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#also I find it hilarious that all the alumni I met are only on their 2nd lol

toujoursmiraculous · 3 years

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Thoughts & Reactions to Sole Crusher & Queen Banana!

Here's my 2 in 1! Starting with Sole Crusher. Loved the tourist feel in the beginning, gives it a very different feel and interesting to see it from Zoe's perspective. Aww Zoe's so nice to Marinette right away. And it's awfully sad that she only ever had one friend. :c I wonder who that friend is? Zoe's right about her family not appreciating the baked goods from the Dupain-Cheng bakery. I don't know if she's fully aware of the history there, or if she just knows how picky her mother and sister are. But it was awfully sweet of her to give them to the tour guide to give to her family instead. So Zoe learned: in order to survive, she had to put on an act and be somebody she's not, because her family wouldn't accept her being a decent person that cares about others. When asked about her middle school, her response, "I found a cockroach in my locker!" Might not be true, doesn't sound like it's the only thing at all if so, but sadly it was enough for her mom to not question anything.

Chloe's definitely a lot worse now after Miracle Queen. In my opinion, this is us beginning to see how low she's gotten and will continue to get. As Avatar Aang once said, "When we reach our lowest point, we are open to the greatest change." I'll write more on this in a separate post later. Zoe's sure scared to object to anything and be herself. Not even hesitating to act like a brat when around Chloe. If she didn't end up growing up around Chloe, how horrible are her parents??? We know Audrey is pretty bad, but even then if she had a decent dad she'd likely not end up like this. I suppose we'll have to see, but this poor girl. :/ Rose: Can we adopt her? Lol awww. Wonderful of Marinette to know that after only one brief encounter with Zoe, she knows that the Zoe at school isn't really her, and wants to genuinely help. How can anybody hate that about her? I don't get it. If it's because she doesn't do things how you'd like them...Most things in life won't go as you want them, or be taken by others as you may intend them, so you have to appreciate what's there and the intent of others actions. "But my family made me think that to deserve my place, I had to give up on some of my dreams." If Andre's talking about his parents here, as he said "When I was young", then oof this poor man, no wonder he's so timid and such a pushover. If he's referring to Audrey and Chloe... then that's a huge oof because Audrey knew exactly who she was marrying and should've never ended up with him in the first place if she didn't want to be with a director. So Zoe left because she couldn't stand it in New York anymore around her dad and the kids at her school. She hoped that she wouldn't have to act anymore and could just be herself. It really sounds like she needed to act a certain way in order to survive getting bullied, or worse. Dang, she really must not have met Chloe before then, or heard anything about her if she thought living with her mom and sister would be better. But in a way, it is better for her, because she has Marinette and the kids at school now. And she has Andre who's probably a better parent to her than her actual parents. Which is surprising and also not at the same time. "We end up hiding our feelings deep down in here." Okay so he says that with a booklet that has Emilie's face on it held up to his chest. Now, it may just be nothing but him thinking about his director dream. But. It could've also been any other object he held to his heart, it could've been something without a face on it or at least not her face. And Andre did work with Emilie. So I would not be surprised at all if there was something there that this is hinting at. Hmmmm. Also, I guess that's not Tomoe Tsurugi? Even though it's Kagami's model they used. And she's really pretty, too! Maybe something will come from this, or the animators didn't think it through when they added that image. Who knows. Even Chloe's first thought when she's in trouble is to go to Marinette what the heck 😂 When Kaalki teleported into Adrien's room...had Adrien turned around as it

happened he would've seen enough of her room to recognize it. Instead the portal changed and was outdoors. But lol poor Kaalki slamming against the window! All his things getting sucked in and Plagg's cheese was hilarious. XD Chloe's second thought of where to go: Luka's. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. 🤔 "This winner and loser thing doesn't exist!" Sad that Chloe thinks this way at all, who even taught her this? x.x Chat Noir: Did somebody start off on the wrong foot today? Marinette: I'm not finished! Chat Noir: Huh? LOL I laughed so hard at this moment. Did she forget who she is at the moment because even Chat's like what "I will always support you!" AWWWWWW what a good friend! And I think by helping Zoe become stronger, she'll in turn help Chloe be a better person too. But I'll talk about this again later. Poor Sabrina in this episode, my goodness. She works in a tiny closet and has to run along the limo. Chloe's seriously getting awful. Zoe's charm is the cutest one so far! So pretty. Ivan giving Zoe a hug was the cutest thing ever. Like, I don't ship them, but this shouldn't have anything to do with it. He and the rest of the kids care about her and respect her for being open and honest with her struggles, and want to be there for her. It's so wholesome. 😭 I find it interesting that even Audrey in this episode doesn't always know how to react to Chloe. xD But thank you Andre for caring enough about her to keep her in Paris and trying to keep some peace between the two. "For the first time in my life, I feel at home." 😭😭😭😭😭 Just imagine for a minute if Marinette didn't bother to help Zoe, believed how she acted at school rather than when she met her, and didn't tell the other kids about what was going on. Everything for her would be so drastically different. All because Marinette showed some kindness. Now onto Queen Banana. Well poor Marinette can't help but faceplant on the news. xD I can just tell what Alya leaned into say "You okay, girl?" and Marinette mumbling under the cape, "that's what the news is going to see of me, aren't they?" "Afraid so." "groan" Ah okay, Thomas was an alumni of the school. Cool. Poor Andre, he's just doing what Zoe suggested of him and not give up his dream of directing! I wonder if being around Luka and Juleka made Zoe want to put that pink streak in her hair. xD I want Luka and Zoe to be really good friends, that'd be so cool. Chloe being really awful some more. To everybody. I've noticed a pattern and I think I have her figured out pretty well. I'll be writing a in-depth post about her soon! She's making them change the entire movie just for her. xPP I said to my sister, "as soon as she leaves they should just film their original ideas." They do, thank goodness. xD I got so happy that we get an Adrienette scene in this ep! And then I saw he's locked in a cage, willingly, smiling at Marinette while the door shuts and I just burst out laughing. He's not even nervous he's locked in a cage, suspended in the air! Booooooy must like Marinette a lot! "Now let's take care of Adrien and get him out of that cage." OMG thank you, Marinette. While the image of him is comical, it's making me so uncomfortable that someone's up there like that and that someone also being terrified of being locked up in such a small space. Also, how long do you think Adrien would've stayed up there had Marinette not said something? Oh? What a change of pace, when Adrien goes to try to make things better for everyone, he screws it up pretty badly to be what really drives Chloe to get akumatized. She may have cooled off enough on her own as she tells Adrien "I'm fine." ...until he suggests apologizing to everyone. "You promised to stop being rude to everyone. And I told you that we couldn't be friends otherwise." OOF. Okay so her reaction to this really goes into the territory I want to talk about in my upcoming post about Chloe. "Banana BOOM BOOM!" lololol it sounds so funny in German dub xDD Marinette instantly pulling Zoe away from the attack x33 Ladybug's spin move with Chat Noir XD

it's like what's happening we're fighting an akuma not dancing This entire akuma feels like a Donkey Kong game and I love it. Those games are my childhood. Ooof Ladybug needs to be more careful with her Lucky Charms, they can sometimes be massive! Like that giant doughnut in Weredad. I seriously legit thought that the Gorilla was Gorilla, Adrien's bodyguard before the episode aired. XD The best heroes in this show tend to be the ones that have the most self-doubt, have you noticed? Ladybug, Carapace, and Vesperia all expressed serious doubt in themselves being a superhero, but when they suit up they're fierce! Like they were born to be a hero. Don't worry about Chat kissing Vesperia's hand. That's just the way he is, it's not in a flirting way. c: I remember when people freaked out about Rena Rouge and Chat Noir. It's the same as that, nothing more. "Or I'll turn her into baby mush!" LOL Chloe threatening to turn Ladybug into baby food hahaha that sounds so outrageous and weird that it's funny. And yet in this situation, would be actually possible so it's quite disturbing....hm. Dang, Hawk Moth trying to reakumatize her immediately. You go Zoe, speak up for yourself! And good on Andre for putting his foot down about Zoe too. "You may hate me, but I love you. And I'll always love you even if the whole world hates you." OKAY, THAT WAS REALLY BEAUTIFUL. Including the way she convinced Chloe to take the charm. Marinette's literally in hearing range of Adrien as she's talking to Tikki LOL she's like 5-6 feet away maybe? But that's okay, he probably would think nothing of it if he heard Marinette talking lol. I really like Zoe's character, I think she makes a wonderful addition to the show and that her character is extremely important. ;) Again I'll talk about it in my upcoming post! I've really noticed a lot of things when it comes to Chloe that I look forward to sharing my thoughts on sometime early this week. I really don't think things are as clear cut as a lot of people seem to think about her.

#ml #miraculous ladubug #ml spoilers #ml season 4 spoilers #ml spoilers season 4 #sole crusher spoilers #queen banana spoilers

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

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Chapter three! I already skimmed through it and just. Holy fuck I’m falling in love with this series all over again, and this is just the opening arc, how the hell is this so good??? I’m genuinely just in awe and fuck is it making it hard to decide where to have a cut-off point for this chapter. I suppose we’ll just have to see what fate decides.

(Also, the temptation to just paste in all of the last three pages of the chapter is so incredibly strong, you don’t understand.)

[No. 3 - Entrance Exam]

We start off with some exposition: UA’s hero course is designed to give students all they need to go pro, and is the toughest and most popular hero course in the country, with only a 1 in 300 acceptance rate. Discounting the four slots that are recommendation students, that’s 36 slots a year, which is about…

Yeah. That’s a lotta applications, and that’s just for the hero course!

Several alumni are mentioned: All Might, who declined the people’s choice award; Endeavor, who’s stopped more crimes than anyone else in recorded history; and Best Jeanist, who’s won the Best Jeanist award eight years running. (One of these things is not like the other~ One of these things just doesn’t belong~) The exposition suggests that graduating from UA is basically a requirement for becoming a great hero - something which we’ll learn soon enough isn’t quite true.

But yeah, Endeavor with the record for crime handling, even above All Might. Quite the impressive hero, though that face…

Not precisely reassuring.

So yeah, Izuku here mentions the date of the exam - February 26th. I figure that this has to be a Sunday, for the simple fact that Japan has a slightly different school schedule than us. Most notably: Japanese schools (some of them, anyways) have 5.5 day school weeks. Yes, that means the first half of Saturday can still be a school day.

While I couldn’t confirm for sure whether this is more common among the higher end schools, I feel like a school like UA, with its ‘Plus Ultra’ motto, would definitely be a school to have a half-day (or even a full day) on Saturdays, and since they also have to accomodate for middle schools that have Saturday morning classes, I figure that it would make the most sense for UA to schedule this exam on a Sunday.

The benefits of this, as we’ve already seen, is that we can then narrow down the timeline for the rest of the series, just based on that single, confirmed date. We know from the last chapter that the Sludge Villain had to happen on a Thursday or Friday of the first week of school (April 14th/15th), with the first training session two days later (the 16th/17th). But what this also gives us is when Izuku’s first year of UA starts, AND the possible years it could start on.

Since we see the glowing baby is in a modern hospital, we can assume that’s correlated to about our times. Give it a few generations, and we can guess that we’re in the 2200s or 2300s for the current era. Based on that assumption, we get the following years that have February 26th on a Sunday:

23rd century potential years: 2204, 2209, 2215, 2226, 2232, 2237, 2243, 2254, 2260, 2265, 2271, 2282, 2288, 2293, 2299

24th century potential years: 2310, 2316, 2321, 2327, 2338, 2344, 2349, 2355, 2366, 2372, 2377, 2383, 2394, 2400

As a side note, when I got into the series, my brain weirdly latched onto the idea that this had to all be happening in the year 2317. I don’t know why I decided on that number, but that’s what I rolled with, and hilariously I could be RIGHT about the year the current manga arc is happening in, provided Izuku’s first year is in 2316. Sometimes you just know, ya know? I know at least one other friend made these calcs independently of me and chose to run with 2237, which is totally valid! Probably makes more sense to be in the 2200s, but there’s room depending on how much time one thinks has passed.

