paper for comfort, and the tender knock at the door tells me that the man has gone. The voice of my sister, gentle and weak, tells me she has told Mister Lumbox he is no longer welcome here. I fear that I may have to make an appearance in public, to keep the facade up. Oh, how I despise being in the public eye! Perhaps I could run away, live a new life in the colonies. Although, I have heard they are quite lacking in both tea and manners.
Tomorrow will bring its own challenges, but for today I am glad to have my sister and our staff here. I am quite certain that Mister Lumbox will find himself in an accident, as my dinner was brought up by our dear butler Peregrine, alongside the axle bolts from that garish man’s carriage.
#my writing#writing#author#victorian#short story#i might continue this#who knows#funny#words words words#short reads#tw: transphobia#tw: homophobia
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Color Analysis of Kurosawa's "Dreams"
Dreams by Akira Kurosawa is unwavering and multifaceted through its seamless retelling of stories, and it uses every strong suit that a film can utilize. From touching tales about nature to the horrors of post World War II Japan, Kurosawa depicts masterful blocking, talent, screenwriting, themes, framing, and more in the eight stories that he has to tell. However, arguably one of the strongest aspects about this film is his use of color. Each story presents a unique color palette that serves a purpose, and adds to every scene in various ways, whether it is a bright and colorful palette, or a dark and dreary one.
“Sunshine Through the Rain”
The first dream of the film entails a boy’s mother telling him that he shouldn’t go out because on days that sun shines through the rain, kitsune would have their weddings and they do not like to be seen. They stand in front of their house, a dull gray color. The boy is wearing a white robe with black dots in the dream, the white perhaps signifying innocence, and rebelling against his mother he goes into a forest. The forest is a lush green with warm sunlight shining through, a stark contrast to the previous scene, and as the boy goes deeper he finds what his mother warned him of. The kitsune all don masks and blue robes, except the assumed bride and the groom, the bride in all white attire and the groom in gray and red. They all wear different colored headdresses, perhaps implying differe roles, and they spot the boy hiding behind a tree. He runs back to his mother, who tells him that a fox had dropped off a knife at their house, and that he has to go to the rainbow where they live and apologize to them and they must accept, or else he will have to take his own life with the knife. He rushes back through the forest and into an opening of a bright, dreamy vast field of grass and bright-colored flowers, yellow, pink, red, white, and purple. Here he reaches the rainbow, and the dream ends. It is somewhat of a nightmare, at least from the boy’s perspective, and the story’s dark nature is a compelling contrast to the bright and colorful layout of the forest and field scenes. He emphasizes this contrast by filming the house scenes in much duller and cooler colors as well. Kurosawa achieves a great dream-like quality in the field scene, with the haze of the rain, the rainbow centered, the blue-hued mountains in the background, and the flowers. It seems that Kurosawa was giving the audience a glimpse into his psyche, and within this dream specifically, his childhood anxieties. A boy anxious to grow up and marry, even though the prospect might be beautiful, but at the same time curious and mesmerized at the world. There are also themes of nature vs. people, as the boy’s world of humans appears dull and unsatisfying, while the nature had an innate beauty, a commentary on manmade unhappiness compared to naturally occurring beauty.