As for when Izuku’s high school school year starts, we know that Japanese schools start on the second Monday of April. Since we don’t know if this is a leap year or not, we’ll end up with two dates, but that’s fine!

Feb 26 (Sun) -> Feb 27 (Mon) -> March (6/5, 13/12, 20/19, 27/26) -> April (3/2, 10/9)

Therefore, Izuku’s first day of classes (not counting the orientation, which I’ve seen a few other timelines assume is on the Sunday before classes start) is April 10th (or the 9th if a leap year)! I know this is all in the future from this chapter, but still, I wanted to share this at some point and figured now was as good a time as always.

Math!

Sorry, I’ve just wanted to share this math I did for a while now, I put a lot of work into it and I am very proud of it. Let’s get back to the chapter.

So Izuku lives a 40 minute train ride away from UA, and has made it just in time for the exam. Apparently, this is only the practical portion? Or well, that’s the part that gets focused on in this chapter, with no mention of the paper exam. I would imagine they’d be the same day, though? But I suppose one can do whatever they like with it.

He’s standing there looking at the school, thinking about how he didn’t have a chance to test the power, while the other students head in-

Excuse me, Toga?? I know that hairstyle is just a bit off, but… ???

...right, anyways. Izuku is wondering whether the hair really did anything (also, it was apparently sour, which, ew.) Katsuki comes up behind him and tells him to move aside.

Truly a flattering image. Izuku panics a bit and greets him, but Katsuki just walks by without another word or gesture, leaving Izuku confused as he watches him head on into the building. The narrative notes that since the villain incident, Katsuki hadn’t bothered Izuku, while the unnamed characters in the background apparently recognize Katsuki from the ‘sludge’ incident (well, not shocked how the fandom held onto that name).

Izuku notes that he’s gotta stop flinching instinctively, and then tries to hype himself up, noting that it’s not like before, and think about the past ten months while taking a wobbly step forward- and then tripping over himself.

I’m sorry Izuku just has so many fantastic faces in this chapter I am crying trying to limit myself to just a few. But yeah, that little derp as he realizes what’s happening is adorable, especially while Ochako gently sets him back on his feet. She mentions that it’s her quirk, and apologizes for using it, but that it’s a bad omen to trip and fall. (I wonder if that gets played with again during later parts of the series… will have to check to see.)

While Izuku freaks out over talking to a girl, Ochako notes that the exam is nerve-wracking, and then heads off while wishing both of them luck as Izuku stares after.

This fucking kid. I love him so much. His flustered excitement gets him some weird looks from the others still outside.

We transition to a new character (Present Mic) who immediately shows off his performative side by calling for a ‘hey!’ which… is met with silence from the crowd. He doesn’t let this throw him off, instead letting them know that he’ll present the guidelines for the practical, followed with a ‘YEAH!’ that gets met with an even heavier silence.

Izuku and Katsuki are seated next to each other, with Izuku descending right into excited muttering over Present Mic and how he listens to his radio show every week. Also with the assumption that all the UA teachers are pro heroes, which I mean, true, but still. Katsuki tells Izuku to shut up.

Present Mic explains the test: ten minute long ‘mock cityscape maneuvers’, with the applicants split among seven arenas, labelled ‘A’ through ‘G’. With more than 10k applicants total, that’s about…

Yeah, more than 1500 per arena. Fucking hell, no wonder the robots deplete so quickly in only a few minutes. Also of interest:

“Bring along whatever you want.” So technically, if Izuku were able to procure the tech and training to handle the robots, there would be nothing keeping him from getting into UA quirkless… though I imagine any kid who gets in mostly on tech probably gets side-eyed… though if said kid made their OWN tech, they might also get an offer from the Support department.

(AU where Mei accidentally took the heroics exam and got a shitload of points, but she ended up taking the offer for Support instead despite setting the record for most points in said exam. Katsuki forever wants to fight her. Izuku and her are good friends.)

Also, another thing I love is how Katsuki just told Izuku to shut up a moment ago, and then:

He’s the one to initiate conversation on the details of the test, basically agreeing on the reasoning behind dividing up the students between arenas. Katsuki is annoyed at not being able to crush Izuku, which has Izuku awkwardly silent.

Also mini-Mic.

Poor, poor Mic. He just wants audience participation. Anyways, he continues on to explain the points system, with the help of cute little Mario-themed silhouettes. There are three kinds of faux villains, with different points awarded for defeating each based on their difficulty levels. Also, attacking other examinees is prohibited!

A student (cough Tenya) raises their hand to ask a question, going on to note that the handout sheet appears to have four varieties of villain, and that such a blatant error (if it is one) reflects poorly on Japan’s top academy. He then spins around and points at Izuku, calling him out for his muttering and how distracting he’s been, and that ‘if this is some sort of game to you, then please leave immediately!’

Is that… Mineta seated behind Izuku? I can’t find another panel that disproves that theory, so. Whelp. If you ever for some reason want to have Izuku accidentally deal with the grape early, he’s right there.

Anyways, Present Mic brings the convo back to the initial question/comment, noting that the fourth villain is worth zero points, and is more of an obstacle. He then brings up Super Mario Brothers, the old retro game, and compares the Zero Pointer to a thwomp. There’s one per site, serving as a gimmick that’ll rampage in close quarters. Tenya thanks Mic and apologizes for the interruption.

And so we get our final words from Present Mic:

??? either he's referencing the original guy (which I think would be a misquote because I doubt OG Nap ever noted anything like that) or some French hero or the like who took on the name.

Discord offered this to me while putting together the post:

So there you have it. Tentatively confirmed.

Those EYES man, dude’s got the Rinnegan going on.

Honestly, I have to end on this panel just because of that last line from Present Mic. Like, look me in the eyes and tell me this isn’t the exact point to end on.

The discord’s takeaway from this:

#chapter 3 #opening arcs #readthrough #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #yamada hizashi #iida tenya #I seriously cannot believe they actually said 'break a leg' while Midoriya Izuku was in the area #like talk about tempting fate #and that little bow #like 'yes sir i will do my best to break a leg'#'in fact i will break both legs AND an arm'#'Plus Ultra!'

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sumeshi-t · 4 years

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past or present— a haikyuu smau

[oikawa x y/n x atsumu]

a/n: i know i made an announcement about POP being postponed, but i've written these way back, and as i said, the following parts will be more on words because everything’s gonna be more oikawa-centric this time heehee and i think that this is going to be a better method to capture his reunion with y/n ;)

part 21 > part 22 > part 23 | nav.

you were kinda regretting having to attend the reunion.

as promised, matsukawa picked you and iwaizumi up from your house, and when you got in the car, hanamaki was already inside, the only one in the backseat. the ride to the venue was chill, matsukawa's music taste never failing to just bring out a certain vibe.

the four of you registered at the entrance soon as you arrived, immediately found a decent table that wasn't too far nor too up front, and saved oikawa a seat. some three others ended up sharing the table with your group of friends, one of them being hanamaki's classmate.

at first you were having a pretty good time, making small talk with your previous classmates, or the people from your club, even to those you once were acquainted with or became temporarily close with.

that is, until you went to the restroom to take a piss.

"you've seen y/n right?"

"yeah, nothing's changed with her. she's still a slut."

"maybe that's why oikawa-kun broke up with her."

the ladies chuckled, oblivious to the fact that the person they were gossiping about was just inside one of the cubicles, teeth gritted, fists clenched, taking deep breaths through her nostrils.

"i mean, that has to be it right? couldn't keep her legs closed for just one of them."

"what the fuck? you gotta be kidding,"

"i'm not! i saw her, and the other three–iwaizumi, hanamaki, matsukawa–get off from the same car. if that doesn't seem fishy, i don't know what is."

then, they were gone. the moment you were met with silence, you banged the door open, angrily washing your hands. obviously they were oikawa's avid fans, judging by their ability to snoop around his private life, and even make disgusting assumptions about the relationship you have with each of your volleyball friends.

you thought it would stop there.

you thought you could handle it; you survived that kind of shit through high school when you two were still together. but somehow, you keep seeing people staring at you as if you grew another head. while you were left alone on your table, as the other three caught up with their own class, you heard the same kind of comments again.

somehow it annoyed you more that the only label you have hanging over your head was that you were oikawa's ex and nothing more. 'as if i'm the only ex he's ever had,' you thought, finding it a bit unfair that you could hear your name being the only one that's associated with oikawa.

finally, the program was about to start and everyone had to settle down. you were relieved, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. iwaizumi noticed this, and raised a brow at you as his way of asking, "what's wrong?"

you ended up just smiling at him, lightly shaking your head. although iwaizumi felt a bit worried from that response, if you didn't want to talk about it, he's going to let you do as you please.

'i'm supposed to have fun... i shouldn't let them get to me. so what if i'm oikawa's ex? if you look at it in a different way, you can say that he's my ex too.' the thought calmed you down, as you listened to the alumni choir performing.

everything went according to the program: the principal, followed by various members of the faculty, all made their speeches. apparently, a portion of the fees everybody paid for would go to the charity that aoba johsai supports.

games were played, as hilarious photos from the past were flashed on screen. in between, members of certain clubs would go up and perform. somehow, you got dragged into that as well, able to relive your high school self with ease. your friends wholeheartedly supported you, and you find yourself smiling at them.

however, from the corner of your eye, you were certain there was this lady in a dark red dress, rolling her eyes at you and proceeded to whisper to those beside her. as you got off the platform, your eyes locked with her, a stern look on your face.

as you returned to your seat, iwaizumi and the two other guys pat your back.

"y/n, you were awesome!" hanamaki gave you a thumbs up, while matsukawa nods, the shades he wore sliding down his nose bridge. iwaizumi hands you a drink, a small smile on his face. then, he murmurs, "that trashykawa's still not here. is he even attending?"

you shrug your shoulders, assuming he was only talking to you. "not sure, haven't received anything from him." then you sigh, leaning on your seat. the three guys sent oikawa a message, reminding him that he's terribly late.

meanwhile, the host went from table to table, asking random questions such as the person's favorite teacher, or their funniest memory. until, the lady in red was handed the microphone, to answer the question, "what's your favorite memory with your high school crush?"

"my seatmate was my crush so... everyday was a favorite memory!"

the host tried to pry her for an answer about who the crush is, and she only says, "i think... he's not here... yet," then she looks at you again, you know she was sending you a look, and you hated how that woman had the guts to be so petty.

'a child in an adult's body...' you mocked her in your mind, before taking a sip from your glass. now that you look at her, you recognized that face, though you couldn't recall what her name was.

"it's oikawa..." you blurt out as a way to answer the “mystery” that the woman was putting up, that everyone on that table turned to look at you with a questioning look.

"the trash isn't replying to us, but replies to you?" hanamaki was first to speak, and your eyes remain on that red lady. "nah, i'm talking about that girl." you nodded in her direction, before continuing, "she's been a fan of oikawa maybe since birth, i don't know. she hates me very much, been sending me nasty glares all afternoon. i think she's also the one spreading shit about us,"

"us...? you mean...?"

you shrug, "overheard it back in the restroom. they think i'm in some sort of nasty relationship with you virgin dumbasses, and thinks it's why oikawa broke up with me."

hanamaki groans, a string of complaints out his mouth; matsukawa shakes his head and slumps back in his seat; and iwaizumi's frown deepens, his fists clenching until knuckles went white. the three others in your table shared looks, choosing to remain quiet instead. you caught their reactions in time before letting a small smile spread across your lips.