“The Peach Orchard”
The boy in this story wears a black/dark purple robe with white dots, almost a direct contrast to the boy from the first dream. This could represent some form of loss of innocence, again, giving us a glimpse into Kurosawa’s childhood. He goes into a house where there are three girls, and examines a wall on which an array of dolls are placed on shelves. The wall is a bright red, and the rest of the walls is extremely dark except for the three girls, who are all wearing multicolored robes. Red is a recurring motif throughout the film, and is used in many of the dreams. He points out to the girls that he thought there was a fourth girl missing, and a plant with pink leaves can be seen outside of the room. He spots the missing girl here, who is dressed in all pink, but she runs away leaving only the pink plant. He runs after the girl into a forest, where there are more pink leaves that can be seen on the ground. Kurosawa’s meticulous color placement is subtle at times, but the subtlety foreshadows what is to happen. He follows the girl to where his family’s peach orchard once was, and in front of him are the dolls on the shelves, but in human form. The apparent leaders of the dolls were wearing bright, all-red clothing, and each group of dolls had a distinct wardrobe. They reveal themselves to be spirits of the peach trees, and they reprimand the boy for his family having the trees chopped down. However, after realizing that the boy had loved the peach trees and even tried to stop his family from cutting them down, they allow him to see the orchard one last time. A shroud of pink peach tree blossoms then covers the screen, and the peach trees manifest from thin air, taking the dolls’ places. The boy sees the girl in pink among the trees ane begins to chase her when the trees abruptly return to their previous chopped state, and only one small tree remains, taking her place. This story largely depicts loss of innocence, both through the boy’s first experience with loss, the peach trees, and his curiosity towards the girl in pink. It is a transitional stage, marked by both the presence of the dark color of his robe and the reappearing pink. It also makes a statement about Kurosawa’s relationship with his parents, and/or authority figures in general. The dolls in red were portrayed as the authority figures in their group and acted hostile towards the boy, and his parents cut down the peach trees that he cherished.
“The Blizzard”
This dream tells the story of four mountaineers caught in a blizzard that has been happening for three days, a cool blue engulfing the scene. Kurosawa immerses the audience into the atmosphere they are experiencing with this color choice; a freezing, dreary, wet wasteland. They all wear yellow attire, and although it is difficult to notice it through the blizzard, it is the only presence of warmth, in the people. Most of them also wear blue hats, a cool tone to represent their diminishing will and function. Eventually three of the men collapse and only the leader is left to go on, but then a woman appears from thin air, causing a warm light to fall onto the man’s face. She tells him “the snow is warm” and “the ice is hot” in an effort to render him unconscious like the rest, and maybe he is convinced for a moment, as the warm light may point towards, but he perseveres and remains conscious until she vanishes into the wind just as she appeared. The rest of the men gain consciousness and the blizzard immediately subsides, only for them to find that they are right next to their camp, a yellow tent with a red flag attached to it. Kurosawa intentionally makes the tent these colors, not only to match the outfits of the men, but because he knows that its warm colors will have an alluring effect to both the characters and the audience after having witnessed the intense blizzard that they just went through.
“The Tunnel”
This story opens with a man walking towards a dark tunnel. Behind him is a mountain range and the scene contains mostly warm, earthy tones. He approaches the tunnel, its darkness framing him in a claustrophobic manner, when from the tunnel a dog emerges. It is covered in a red substance and carrying what can be assumed to be a bomb on its back. It barks at the man to go through the tunnel which he does, and he comes out to red street light. A man appears from behind him coming from the tunnel, in army attire and with his face and hands painted blue. His face is also blackened around the eyes, and the viewer gathers that he is dead. The soldier stands in front of the tunnel, the darkness framing his cool tone, meanwhile the main character is cast in a warm light. The main character turns out to be the dead man’s commander, and after realizing he is actually dead, the soldier marches back into the tunnel. Soon after though, the entire third platoon that the main character was in command of, also march out of the tunnel, all dead as well with the same blue face paint. The man tells the platoon that they are dead, and he takes the blame for it. He commands them one last time to march back into the tunnel, and in his moment of grief when they disappear, the dogs reappears from the tunnel, snarling at him. This story examines themes of life vs. death, expressed in the blue makeup, representing death, and the warmer lights representing life. The first soldier that comes out reaches out towards a yellow light in the distance, expressing that he wants to go home and live, but cannot because he is dead. The red light may represent existence, but one experienced through guilt and PTSD, as the main character depicts. He cannot control that he is reminded of his past, and even though it may be difficult to live with the guilt, he carries on.