"just kidding! damn it, why's it so boring..." then, turning to iwaizumi, you excuse yourself, fed up of the shit you had to endure so far. you head outside the hall, somewhere around the lobby and sat on one of the vacant chairs. from there you had a good view of the clear night sky, the silence and beauty it held calming your nerves.

you felt your phone vibrate in your purse, and you took it out, expecting it was oikawa–for which, you chastise yourself. why you even thought of that one person that's making this evening unbearable, was beyond you.

you were quite relieved to see atsumu's name, 'what perfect timing,' you thought. the little chat with the blonde setter somehow brought your mood up, a smile resting idly on your lips.

then, you hear footsteps coming your way, which got you into thinking it was just either hanamaki or iwaizumi that came to look for you, that you inevitably had to look up.

however, your eyes were met with warm, brown ones you were all too familiar with. everything around you just seemed to stop, and you were glued to your seat as you stare up at this boy–no, this man before you.

you quickly notice the changes–you had to tilt your head even higher now; he surely has been working out, training, perhaps often under the sun; an air of true confidence surrounded him, an “i-know-i’m-good, you-know-it-too” vibe; and there was something with the glint in his eyes that made you think, 'he's been through a lot; he's matured; he's changed.'

and then, he smiles.

not the smile he gives when girls flock over to him; not his mr. heartbreaker-smile–it wasn't even forced nor did it feel out of place.

it scared you, how much you knew that smile of his. you knew, you both knew, that that was the smile he's always and only reserved for you–

during every date, during that time you got the highest grade in an exam you worked so hard for, after every game, after moments you just showed your love for each other–it was that smile.

and it never failed to make you feel special.

and that never changed. even until now, in that moment, where everything suddenly fit into place.

it was as if he was just gone for a day, and suddenly he's back... he's home.

in that short moment, you felt a bubbly feeling in your stomach and a comforting warmth spreading throughout your chest, rising to your neck, which tinted your ears and probably your cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

oh no, you were kinda regretting having to attend the reunion.

...were you really?

oikawa tooru's lips parted once, twice, in an attempt to speak, but was cut off when his name was suddenly called.

"oi, oikawa! glad you could make it," iwaizumi greets him, immediately hitting his best friend with a not-so-playful punch to the shoulder as soon as he closed the distance between them.

you stood up, looking at iwaizumi, and at iwaizumi only, "i'll go get the other two," you murmur before rushing your way back into the banquet hall. you quickly pulled out your phone, checking your face to see if you were too red because you felt too hot.

everything that happened next came out as a blur:

you told matsukawa and hanamaki of oikawa's arrival, some fan overheard it, and went after you three after dragging with her a few others; you managed to convince them, specifically iwaizumi, that you'll take a photo of them together;

oikawa then, being welcomed by even more squeals, as you stood off to the side, never anywhere too near him, in silence; which progressed into him, giving out a speech;

then, there was dinner, with idle, today's-weather conversations between you and him; that red lady approaching him, which he brushed off as quick as he could.

the other three tried to play it out as comfortable as possible, but you felt that they were on guard. but for what? you weren't about to break down anyway. no big deal, just reuniting with an ex you haven't seen in two years, an ex you actually saw a future with, who seems to be doing fine, who seemed to have been okay through the years that you were gone. no big deal.

but those walls you've built, those walls you prided yourself in that you knew even date tech would fold and praise you for; all it took to break through them was his smile. all the thoughts, all the memories you've pushed to the back of your mind resurfaced and it all pointed to one fact alone:

you missed oikawa tooru. you thought you were ready to face him without feeling anything. and you thought wrong. and somehow, being this close to him again, fingers barely brushing against each other on the table, stealing glances–it all just felt right.

that's why, as you now sit in the KTV room: hanamaki scream-singing, iwaizumi grumbling, matsukawa with a lazy grin on his face as he refilled your glass, oikawa leaning casually on his seat across you; you found yourself, a glass of alcohol after the other, more than singing any of your favorite songs.

you were so preoccupied with your current situation, that you left your phone unattended, buried in your purse, vibrating every once in a while, notification after notification from a certain someone checking on you. and soon, alcohol has gotten its way into your system, and you thought you could handle it.

you thought you could handle a drinking match with hanamaki.

you thought you could handle a conversation with oikawa without feeling something heavy in your chest, or averting your eyes too quickly, or discreetly pinching the side of your thigh.

you thought you could handle the way his eyes never left you, just occasionally glancing at the others or at the screen, even as he sang your favorite song that he used to hate.

you didn't feel like crying, even as you felt a lump in your throat. 'must be the alcohol,' you mused, over and over, until you crouch down, arms folded on the table to cradle your head, and possibly, your heavy heart.

"y/n? oi, y/n," you hear one of them–iwaizumi–but you were too tired, too done for the night to respond or even lift your head up. soon, all the noise died down, and everything was pitch black.

you couldn't be more happy to welcome the darkness your lids had to offer.

taglist: @yams046 @tamcitrus @nerdyphantomlady @haikyuuincorrect @aurorahoneybuns @zoppzoop @takingyouruwus @jesquisser @blushinggray @keigosbitch @emailandpassword @mephistominion @90s-belladonna @thannael @maravillamin @hideewrites @kiwigore @2sj2 @firsthandembarrassment @astrrnmy @deathcab4daddy @littleblackpheonix @huhkaashi @chibi-chibiii

cheese cult: @akaashit-baeji @taeiliee @bubbleteaa @boomboomjaz @ouikarwa @agaashi

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daybreak-academy-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Daybreak Academy: Chapter 51

Memories

Summary: In which a happy conversation between the headmasters becomes serious. Word Count: 1,566 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

For the first time in awhile, the five of them were able to sit down and just laugh. The best part was that there were no kids around- which meant absolutely no censoring or holding back information. Unless you counted the turtle; then there technically was a child there, just one that couldn't talk back.

There was absolutely no contest that Ira looked incredibly good for someone that just turned 39. His smile brought out the smallest of crow's feet, but they worked so well on him that it only added to his charm. At least, that was what he hoped, anyway. Having all five of them together was like reliving every memory they had before they truly became adults. No responsibilities, no kids to deal with, no tensions brought about by work, and absolutely no reservations on what they were going to do after tonight.

And honestly? Ira had missed those days.

“We need to eat out together for our birthdays more often.” he smiled at them after some point. “I don't think we've had this much fun in years.”

“Agreed.” the other four simultaneously said. They all looked at each other before going into another round of laughter.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Gula laughed, “So who else remembers that year when we decided to go surfing, and Aced had this massive wipeout?”

“Oh, I do!” Invi snickered. “He refused to come out of the ocean with Ava and I there because his swim trunks fell off.”

“Why do you guys keep bringing that up?” Aced grumbled. “That was the worst day of my life!”

“Because it was hilarious!” Gula chuckled.

“It kinda was.” Ava agreed with a small giggle of her own. “I don't think I've ever seen you look so red, Aced!”

“Oh, I have.” Invi grinned before taking a deliberate sip of wine. Everyone but Aced went into another round of laughter.

“What about that year Ava found a hermit crab and tried her best to bring it home with us?” Ira suggested, casually resting his elbows on the table and placing his chin in his knitted hands.

“MoM almost let me too!” Ava smiled. “Of course, now I have a much cuter shell baby this year. Isn't that right, Shelby?”

The turtle, who was not allowed on the table and instead remained by Ava's feet, looked up at her and happily bobbed its head in agreement. Ava gave the tiny thing a little smile, bending down to pat his head, then took a strawberry from her plate to give to him. Shelby let out an excited clicking noise as Ava set the strawberry down beside him. Ava gave him another little laugh before returning her attention to her fellow headmasters.

“You know,” Gula remarked, “It's a small wonder none of us are married yet. Sure, it makes sense for Ava and I, since we're still spring chickens. But you three? You're practically over the hill. And besides Ephemer (who isn't really your son Ava, he's only ten years younger than you), we don't have any kids either. Isn't that something? What are the odds of that?”

“I don't think they're as high as you think they are, Gula.” Ira surmised with a neat raise of his eyebrow.

Aced almost agreed with Ira before something crossed his mind. For a brief moment, he remembered the conversation he had with April on their date a month ago. April had mentioned that many of the staff assumed that Invi had taken her sabbatical to cover up the fact she was pregnant. Curious, he gave Invi a glance to see her reaction.

Invi looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there. Her face had suddenly gone pale as she tightly held her wine glass with both her hands. When she noticed that Aced was looking at her, she shot him a dark look before it quickly turned into one of worry instead. It was that very look that made Aced realize something. But this wasn't the place to be questioning it.

“Invi?” Ava wondered as she looked at her fellow headmaster. “Are you alright? You look like you're about to be sick...”

Breaking her gaze with Aced, Invi shook her head. “Too much wine.” she mumbled. “But never mind me.” She looked up and gave Aced a wicked smile. “I almost bet Aced could bring us another child in the next year, if he and Ms. Tremaine get any cozier.”

“What?!” the oldest of the five shrieked. “What makes you think…?!”

“So is that what I hear late at night?” Gula smirked. “I wondered which one of us was getting at it again.”

Ira also gave a snide smirk. “It's a very distinct sound, isn't it?” he also teased. “Not quite grunting, but it sure isn't a moan either. I don't think I've ever heard anything quite like it.”

Aced's face was now a deep shade of red. He wanted to hide, while at the same time he wanted to strangle them all. “Now wait a minute…!”

“You're a bear in every sense of the word, Aced.” Invi told him, her grin wickedly catlike. “Big, strong, growling, gay...”

“That's enough!” Aced thundered, slamming his fists into the table. Everyone jumped a little at the impact- even Shelby, who then choose to hiss at Aced's feet. The oldest of them glared them all down as he demanded, “Can we PLEASE change the subject? This is the EXACT reason why I chose to be celibate after we broke up!”

A tense silence filled between the five of them now. No one wanted to look at Aced and his perfectly fuming face. Above all, he glared at Invi. He could see it now- he could see that she had secrets that she wasn't willing to tell. He could see how suddenly aware she was that, perhaps, he did know her secret and could have blurted it out to the rest of them. What was stopping him? In fact, it would even open up some very interesting discussions that they could all take a part of.

“I'm sorry.” Invi said first. “I didn't mean to overstep.”

“I bet you didn't.” Aced grumbled. But he relaxed his body, plopping back down in his seat with a huff. “I bet you didn't mean anything at all, Invi.”

As he mentally tried to ground himself after his outburst, Aced still continued to cast Invi a dark, accusatory glare that she only shrank under. The other three didn't know what to do or say. For the longest time, the only sound in the room came from Shelby, who resumed to happily munch away on his strawberry.

Hoping to change the mood a bit, Ava carefully spoke up to say, “I think you and April are a nice couple. She seems genuinely happy to be with you- even her daughter Annie seems to like you.” A small smile appeared on Ava's face before she said, “She's such a sweetie too. She and Ephemer would absolutely adore each other.”

“Anastasia is quite intelligent.” Invi agreed. “I do find it odd that the two aren't already acquainted- but they are a few years apart, and in different houses.”

“Ephemer knows everyone on campus- even the staff.” Gula informed them in a matter-of-fact voice. “He just chooses who he wants to see on a daily basis. Like Anora, Skuld, and Ventus; he met them out of coincidence, and now he considers them his best of friends. You know why? It's because he purposely sought them out after. Some more than others, of course...”

“I assume you're referring to Anora?” Ira questioned. “She was an odd case, but adapted quickly enough. Still seems odd that she got an acceptance letter during winter break. Did we ever find out who sent that letter out? It wasn't any of us, was it?”

“From my understanding,” Aced grumbled, “It was the superintendent. I would know- I'd recognize his signature on the paperwork in a heartbeat.”

“But why?” Ava wondered. “Sure, she's one of our more exceptional students, but he couldn't have known that beforehand. Could he? No one in Anora's family is Daybreak alumni. I don't even think they're native to Departure County at all.”

They all went silent at this, none of them truly having an answer. Eventually, Invi looked up at them with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Ephemer wasn't the only one who tried to find information on Anora when she arrived.” she told them in a still voice. “It was how I caught him going through the student records. But that was just the thing; her records? Completely useless. At least, on terms about why she was enrolled. Her emergency contacts all rang over to dead numbers. The only family she has is a desk jockey aunt, a reserved cousin, and an uncle stationed out at sea. And her parents...”

Invi hesitated for a moment. The other headmasters leaned a bit closer to her so she could finish, but she didn't continue. Instead, she seemed to have spaced out a little, looking at something far off that didn't quite look right.

“What about her parents, Invi?” Gula questioned, sounding a bit more forceful than he intended. Invi blinked as she brought her attention back to the other four. In an ambiguous voice, she said to them;

“I hope you like mysteries, because this one is fascinating.”

#daybreak academy #chapter 51 #kingdom hearts fanfiction #Ira #Gula #Invi #Aced #Ava #Shelby #Season 1

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 4 years

Text

Witches, Chapter 24: welcome to Themis.

Watch me go this whole arc without mentioning the “dark age of the law” but still trying to impress upon us the corruption inherent in the school and the legal system anyway.

[Seelie of Kurain Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

[Witches Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

-----

“Phoenix Wright speaking.”

“Hello, Mr Wright? This is Constance Courte, one of the professors—”

“—at Themis? I remember hearing your name. What’s up? Is something going on with the school festival?”

“No, everything remains as scheduled - including your lecture that you’ll be giving tomorrow. I was calling to ask if, perhaps, you would be able to arrive a bit earlier tomorrow - say, around one o’clock? I’d like to discuss in advance what you’re planning for your lecture and seminar. I imagine that Professor Means likely told you that the stage is yours and you are free to say what you like, but he and I disagree on - well. We have rather different teaching styles, shall we say.”

“Yeah, he pretty much said it was up to me, but I’d be happy to have a chat with you about what you’d like the fledgling defense attorneys to learn to make it easier on your future judges. The mock trial starts at two, right? I can definitely be there early - oh, I invited my two junior partners along, too. Hope that won’t be a problem.”

“Not at all. I look forward to meeting them too. And there is something else I would like to ask of you, though. It’s in regards to Prosecutor Gavin.”

“I’d heard he’s the prosecutor who was invited to speak, same as me.”

“Yes. At my suggestion - he was one of my students. I teach several classes open to students of any course. I believe it’s better to have a fully rounded view of the courtroom and understand all those positions, and I hope you might agree. Klavier was one of my favorite students, though I’m not sure I should admit that I do have favorites.”

“I’m not sure I’m following what you mean to ask. If you’re worried I take some sort of issue with him, on basis of what happened eight years ago, I’ll be the first to assure you that I don’t blame him for what happened.”

“I’m certainly glad to hear it. Now, I said that I suggested that Klavier be invited, and he agreed to come to Themis again, yes, when the academy’s administration sent him a formal email asking him if he would come speak. As for myself, I have reached out to him a number of times over the past year, most recently floating this idea, and every time, I am met with silence. Considering everything that has happened, I’ll admit that I am concerned about him.”

“...Honestly, so am I, but I am, without a doubt, the worst person to ask. I know for a fact that he will be doing his damndest to avoid me.”

“We may be in that boat together, and I fear that tomorrow he will continue to do so. This brings me to you, Mr Wright, and what I would ask of you. I have heard quite a bit about you, I’ll admit, some rumors much less court-related and much odder than others. One of the things they say is that you are quite good at seeing things that other people can’t.”

“...!”

“However that may be, I would be deeply grateful if you would, if necessary, help me corner Klavier tomorrow, because I suspect you may have also noticed that he is very, very good at avoiding people if he does not want to be found.”

“Well, this just feels like my first day of university all over again.” Phoenix shields his eyes against the sun and stares up at the building that looms in front of them. It’s a huge campus for a high school, but it’s also a fancy lawyer high school with alumni that probably donate boatloads of money from their lucrative careers, so it’s not all that surprising. “Lost as hell.”

“There’s probably at least three lecture halls in every one of these buildings,” Apollo gripes, staring out across the quad at the other nearby academic buildings. “Which one is the lecture hall where we’re supposed to meet the professor?”

“She said the main lecture hall,” Phoenix says. “I am making the assumption that this building in the center of campus is the main building, and thus, houses the main lecture hall.” But who the hell can actually know, really? Athena’s probably lost as hell too, since they’d waited as long as they could by the main gates to campus waiting for her, and still she didn’t turn up.

With still an hour until the mock trial, students aren’t swarming all over the campus yet, though maybe it would be better if they were. The mock trial is also taking place in the main lecture hall, but because it’s only students and faculty attending the mock trial, there are no signs pointing the way, because everyone who is regularly at the school would know where the damn main lecture hall is. And there’s no crowd to follow, yet, and so, their current predicament.

Behind them, someone clears their throat. “By chance, you would not happen to be Mr Wright?”

It’s the hair, isn’t it? Or the blue suit. Hilariously, “hair and bright primary color suit” is also how Phoenix would describe both Apollo and Athena to anyone looking for them. The office accidentally has a theme. “That would be me, yes,” Phoenix says, turning around to come not quite face-to-face with a very tall man, with a carefully arranged gray beard and hair, and, over his vest and dress shirt, a white robe that in any other situation would scream frat party bedsheet toga. Trucy went to the Themis website last night to show him pictures of the professors so that he knew who he was looking for. “And you are Aristotle Means?”

“I am indeed.” He offers a hand and Phoenix shakes it. “It’s wonderful to finally get the chance to meet and speak with you in person.” He was the one who sent the invitation email to Phoenix. And a formal invitation letter and a pamphlet about the school and one about the mock trial and Phoenix meant to read those and has no idea what they disappeared to.

“Thanks for the invite,” Phoenix says. “And - oh, this is Apollo Justice.” The introductions are swiftly made - “The other lawyer at our agency should be coming, too, though I’m not sure where she’s gotten off to” - their situation and desperate need of directions explained, and Professor Means offers to escort them up to the main lecture hall, which is on the third floor of this building, meaning that Phoenix and Apollo almost had it. “Thank you. I appreciate it - and for the invitation to come here to speak. I wasn’t expecting that - I’m sure there are other defense attorneys around, and alumni at that, who are…” Phoenix searches for any words at all that won’t drag himself too fiercely through the mud. Apollo is suddenly seemingly very interested on all the posters on the walls advertising school announcements and campus clubs.

“Nonsense!” Means says brightly. “Truly, I could think of no defense attorney I would rather have to our illustrious school, and I am glad that situation has been sorted out that you may return to the courtroom. I have had my students study your cases for years, you know.”

“R-really?” Kind of flattering, kind of alarming that he had his students study up on the tactics of a disbarred lawyer. Unless they were “what not to do” kinds of lessons, in which case that’s not flattering, and also why would he invite Phoenix here, then.

“Indeed. Your defense of Will Powers is one that I find particularly exemplary. That even while you were backed into a corner, you still managed to shift the blame well enough to buy yourself and your client further time, and another day to investigate. I have my students practice how to make effective accusations of a case’s initial witnesses, and to sound convincing even if they themselves do not believe their gambit.” Phoenix’s stomach flips over itself. Apollo really isn’t looking at him now. Means, oblivious to the tension between the two, that Phoenix hoped was going away but now is back in pained full, continues, “It is unfortunate, in truth, but is our client’s acquittal not our utmost priority? Is it not ultimately justified, what we do in pursuit of that?”

“That’s a bit of a slippery slope, don’t you think, Professor?” Apollo asks. He finally looks Phoenix in the eye, but he’s glaring at him instead, and that just makes Phoenix feel even worse. He’s supposed to give a lecture to these students; what’s he supposed to say when all they know him for is his most desperate and shadiest moments? Hell, what’s he supposed to say to Apollo once Means leaves?

“Unfortunately, if it is, then it is the prosecution who have given us our push down it.” Apollo’s frown deepens. “Consider how many of them value only victory and have their own underhanded tricks that, if we did not act, would convict our clients not on strength of evidence but simply on the prosecution’s say-so, that they demand this of the judge. We are letting our clients down if we do anything but fight their fire with our own.”

Phoenix expected him to protest further, but Apollo is strangely quiet. Maybe he’s thinking about Blackquill threatening Mayor Tenma to try and get a guilty plea, or maybe even that time that Klavier didn’t tell even his detective that the defendant could see and the witness was blind. He doesn’t mount a defense of the supposed minority of prosecutors who aren’t underhanded on behalf of his friend, at any rate. Means changes the subject and Phoenix carries on a conversation with him without his brain in it, and when they come up on the lecture hall, Phoenix has no idea what the hell they were talking about. He just wonders what Courte thought about inviting him here, considering it was her favorite student who got him disbarred. She hadn’t given any hint of animosity during their weird conversation last night.

“If I see Professor Courte around, I will let her know that you’re here,” Means says as he leaves. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t show up for a while. She labors under the unfortunate curse of being habitually late.”

The size of the lecture hall reminds him of his own university days, but not the quality of the room itself, which is unfathomably better. Hell, it’s at least as nice as the courthouse, stark white marble-looking walls and shiny white desk surfaces, with a screen at every station. Students wouldn’t even have to remember to bring their laptops for lectures. The cynic in him wonders just how much this all cost, and whether they could have gotten even more nice screens and supplies if they hadn’t tried to make this hall look like a temple or museum. Wealthy alumni, he thinks again.

“So when he said ‘curse’ there,” Apollo ventures slowly, the first thing he’s said since he asked Means that question, and Phoenix is just glad that this all hasn’t put them off speaking terms yet. “Do you think that was just a turn of phrase or - I mean, that just sounds really petty, for a curse.” He sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself of such, rather than actually believing it.

“Petty’s what they are,” Phoenix says. “Besides, I know a guy who has a fae blessing that he can memorize any words that are written down on a page, so long as he eats the paper it was written down on. A curse that’s just chronic lateness? Might not be that far off.”

“Eats the paper?” Apollo repeats.

Phoenix sinks into one of the seats in the back row. Apollo has no idea how lucky he is that the fae in his past saw it fitting just to give him plain, unvarnished Truth. (Magnifi gave the same to Thalassa and Trucy, presumably because in the human world he thought he would need them, but what was the motivation for Apollo’s fae? Just a gift?) “Eats the paper.”

Time crawls by, with Phoenix checking the clock every few minutes, neither Courte nor Athena showing up. “I did tell Athena we’re meeting at one, right?” he asks, and Apollo, staring bored down at his phone (“Your daughter is texting in class” he said a few minutes ago) nods. “Right, because I told both of you at the same time, and you’re here.” The back of the chair is low enough that he tilts his head the whole way back to stare up at the ceiling when he tries to lean back.

1:30 comes and goes. Apollo encourages Trucy’s bad habits of texting in class. Phoenix sinks down into the chair and props his knees up against the edge of the tables. The hall slowly starts to fill up with students and their colorful uniforms, based on what profession they aspire toward; and then with an overhead announcement telling all students and faculty to please make their way to the lecture hall, the room begins to flood. Apollo springs up out of his chair and waves to someone. “Hey, Athena!” he shouts, ignoring all of the eyes that turn toward him for his loud yell and the fact that he’s someone not dressed like a student. Athena’s probably run into a dozen people who mistake her for a classmate and asked why she isn’t wearing her uniform.

“Apollo! Mr Wright! I am—” She doubles over, hands on her knees, to catch her breath. “So so sorry that I’m late!”