“Crows”
A man walks through an art gallery with the paintings of Vincent Van Gogh. He lingers for a moment on his painting of crows flying above a wheat field, the last one he made before he killed himself. The man is then transported into a painting, depicting a bridge over water and people next to the bridge. Kurosawa masterfully recreates the painting by replicating it for the scene, choosing to paint the bricks of the bridge to make the colors more accurate to the painting, and the whole world seems more saturated and vibrant. In traveling through the painting, the man finds Van Gogh himself, painting a scene of a wheat field. They talk about art, and Van Gogh vanishes to go paint something, walking into a field and scaring the crows away. The way Kurosawa manipulates the frame to evoke paintings is impressive and the final product is beautiful. After Van Gogh disappears, the man sees a gray version of the world, the only color being emitted from the sun. This serves to immerse the viewer into what it might have felt like to be Van Gogh before the time of his death; a world full of color that had been drained, when your whole life was devoted to creating beautiful, vibrant paintings. Seeing this change in the film after being shown a world that intentionally mimics these paintings is devastating, and coupled with the fact that the audience knows Van Gogh is about to end his own life, makes for an emotional watch. Kurosawa utilizes the power of color to create an emotional impact, and it works brilliantly.
“Mount Fuji in Red”
This dream opens to a frame of a nuclear power plant explosion by Mount Fuji, the background cloaked in bright red flames, so hot that you can see the snow melting off of the mountain’s peak. Thousands of people are attempting to flee the island, some even jumping to their deaths. A man, a woman with two children, and an older man stand next to a ledge above the ocean, as three distinctly colored gases emerge from explosion. The yellow one, the older mans explains, causes leukemia, the red causes cancer, and the purple causes birth defects. The older man remarks on the foolishness of having the gases be certain colors to code them, because it is going to kill everyone regardless of if people can differentiate them or not. As the gases approach, the lighting of the scene becomes much brighter, emanating a warm hue, and signaling the nearing end of their lives. Kurosawa also utilizes the juxtaposition between water behind the characters, compared with the flames that are engulfing Mount Fuji to emphasize the extreme danger. Additionally, Kurosawa brings back the red motif, representing death.
“The Weeping Demon”
This dream opens up to a bleak world destroyed by nuclear fallout, with lots of grays and a heavy fog. The only living things are people with mutated horns on their heads because of the radiation, and enlarged dandelions, which provide some of the only color. There is also the presence of one pink flower, which could be foreshadowing a later scene with the presence of bright red/pink. The “demon” that talks to the man wears a blue and red outfit, but it’s so worn that it’s difficult to see the color. The only other intense presence of color can be found at the end when the rest of the horned people are revealed, and they gather around two pools of a bright red liquid, which could be assumed to be blood. Once again, red makes an appearance as the presence of danger. The only signs of life other than the humans are the mutated dandelions and the bright red pools that once were living people. The pink flower that is seen towards the beginning prepares the viewer for what is to come, and Kurosawa implements many clues like this throughout his dreams. For example, the pink leaves and pink plant in the peach orchard story and the dog being covered in red during the tunnel dream. It creates a cohesive and interesting narrative, because it leaves the viewer to wonder why he made those specific choices.
“The Village of the Water Mills”
The final story that Kurosawa has to tell us is of an isolated village, where modern technology does not exist and the people take on a more traditional way of life. The village is lush with nature, with no sign of pollution or human intervention except for the water mills, as marked by the bright green trees and grass, the clear running water, and the various flowers of different bright colors that grow. An old man attends a funeral, but it is not a typical one; everyone is in colorful attire, and cheerful music is being played by a band. A funeral in this village is a celebration of life, not a mourning of death. Kurosawa portrays this through the colorful attire that the people wear, and the sunny day that it takes place on, as well as the life in the form of flourishing and colorful nature that surrounds it. The main character also puts down a yellow flower on a stone to commemorate a death, and later at the end of the dream, a yellow butterfly flies across the screen. This symbolizes the cycle and continuation of life, especially emphasized through nature. It is a very Thoreau-esque story, placing importance on the natural beauty of life, and deemphasizing modern technology through the symbolism of color.
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