“You’re lucky that the person we’re supposed to be meeting is running even later,” Apollo says. “So you’re not the last one here.”

When Means returns, he informs them that he still has not yet seen Professor Courte this morning, and then Athena immediately launches in to badgering him for information about the school. He seems to appreciate her enthusiasm, and she for her part seems enthralled by the whole concept of Themis. And why wouldn’t she be? She doesn’t know enough to know the rot that crept under the foundation and, for all Phoenix knows, still lingers there.

“Excuse me, Professor Means?” A small but firm voice interrupts the conversation, and Phoenix’s wandering mind. What subject had the conversation gotten to, anyway? “Forgive my interruption, but with the mock trial starting soon, and you giving the opening speech, it would be best if you went up to the balcony now to wait for when we start.”

“Ah, of course, Ms Woods,” Means says. “As organized as ever, aren’t we? I shall leave you to keep this trial running smoothly, but do introduce yourself to our guests, wouldn’t you?”

The young woman wears the black dress that marks the students of the judges’ course, and she has pinned a sunflower up in her ashy brown hair. “Of course,” she says to means, and then she turns to Phoenix. “My name is Juniper Woods. I’m a third year in the judge course and the Student Council President. Professor Means must have given you the introduction to our prestigious academy, but if there’s anything you wish to know—”

“J-Junie?” Athena gasps. “Junie, is that you?”

“Huh?” The young woman blinks in confusion, and then her dark eyes go wide and she too gasps, a hand flying up to slap over her open mouth. “Th - Athena? I barely recognized you! I didn’t know you were back from Europe.”

“I know, I know, that’s my fault, I’ve been so bad about staying in touch with people since I got back and started working and everything - I kept meaning to write!” Athena’s grin gets progressively more nervous and her babbling picks up speed. Widget can’t decide whether to settle on green, yellow, or blue. She clasps her hands together tightly. “I didn’t realize you’d for-sure decided to study law! And such a prestigious school, too!” She casts an admiring glance around the hall.

“So,” Phoenix asks when Juniper doesn’t respond and instead continues to stare ahead, not at Athena but somewhere between Apollo and Phoenix, in blank shock, “old friends?”

Athena nods, her hair swinging about wildly with her enthusiasm. “We knew each other when we were kids! We were best friends, right, Junie?”

Juniper has nowhere near Athena’s energy, or apparent glee. Maybe it’s still her surprise, or maybe it’s some sort of embarrassment, or maybe it’s - whatever, but all the same, a pang of sympathy shoots through Phoenix’s heart. A long-lost childhood best friend who’s much more reluctant to pick up the relationship again. Poor Athena. Juniper isn’t even looking at her, and has turned her eyes toward the floor now. “Yes. We lived close by each other, and used to play in the forest together.”

Maybe she just likes plants, and nature, with the sunflower in her hair, running around in the forest as a child. Not everyone grew up right in the city. It’s possible for that to be an innocuous statement. Some people actually just have yards and trees in them, Phoenix, he tells himself, failing to convince himself. Because on the other hand, she’s an old friend of Athena’s, and she’s studying law and there’s that old joke about that, and Phoenix can say it all he wants, my kingdom for one normal kid, for one other person besides Ema in our ever-expanding social circles to be relatively normal, relatively unaffected by fae bullshit—

And Juniper’s not looking at anyone, and Athena and Apollo are looking at Juniper, so Phoenix can cast a quick glance over her.

He closes his eyes to reset himself to regular vision, and to ask himself if there’s such a thing as fate or destiny that drives them all together like this, or whether Edgeworth is wrong every time that he says most people in the greater Los Angeles area are maybe a little more superstitious than most but otherwise unremarkable and unmagicial. Because he claims that, and then Phoenix meets someone else, just by chance, and no, no, they’re at least somewhat fae-adjacant too. To hell with it all.

Also, her name is Juniper Woods, which, come on. That’s a very fae-trying-to-figure-out-how-to-name-someone-like-humans-name-humans name.

“I’m afraid that we only have the one seat reserved for Mr Wright in the mock trial, and otherwise, you should wait in the lobby down on the first floor,” Juniper is saying. She seems much more comfortable and self-assured when they’ve switched back to talking about the organizational details of the day. “It is a part of our curriculum, after all, and we need the space for all of our students.”

“Oh,” Apollo says. “Darn. I wanted to see what the mock trial was all about.”

“I’ll trade you,” Phoenix says. “You can take my seat, and I’ll go wait for Professor Courte still, with Athena.”

“But I want to watch the mock trial too!” Athena protests.

“Sorry kiddo, but Apollo got first dibs, and he’s got seniority on you, too.”

Athena groans. She doesn’t try to engage Juniper in conversation again, either, when she escorts the two of them downstairs. Juniper leaves them in the lobby there, as stark white and like a Greek temple as the rest of this building has been, but there are a few nice couches and some wide windows that let in enough natural light. Phoenix sinks down into a couch, even though it reminds him a bit of the courthouse lobby couches and he has an official long-standing rule against those. Athena would hopefully stop someone who tried to beat his head in with a fire extinguisher.

But he needs to take the time to figure out what he could possibly say in a lecture, that won’t make him sound morally bankrupt or like an idiot who only wins by lucky bluffs. And maybe he is, but he doesn’t need to encourage the legal system to fill up with more people like that, especially not if Means is already doing so. He closes his eyes. What are the most important things that Mia taught him? What has he noticed Apollo and Athena have trouble with - what parts of defending has he watched them learn on the fly, because it can only be learned in a courtroom? He could talk about body language; he’s not Apollo or Trucy or Thalassa, but he’s pretty good at that.

Or, hell, what are the biggest mistakes he’s made over his career? What could someone have said to prevent those? Don’t trust evidence given to you by strange girls in top hats, except if Apollo had heeded that then Phoenix wouldn’t be here. Always check what’s written on the back of your evidence. Someone who seems too weird to be human might still be human but you should always watch the way you phrase your statements anyway. He’s going to sound like a paranoid morally bankrupt bluffing idiot. And again, maybe he is, but that’s not something he wants to encourage. Is it paranoia if it’s justified fear? Is the terror that he’s instilled Apollo with something that will help or hurt him in the long run? Or the short run.

Something loudly shatters. Athena yelps. “What did you break?” Phoenix asks, opening his eyes, expecting to find Athena frantically attempting to hide the pieces of some broken Themis decor that costs more than anything in the Agency because appearances might be important but Phoenix hasn’t ever been secure enough in the amount of clients he has to spend a thousand dollars on an easily-breakable light stand, Mia.

“It wasn’t me!” Athena protests. She stands in the middle of the lobby, staring all around, and there’s nothing broken in Phoenix’s line of sight, so with a yawn he swings his feet down from the couch. “I think it came from outside.”

“Guess we should go take a look,” Phoenix says. “Everyone else on campus is supposed to be in that lecture hall right now.” Maybe it’s Professor Courte, wherever she got off to.

Outside, Athena swivels her head around like an owl, trying to judge where that sound earlier came from. “Maybe over there?” she suggests, pointing across a stretch of green to, further along the side of the main building, a stage set up with a line of spotlights and giant speakers along the scaffolding. As they approach, Phoenix sees that the stage is set up like a courtroom, with two benches on either side, a judge’s podium looming high in the back, and a witness stand in the center. Just like apparently everything else at Themis, they are all designed to look like they’re made from white marble, and trimmed with gold. The whole school balances precariously on the line between classy and pretentious. “Do you think they’re having some sort of concert here?” Athena asks.

With Prosecutor Gavin around, it wouldn’t surprise him. There’s something lying on the stage behind the witness stand, something green. “Athena, what’s that there?”

They hurry closer to the stage and up the stairs on the side, close enough that Phoenix can see the woman lying on the stage, in a green track suit, her hair fanned out across the ground, a dark bloodstain spreading out across her white shirt from the arrow jammed in her side. Athena screams. Phoenix has been here too many times before. “Athena,” he says, turning to her, watching her face pale and go slack, “call the police.”

She nods silently, fumbling the phone from her pocket and dropping it to the stage; her hands are shaking when she picks it back up, and she casts one last glance at Courte before she turns her back on the scene. Phoenix kneels, finding no pulse in Courte’s neck. Her skin is cold. Already dead - already gone. Athena’s voice shakes, but all considered, she does a good job at relaying the necessary information and sticking only to that. “I’ll run and go tell everyone in the lecture hall, too,” she says, tucking her phone back into her pocket.

“Wait.” Athena stops with one foot raised. “Don’t. They’ll find out as soon as the police get here. We might as well do some investigating now, before anyone else gets here.” Who knows what sway someone at this school might have with the police, whether that someone is the murderer or just wants the incident buried for the sake of the academy’s good name. If they know what the crime scene looks like now, they’ll know if it was tampered with later.

“Are we allowed to do that?” Athena asks. Her eyes turn back down to the body and then she looks away, pressing her lips tight together and swallowing hard.

“We’ll make sure to leave everything just like we found it,” Phoenix says, picking up the little notebook lying next to Courte’s body and paging through it. A planner, with a sword emblem on the front cover and every page. Under today’s date, she lists mock trial preparation in the morning, the meeting with Phoenix at 1:00, and the start of the mock trial an hour later. No hint as to who she may have interacted with in any of that span of time. Her limbs have begun to stiffen, so it definitely wasn’t recent. “But considering—”

Considering the rot inside this institution. Does Athena need to know that? Is it going to help her solve the case if she does?

“Considering?”

There’s no reason to dump all the rumors and past troubles of Themis on her now. It might not even be relevant, and Phoenix can keep his eyes out, with that in mind. Athena is still standing at a distance, her hands to her mouth, her eyes big and fearful. “C’mon,” he says. “Deep breaths, and take a look at this and tell me what you see.” She, unfortunately, has to get used to this if this is the career she wants to stick with; there’s nothing like dropping right into the deep end for acclimating to it, and Apollo saw a man die within his first month of working at the Agency, so Athena’s got a lot of catching up to do.

The murder is just like the mock trial. The body’s location, the lack of blood suggesting that it was moved, the murder weapon - just like the mock trial. Apollo’s head is buzzing, or maybe that’s Athena in his ear, seemingly more indignant about the school newspaper she found than the actual murder. “—and Junie would never lead guys on like that! ‘Battle for the she-devil’s black heart’! This is slander!”

“It sounds like tabloid trash,” Apollo says. Campus newspaper standards sound like they’ve really fallen since he was in school.

“Ugh, I know,” Athena says. “That’s what Mr Wright said.” Compared to the explosive reaction when the police arrived and put a halt to the mock trial, campus is eerily quiet now, as the police have begun to send away most of the student they believe could not have been involved. Apollo wonders how they could have alibis for the time the body was moved - there was some sort of check-in or attendance taken of students at the mock trial, given that it is part of their curriculum, after all.

Apollo stuck around while Phoenix and Athena were questioned, and now Phoenix has gone off elsewhere and set them loose. Athena wanted to go find Juniper. Apollo really hopes she’s not going to bother her more about this damn school newspaper. “But it was talking about the two competitors in the mock trial being rivals for her affection. You saw the mock trial, Apollo. What were they like? Were they any good at being lawyers? Were they better than me?”

“Now you’re starting to sound like you think they’re rivals,” Apollo says, pushing open the door of the stairwell to let them out on the third floor, back to the lecture hall; if Juniper is anywhere, it’s probably here. “Your rivals,” he amends, because Athena doesn’t look like she gets it. “For Juniper’s attention.”

“Well, isn’t everyone at least a little in love with their best friend?” Athena asks.

Apollo snorts. “My best friend is insufferable,” he says. Which doesn’t necessarily refute Athena’s point, given that someone else in Apollo’s life who is also insufferable is Prosecutor Gavin, and that - that’s a road Apollo’s not going to go down. Not that they’re actually friends. But the half of that. The insufferable part—

“So?” Athena prompts. “So what’s your point? So whenever I meet him don’t say things like that, because then he’d be more insufferable?”

“Sure,” Apollo says. Might as well go with that answer. He pushes open the lecture hall doors and looks out over the large hall. Almost empty now, he spots Juniper sitting in the bottom row, and two other students, one in the red uniform and one in blue - they might even be the same two guys from the mock trial - standing by one of the benches, talking among themselves.

“Because being insufferable doesn’t rule out—” Juniper glances up at the door opening, and then she stands, smoothing down her skirt, and Athena hurries down the stairs to meet her, abandoning the current thought. “Junie! Are you all right? I was worried that—”

“I’m all right,” Juniper says, a little stiffly, and Apollo can’t decide which of the two girls he feels worse for. Athena, whose eagerness to reunite with an old friend keeps being rebuffed, or Juniper, whose body language screams uncomfortable with her every action. “I have to be. I’m Student Council President, and representative of the school, after all. I need to keep myself together, and act properly, for the sake of the school and my classmates.”

Athena nods, more in a way like she’s acknowledging what Juniper is saying rather than agreeing with it. Her fingers flutter toward Widget. “Um, I hate to ask this of you, especially right now, but could you tell us anything about Professor Courte?”

Juniper sounds like she greatly admired the professor - her professor, considering that she’s one of the judge course students. She coughs a few times as she’s talking; Apollo figures she’s just got a cold from working too hard - this might be a high school, but Apollo remembers college, and this seems more like college - but Athena appears incredibly alarmed, and she keeps restlessly shifting her posture, unsure of what to do. Maybe Juniper wasn’t in great health when they were younger? Whether it’s either of them steering the conversation, or just the way it happens to go, Juniper moves on to telling them about the mock trial. She wrote the script that outlines the initial scenario and the evidence involved, and she and Courte were the only two involved in putting it together.

As she explains, her two fellow students finally finish whatever conversation they were having and approach to join her. Hugh is a smarmy and rude budding defense attorney who has high opinions of only himself and Juniper; Robin is a very excitable prosecutorial student whose voice cracks when he yells too loudly and he carries a lump of clay around in his pocket to fiddle with and smush back up whenever its shape becomes unsatisfactory. Athena cheerily introduces herself, and then as soon as the two boys are looking at Juniper, she turns, aghast, to Apollo, undiluted panic written across her features. Horrified by her best friend’s apparent taste in guys? (Apollo can sympathize. The best taste Clay has ever had is his low-key celebrity crush on Klavier, and Apollo’s not gonna get into that.)

They do seem to genuinely like Juniper, though, or at least they can’t stop talking her up - once they’re done arguing about which of the two of them was closer to winning the mock trial, vowing to beat the holy hell out of each other, and then assuring Athena that they won’t actually be beating the holy hell out of each other, because they’re all best friends and have certifiable proof of that. (Athena gets a strange expression on her face when they say that. Maybe she hears something in their voices, or maybe it’s just hitting her that her long-lost old friend has new friends in her life, people who have their own in-jokes and secrets shared with her. It would be like Nahyuta meeting Clay, and that thought makes Apollo feel very strange, too.)

But besides their appreciation for her mock trial script, and her acting as the defendant in said mock trial, she is - or was supposed to, before this happened - singing in a concert for the school festival. “It was supposed to be later today,” Juniper says, ducking her head. “I’m only singing because most everyone else was too embarrassed to try out…”

“But still!” Athena has joined what’s now a triangle of people gushing over Juniper. “The stage outside, right? My Junie singing in front of a crowd - that’s incredible! You’ll be amazing!”

“Ah - th-thanks.” The poor girl is definitely uncomfortable with all of the attention now. “I made my own costume for the performance,” she adds. “I was still working on it this morning.” She takes her phone from her pocket and Athena eagerly leans in to see. Apollo rests an elbow on her head to push her out of the way enough that he can see without crowding Juniper’s personal space. “I based it on the outfit of a singer I really love—”

“Lamiroir?” Apollo didn’t mean to interrupt so loudly, but he recognizes that ruffled white dress and the beautiful blue cloak; he would remember it even if the brooch on her costume hadn’t come into contention as a piece of evidence.

Juniper almost whacks her head on Athena’s when she raises it. “You know Lamiroir?” she asks, and Apollo almost laughs, because he knows she wouldn’t think to mean it like that, but he does know Lamiroir, as in, met her, multiple conversations with her, cross-examined her.

“She’s an amazing singer, isn’t she?” Apollo says, and Juniper nods in eager agreement. He can’t actually listen to much of her music all at once, though. Something about it makes him homesick for somewhere, and he’s not really sure where - it isn’t Khura’in, exactly - but it always leaves him melancholy at best. And while Lamiroir’s songs are beautiful, none of them are what he would call upbeat, and that doesn’t help either.

“She’s incredible,” Juniper says, her words turning into a sigh of admiration. “I was so excited to hear that she was coming here for a tour last year, even if she wasn’t the main act, and then I couldn’t make it—”

“You didn’t really miss much,” Apollo says. “Since she only sang one song, and then there was the murder.”

“Huh?” Athena asks. Hugh and Robin don’t exactly appear to be in-the-know either.

“Were you at the concert?” Juniper asks. “Wait,” she adds, before he can answer, and she finally seems to have a little more energy than she did before, and to be relaxing her formality, even just a little. “Your name - you’re Apollo Justice. Didn’t you defend Machi Tobaye?”

“Er - yeah.” What’s this weird feeling - being acknowledged? Being recognized? Weird. “That was me.”

“Now you’re really gonna have to catch me up on what that case was about.” Athena interrupts with some force, sounding more than anything like a petulant child. Though she also has to be feeling bitterly left out, finding Apollo suddenly pulled into this group of people who have some connection to her old friend that she doesn’t. “Whenever we have time to talk about old cases. Whenever this case is dealt with.”

Maybe that was a bad thing to say. Maybe that cursed them, cursed the investigation to be suddenly kickstarted in the worst way. Maybe that’s a ridiculous thought, and it’s just unfortunate, unlucky timing, that at that moment, Detective Fulbright enters, trailed by a few officers. “Hello, my lawyer friends! Long time, no see, though I’m afraid we’ve no time now to catch up - Juniper Woods, you’re under arrest for the murder of Constance Courte!”

Athena shrieks louder than Robin, and both of them are louder than Juniper, who blanches and then goes a little sickly green, her hands over her mouth as another bout of frantic coughing escapes her lips. It’s not Juniper who Fulbright has to argue the reason for arrest with - it’s Athena, Athena demanding the evidence, the motive, why why why, and when Fulbright tells her everything he can he adds that Prosecutor Blackquill won’t let him say any more, Apollo’s stomach drops through the floor. “Blackquill?” Athena repeats indignantly. “Prosecutor Blackquill is the one—”

“Indeed!” Does Fulbright have any idea how terrifying the man actually is? Or is his casual attitude only feigned. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do, and we must be going. Come along now, miss.” Two officers flank Juniper, escorting her up the stairs to the doors, one of them holding the mock trial evidence that she still had in her pocket.

“Hold it!” Athena cries. “Hold it, hold it!” Fulbright stops, and so do the other officers, but Juniper doesn’t look back at Athena. “It’s not her! I won’t believe that! Junie! I’m going to defend you! I promise I’ll get you freed!”

At that, Juniper turns her head. She still looks green and pale, and tears flow freely down her cheeks, but a smile crosses her face, the first one that Apollo has seen her give. “Th-thank you, Thena.”

“Have you ever actually defended a case before?” Fulbright pushes his sunglasses back up his nose, from where they had slid down as he gave Athena a disbelieving look. “As more than the assistant, I mean. You’re pretty new to this, aren’t you?”

“I’ll help,” Apollo interrupts. Can’t let Athena start to second-guess herself now, especially not with her friend the defendant, and likely in desperate need of reassurance, at that. “I’ll be right here with you, Athena, for the whole case.”

“You don’t need to worry about a thing, Junie!” Athena calls after her, and between coughs, in her tiny voice, she thanks them again, and then she, and the other officers and Fulbright, are gone, and the door closes on the silent hall.

The first person to make a sound is Hugh, with a derisive snort. “Please. Like rank amateurs are going to be able to handle this case. I’ll get this solved and have it under control for Juniper’s sake.” He turns, hands still in his pockets, and stalks toward the doors behind one of the mock trial benches.

“You don’t even have a badge!” Athena shouts after him. “And I do, you smug little—”

Whatever her particular choice of insult would be, she is drowned out by Robin, also yelling after Hugh, and then running after him. “Totally rude, man! And I’m in this too, don’t you forget it! I’m gonna save Juniper!”

Athena places her hands over her ears and leaves them there a moment, until both of them are also gone, and silence returned to the hall. Just the two of them now, in over their heads with another case and client. “The mock trial,” Athena says finally. “You said that it was all kind of like the real murder?”

“It was almost exactly like what we know of the real murder,” Apollo says. “The body probably having been moved to the crime scene, the arrow as the weapon, the - the stage wasn’t set up yet in their mock crime scene photo, but—” Is he missing a detail? He’s still pretty sure he’s missing something. Rope, was there a rope? No, he’s just assuming because of the bruising on the victim’s wrists in the real crime scene. “I’m going to start scrambling the two in a minute. I wish you’d seen the mock trial, too, or we had a script, so then we’d be sure we’ve got all the details right.” Fulbright mentioned the script, so it’s probably part of police evidence now, and way out of their hands. And by the time they’ll be able to talk to Juniper again, she’ll have gone through questioning by Prosecutor Blackquill and who knows what state that traumatic event will leave her memories in. “It’s not like I took notes on the mock trial or anything.”

Who could have thought it would be this direly important?

Now that everyone else is gone, Athena’s bold, decisive confidence is falling apart, and her shoulders slump, almost like she’s deflating. “We’ll write down what we know for sure and then come back to this later,” Apollo says. This is Athena’s case, and she’s going to need to take charge, but he’ll give her a few moments longer to come to grips with their situation. “Then we’ll need to—”

“Or, Herr Forehead, we could just take a look at the script now, ja?”

Apollo nearly smacks him in the face. It’s not Apollo’s fault, really, because Klavier could have given him warning, and how was Apollo - how were Apollo’s reflexes - supposed to guess that he was right behind him? It’s Klavier’s fault for putting himself right in arm’s range of a startled defense attorney and deliberately startling him. He’s got no reason to look so offended that Apollo nearly hit him.

“Prosecutor Gavin! What are you doing here? And how did you—”

He remembers that Klavier attended Themis when he was younger, yes, and he’d wondered if along with Phoenix, there had been a prosecutor invited to lecture, just for equity - but that doesn’t explain why he’s here in the lecture hall, and in his hand, a professionally-bound booklet that, on the front, reads submission by Juniper Woods. “Is that the script? How did you get that?”

Klavier winks. “I just so happened to borrow it for you, Herr Forehead. And not even a word of thanks?”

“So you aren’t supposed to have it. Just to clarify.” Apollo glances around the hall, knowing he won’t be surprised if he spots a certain faery dog in the vicinity. If Vongole picked up something and ran off with it, would the ordinary person just see a floating object, or does what the invisible-to-most hound picks up turn invisible with her, too?

“Ah, I’m sure we’ll get it back before it’s noticed to be missing,” he says. Definitely stolen, but maybe he took it himself, ghosting in and out of wherever the police have their evidence piled up.

“So is anyone going to introduce me, or are you just gonna leave me hanging?” Poor Athena, left out of the loop again. “I guess you know this guy, Apollo?”

“Why hello there, Fräulein. I don’t believe we’ve met before.” And there goes Klavier turning on all the rock-star charm, a brilliant smile and his accent falling on thick. “I believe I would remember your face.” Apollo rolls his eyes. Typical Gavin. Athena doesn’t seem entirely taken with him, yet, but she’s definitely relaxing from her earlier frantic nervousness. “My name is Klavier Gavin. I’m a prosecutor, though I was rather more famous for my band, the Gavinners. Regrettably the band went, ah, kaput, last year, but I was the lead localist. Perhaps you heard of us.”

“Gavineers,” Athena repeats. “No, sorry, don’t know it.” She pauses for a moment, considering something that Apollo expects to be smarter than what she actually says. “Can I have your autograph anyway?”

Klavier laughs.

“No, Athena, don’t encourage him. His ego’s already the size of Jupiter.”

“Ach, jealously hardly becomes you, Herr Forehead. And you’ve no reason to be - you’re the one always being trailed by the lovely Fräuleins, ja?”

“She’s the new lawyer at the Agency,” Apollo says irritably. It really is so much easier to like Klavier with no one else around, no one he’s putting on a show for, putting up this facade. It feels - almost dishonest, and like Apollo’s talking to someone entirely different than the man he knows, or thinks he knows. And it doesn’t surprise him that he’s currently dealing with this version of Klavier, especially because they’ve already failed this month to deal with the elephant on the calendar. It’s been a year since they watched Kristoph break down into the changeling shadow of himself, and a year since Klaver told Apollo everything there was to know about him and his brother - and Apollo texted him about it, earlier in October, and Klavier refused to engage. Threw up a stone wall and Apollo has no idea why he’s so much less willing to talk than he was in April. Now they’re face to face and Klavier’s just playing the vapid Eurorock flirt, and Apollo can’t even wring his goddamn neck because he has a case to deal with instead.

“I’m Athena Cykes! Nice to meet you!” She extends a hand and Klavier slaps the mock trial script into her palm instead. He does give her a little bow of his head, saving her from looking too off-put, and she turns her attention to the script. “So this is Junie’s script?” she says. “The one the actual crime is like.”

“I figure we could give it a little mockup of our own,” Klavier says, sweeping a few loose strands of hair behind his ear. “With myself as the prosecution, of course, Herr Forehead as the defense, and you, Fräulein, to fill in as both judge and defendant.”

“So like a mock mock trial,” Athena says. “All right! I’m ready to go!” She flips open the script and starts paging through it. “Let’s see, what do we have for evidence…?”

“And you, Herr Forehead? Ready to rock?”

“No,” Apollo says. “Why can’t we just, you know, look at the mock trial script and just read it?”

“Ach, but where is the flair? The drama? To the bench with you!” He plants his hand in Apollo’s back and shoves him off toward one of the mock trial benches. Athena has already taken her place at the witness stand, her nose in the script book.

“You are insufferable,” Apollo mutters, and he regrets saying it - or that specific choice of word, or using that word earlier because that’s more how he tends to describe Klavier, not Clay - because Klavier doesn’t seem to hear him, and Athena’s head snaps up and she shoots him a look, and then tosses another pointed one in Klavier’s direction. Apollo shrugs. Athena’s not the one that reads body language. If he doesn’t say anything she can’t hear anything. She flips to the next page of the script and pulls a few photographs out from where they were wedged.

“Achtung, baby! Let’s rock!”

The murder is really, really just like the mock trial. The body was moved from the location of the murder (the art room in the mock trial, currently unknown in the real case) down to the quad (just the stretch of ground in the mock trial, on the stage set up in the real case), where it was found with an arrow in its side. The athletics storehouse lies around the side of the main building, near the art room window, and contains heavily padded high jump mats and ball carts, which would allow the body to be tossed out the window without showing signs of trauma and easily moved. The real murder weapon wasn’t decided in the mock trial - it wasn’t the arrow, Robin argued, and the mock autopsy report agreed - but Klavier suggests it’s an awl from the art room. The mock trial script has several photos packaged with it, including the awl, the one Juniper had in her pocket.

“I hope that was just paint on it,” Athena says, pressing her lips together. “It’s scary how similar this is.”

“It can’t be a coincidence,” Apollo says. He believes in coincidence, but not to this extent. “I guess we should investigate the art room.”

“I’ve got to sneak that script back, so I might as well check up on whether the police have gotten to that.” Klavier leans onto the bench, propping up his head on one hand. “What’s your next move, Fräulein and Forehead?”

“Wait, wait, hold up!” Athena yelps. “I need to finish scanning the script! I want to have a copy of the whole thing!” She has laid it out flat on the stand, and Widget is lit up, recording everything in front of it and projecting a screen to the side, where she is checking her photos of each page to be sure they are readable. “And then we’ll - we’ll - Apollo, what should we do next?”

“Start by interviewing everyone who might be related to the case,” he says. “Hugh, Robin, definitely - Mr Wright might be able to tell us if Professor Means has anything to say - and we’ll ask around to see if there are any other witnesses.”

Athena nods vigorously, and as she continues her work with the script she bounces on her feet with nervous energy that once again collects within her, the tension in her shoulders and the deeper furrow of her brow, anxious to get moving again. It might be a miracle if she finishes her task with the script without bolting off and chasing the need to feel like they’re making tangible progress. Klavier at the other bench has gone silent, and now that Apollo thinks to look, takes a wide glance around the hall, he spots Vongole stalking about the edges of the room, the way she did in the courtroom a year ago, circling silently and ceaselessly. Could Athena see her? Apollo doesn’t know what the pattern is for who can and can’t, and he isn’t sure he wants to.

Instead of a lot of things he could say, he goes over to the other bench and says, “You’re in an awfully helpful mood today.”

“Am I not supposed to be? Shall I keep all of my information to myself, though I am not the prosecutor, and this not my case?” He straightens up. “We have the same goal, ja? To find the truth of who killed the professor.”

Is that the goal of a defense attorney? The truth, or to save their client? Is that the goal of a prosecutor? The truth, or to get justice for those wronged? Should all of those be the same thing? “Did you know Professor Courte?” Apollo asks. Athena closes the script book but doesn’t move. Her intent stare, and her head tilting this way and that like an owl, tells him she’s not just waiting for the answer, but waiting to analyze it.

There is a moment after the question when Klavier slips, when even his powers of glamour don’t hold up, and actual, real, emotion finds its way across his face. He looks exhausted, he looks distraught, and Apollo has barely a moment to take it in, to process that pain, before it is gone, smoothed over and replaced by Klavier’s neutral expression. And more than neutral - more like he’s ratcheted the glamour up a few more notches, bright and gold and hard to tear his eyes off of Klavier’s face, but impossible to get even a glimpse of the actual person and feelings behind it. “Ja, I knew her. She taught the judges’ course, but she made some of her classes available to all students, and I was fortunate enough to be able to take some with her before I went to study abroad.”

Athena’s eyes narrow into a suspicious squint. So what she’s hearing is definitely more than yeah, took a couple classes from her a decade ago. Apollo guessed as much. He remembers Klavier talking about Themis, about a professor he had there, one who if not knew what he was and what the fae had done to him, had guessed by knowing enough about the fae to notice his horrible high-sodium dietary habits. Apollo opens his mouth to mention that.

Whether Klavier notices that, or notices Athena’s expression, or was just steeling himself for a second and always intended to keep talking, he adds, “She was a brilliant woman. Always concerned with truth and fairness and the proper means to an end, and determined to dig out corruption wherever it could be found. I’ve rarely known a more honest person, or a better one. I had not seen her for quite a while and had expected to speak with her again as I came back here. And now…”

Athena’s face falls. She raises a hand to brush aside her bangs and surreptitiously wipe her eyes. “So,” Klavier continues tersely. “I have as much reason as you to want to be sure that we find her real killer, ja?”

What to say to that? I’m sorry is hollow as it ever is, and the best Apollo can do - the only thing he can ever do - is to investigate, find the truth, expose the murderer. He and Athena should get moving again, but he doesn’t quite want to just leave Klavier alone now either. Not with the grief that keeps flickering across his face, a different kind of grief than before: Kristoph and Dayran were murderers. Professor Courte was murdered.

“Were you going to be giving a lecture like Mr Wright was, too?” Athena asks, offering the script book back to him.

Klavier takes it and idly thumbs through the pages, stopping on a photograph stuck between two middle pages, of Professor Courte lying in the dirt holding an arrow to her side, posing as the mock trial corpse. “Ja, and a concert as well. You saw the stage outside? That was to be for a bit of a reunion performance of the Gavinners, just this once, one last time.”

“Really?” Apollo asks. “I didn’t expect you’d just—”

He and Klavier never spoke about the band, the break-up, and Apollo had just assumed what it was about. No replacing Daryan, and then, after Kristoph, Klavier reevaluating everything, re-prioritizing, figuring out who was Klavier Gavin, and what was he, prosecutor or rock star? Or something like a crisis of faith. Of identity, though honestly, given what he knows, he thinks Klavier can’t really afford to get hung up on identity crises because that’s his whole life.

“Ja, well, the school asked, and suggested having a student representative up to sing one song, and at that point I could hardly refuse someone the grand opportunity to get up on stage there with me, could I?”

He winks, leaving Apollo more the fool to have expected something meaningful from him. “Oh! That was going to be Junie, right?” Athena asks. “Had you met her before? She’s a real sweetheart! She would never kill anyone!”

“We exchanged a few emails discussing song selection and other such things, but I am hardly the man to determine whether she did what she is accused of.” Klavier waves a hand, feigning a casual dismissal of Athena’s statement, when his own response is, knowing his history, anything but casual. Athena’s face darkens, but she perks up a moment later as he continues, “As I am neither prosecution today, nor ever the defense, I will refrain from judgment, and simply do my best to help you find the truth. That is an acceptable agreement to us, ja?”

“Ja! Danke! Whatever help you can give us would be fantastic!” Athena says brightly. “Thank you so much!”

Klavier grins back at her. First meeting of the Themis German Language Social Club, call to order. One day they’re going to need someone who knows Khura’inese and then they’ll all be sorry. (Ha. As if.) “Best we all get back to investigating, but I won’t say goodbye, as I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again. Bis Später! Herr Forehead, Fraulein.”

Vongole follows him up the stairs out of the lecture hall, close at his heels, confirming for certain that Athena can’t see the fae dog. “Au revoir!” Athena calls after him, and even still down on the floor, Apollo hears Klavier’s laugh.

“Huh, German sounds different than I remember,” Apollo says.

“Always the critic,” Athena says. “Prosecutor Gavin seems like a pretty good guy. Really friendly. It’s kind of nice, to be reminded that’s possible - I mean, I know, like Mr Wright and Prosecutor Edgeworth, and Prosecutor Debeste was very friendly too, but—”

“And then we’re against Prosecutor Blackquill for this case.”

Athena sighs. “And then,” she echoes, wearily, crossing her arms, “there’s Prosecutor Blackquill.”

“I’m afraid, by orders of Prosecutor Blackquill, that no one not affiliated with the police’s official investigation is allowed in here right now!”

Fulbright’s broad shoulders block off almost all of the doorway of the main building’s third-floor art room. Behind him, Phoenix gets a glimpse of some colorful mobiles hanging from the ceiling, several officers bustling about between easels, and, very likely not affiliated with the police’s official investigation, Prosecutor Gavin. Frozen with wide eyes, he stares at Phoenix, and then as an officer passes by barely an inch from him, he hops to the side, landing on one foot and bouncing to the other, deftly maneuvering himself between people who have no idea he is in their midst. “So Blackquill is the prosecutor on this case?” Phoenix asks, and it takes all of his years of practice to keep a straight face with Klavier, over Fulbright’s shoulder, making a slashing motion across his throat. Definitely not supposed to be there.

“I am here, am I not?” Fulbright asks. “Prosecutor Blackquill and I are a team! Which is to say yes, he will be prosecuting!”

Does Blackquill consider them equally a team? Somehow Phoenix doubts it. Though, all considered, the detective seems to like Blackquill well enough, which makes him someone Phoenix should try and talk to. He’s only going to learn so much about Blackquill from facing him in court, or talking to Edgeworth. What of the detective who has to be his eyes, ears, and hands on the crime scene?

(Although, as far as eyes are concerned, Phoenix tries to peer at the window to see if, by chance, there might be a hawk sitting on the outside sill.)

“I thought the crime scene was down at the stage,” Phoenix lies. The lack of blood beneath Courte’s body refutes that suggestion. “What are so many officers doing up here?”

“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to say,” Fulbright says. That’s a pretty good hint that they think this is a place of interest, and that they’re looking at it as, possibly, the real scene of the murder. “If you would, Mr Lawyer, please leave us to our work.”

“All right,” Phoenix says, catching Klavier’s eye. Kid still looks like he thinks the eye contact is a preamble to being hit by a train. “I’ll just be heading out that way.” He tosses his head back down the hall and with that, does as he is asked and leaves, and immediately after turning the corner he parks himself there and leans up against the wall. Just out of sight, but the stairs and elevators both lie beyond him, so anyone leaving or going to the art room passes right by him. And he waits there with his magatama burning a hole in his pocket, metaphorically; if it ever does anything, it gets cold, like ice against his skin that will never melt with his body heat.

The minutes tick past, and then, finally, the hellhound rounds the corner first, tall, tall as Phoenix has ever seen her, but still wispy, barely corporeal, head held low yet almost eye-to-eye with Phoenix, her empty red ones and his blue. Klavier follows a moment later, all gleaming shining gold like the sun shines only on him, like different light illuminates him than the overhead fluorescence of the academy hallway. Funny, how Thalassa looks like dusk, a rich blue and starlit night, while it’s the daylight that glows out from under Klavier’s skin. The same, and not at all; two sides of the sky, and the magic in the very air of the Twilight Realm soaked through them to make them so.

But Klavier’s eyes still gleam that haunted blue that says every way he turns his head, he expects to see fae, or just fears that he will. Balanced on a knife’s edge between paranoid and justifiably so. “What’s the word in there?” Phoenix asks.

When he stops looking with the Sight, everything about Klavier goes dark, dull, desaturated, gray and tired. Lines under his eyes like he hasn’t slept well in weeks, and the color sapped from his face by that same exhaustion, he’s two different people when the magatama cuts through the bright glamour that a changed child effortlessly breathes. A star, and the black hole it left when it burnt out.

“They think it’s the location that the murder actually took place,” Klavier answers. “Luminol reactions detected traces of blood on the floor that was wiped away. The suspect’s script also had the art room as the most likely scene of the crime, so they are only further convinced of her guilt.”

“Planning out a murder in advance so well that it gets chosen as a mock trial case.” Phoenix shakes his head. “Hell of an argument the prosecution is making. But that’s good to have confirmed for sure. Any talk about a motive?”

“None that I heard.”

“Not that they’ll necessarily need a motive, with this other evidence looking like it does,” Phoenix muses, “but Prosecutor Blackquill will probably figure out something anyway. I wonder what Ms Woods’ grades look like. She’s probably a smart kid” - her script was the one chosen, and she’s Student Council president too - “but that’s the first place I’d look if I was trying to figure—”

“How can you do this?” Klavier asks.

“What?”

“Just stand here and - and talk to me like nothing happened! I ruined your life!”

“Is that what you think happened?” A year ago, the only time they’ve seen each other since that unfortunate, life-changing trial, even with Vera, Trucy, and Apollo around as a buffer, Klavier still ran from him. Phoenix knows that this is exactly what Klavier thinks. Guilt wouldn’t have him running and hiding otherwise. “I don’t think the truth of that matter is as clear-cut as that.”

“Don’t—”

“If I held a grudge against everyone who inadvertently, or with good intent, helped a bad actor’s ploy to ruin my life, I wouldn’t have any damn friends left,” Phoenix interrupts. Maybe that’s an exaggeration. He would still have Larry and Maya - but Edgeworth? Pearls? Iris? Vera? Trucy? For Redd White, Morgan, Dahlia, Kristoph, their hands on the strings, knowing how to play a perfect prosecutor or a family member against their latest target.

(And Kristoph and Dahlia may be too alike, poison and betrayal and petty pride and a devil’s horns, but Iris knew exactly what her sister was. Iris consciously chose to help her manipulate and lie because she wanted to stop her from killing anyone else but didn’t want to see her caught for her crimes. She was a well-intentioned accomplice who knew exactly what she was doing to help her sister. Klavier had no idea. Phoenix would be a damn hypocrite to forgive one and not the other.)

“Don’t - don’t patronize me, just because I’m not one of your little band who can see lies.”

Phoenix swallows, forcing down a strange and foreign anger that bubbles up from his stomach. Is it because he’s hearing someone else’s voice when Klavier speaks, someone they’re both conspicuously avoiding mention of. “Dammit, Gavin, I’m not. Look at me” - he motions to his chest, to the cursed necklace mark imprinted around the base of his neck, that he knows Klavier can See with his marked eyes - “and tell me that your brother was the first person to hate me enough to not care who becomes collateral and who gets used!” He drops his hands to his sides and they smack against his legs. “I’ve been here before, and I’m not lying to you, and I don’t hate you or blame you.”

“You don’t hate me,” Klavier repeats, his voice dead and dry and wholly accentless. Does he do that on purpose? Or is it an accident that it slips, that he sounds just like - like him. “You don’t hate me, of course you don’t, I’m to believe that, yes? Then do you always carry that magatama with you?” He tilts his head; his eyes don’t waver from that grayer shade of blue. “Or that’s just something you happened to grab knowing that I would be around.” He leans forward a few inches so that he’s closer to looking Phoenix in the eye. “Couldn’t let me get past you. Couldn’t bear the thought of something slipping out of your control.”

“Are you sure you’re still talking to me with that last bit?” Phoenix asks. Or does he just want to bait Phoenix into reacting to the comparison - does he want to make Phoenix hate him for these things he’s saying? Does he want Phoenix to hate him, to hate him for his part in what happened as much as he hates himself for it. “Yes, I did bring my magatama along because of you, but I was going to lend it to someone.”

He’s got no way of knowing how Klavier is going to react - especially since they don’t know who killed Courte, who to blame, who to hate and hold responsible, but Phoenix, Phoenix is right here, and Klavier already lashing out at him as the specter of his guilt and everything that went wrong - but he knows he needs to say it. “Professor Courte gave me a call last night. We were supposed to meet earlier about the lecture, but she also admitted to me that there’s a particular someone who she was worried was avoiding her, for whatever reasons he might think he has, and she asked if I had any way to help her be sure that he wouldn’t be able to slip away without her getting a chance to chat with him.”

The last of the light bleeds from Klavier’s face; something dies behind his eyes. “She’s worried about you,” Phoenix says, realizing as the words emerge into the air that there is a problem with the statement, and Klavier blanches, hearing it too. “She - she was. I’m sorry.”

Klavier’s nod of acknowledgement is a shallow motion, and his face pinches together like he fears moving too fast will make him sick. And then he bolts for the stairwell, flinging the door open and disappearing inside.

“Klavier—!”

The door slams with a force that shakes the hall. But the hound remains there in front of Phoenix, looking at him, as though she’s waiting for something. Seeking some kind of help or reassurance Phoenix doesn’t know how to offer.

Over behind the main building, beneath one of the art room windows, they find Robin Newman high-strung and lamenting - loudly, furiously - the fact that as a prosecutor there’s nothing he can do to save Juniper. The police investigation at the stage is ongoing - they tell Apollo and Athena to go away because students aren’t allowed to be snooping around, and Athena gets fired up and Apollo has to urge her away before they have a Nine-Tails Vale redux but with more witnesses. Stomping away and telling Apollo that they’ve just got to come at this from another angle, literally, to hide and eavesdrop, Athena stumbles into a conspicuous cardboard box that pops up to reveal itself to contain a student - Myriam Scuttlebutt, one of Juniper’s classmates in the judge course, by what of the uniform they can see not hidden beneath the box. It has arm holes in the front so that Myriam can have a fuller range of motion. It’d be impressive dedication to snooping if she wasn’t the one who wrote the trashy campus tabloid and its slander about Juniper, and if she hadn’t just tried lying to Apollo about being Juniper’s friend to get information on the case. As it is, she’s annoying.

She’s the prosecution’s witness for tomorrow. Blackquill has bagged a girl in a box who hisses like a snake, and when the sunlight hits one of the punched-out handholds in the box, the place that presumably Myriam sees through, her eyes catch the light and glow like a deer in a car’s headlights.

Human eyes don’t reflect light like that.

Surprise isn’t even an emotion that Apollo feels in these situations anymore, just resignation. Maybe Blackquill will say something tomorrow that drops a hint. Maybe Phoenix will sit in the gallery and be able to tell them. Maybe Apollo is too tired to care anymore.

Phoenix they find again in the main campus building, with Professor Means, who, on finding out that Athena took up Juniper’s defense, tells her that he will do everything in his power to help the case and that if they aren’t finding the evidence they need for the correct verdict, to come see him at once. Phoenix’s face darkens as the professor speaks, and Apollo is glad to know that he isn’t alone in thinking that all sounds mildly shady.

By the time they’ve made this full loop of the campus, they find that Hugh has also circled back to the lecture hall, where he tells them that he actually saw Courte’s body when he was wandering around before the mock trial started, but he didn’t want to say anything because the mock trial would be called off and he knew he had to win because he was going to confess to Juniper when he won. Athena looks aghast, and she doesn’t say why but Apollo thinks he has an idea: that, of all people who could be in love with her friend, it has to be this black hole of egocentrism that took it to the point of ignoring a corpse.

If these are the kind of people that go to a law high school, Apollo will gladly take the college debt instead. (Not that Themis isn’t probably expensive as hell, but. The point remains.)

The autumn sun sinks down through the orange sky as they navigate rush-hour traffic to the detention center. Athena’s leg starts bouncing in the waiting room, enough to disturb Apollo’s chair next to her, and she continues to vibrate as they head in to see Juniper. “I think you can afford to take it down a notch,” Apollo tells her, and she nods even while she continues to drum her heel against the ground. So much for being a bastion of calm to support their client. He just hopes that Juniper won’t really notice Athena’s frantic nervous energy.

Juniper is already on the other side of the glass when they enter, but she sits with her body positioned away from them, her arms folded and her hands tucked away, and her long hair hanging down past her face. “Heya, Juniper?” Apollo ventures, Athena gone silent but still twitching her leg, and all of that movement in the corner of his eye doesn’t help him as he tries to understand Juniper’s body language. She’s afraid, upset, understandable, but is some of that - is she nervous because they’re here now? Is some of her fear directed at them? “How are you doing? We’ve talked to everyone that we could but there are a couple things we wanted to ask you.”

Juniper turns her head. Apollo’s stomach drops; Athena gasps, and Widget lets out a staticky, surprised warble. No word to this emotion - “surprise” doesn’t quite cut it, even with Widget’s yellow background. “I wanted to tell you, Thena. I just...” Juniper coughs into her hand. Her skin has taken up the yellow-green color of a plant that hasn’t seen enough sunlight, and when she pushes back some of the hair that frames her face, she tucks it behind a pointed ear.

When Athena said that Vera reminded her of an old friend of hers, she didn’t mean Juniper, did she?

“I didn’t know how,” Juniper concludes at last, when the silence stretches on without interruption from either Athena or Apollo. “Or if you could still think of me as—” Another coughing fit interrupts her.

“Of course you’re still my friend!” Athena says furiously. Widget lights up red, bright enough that it illuminates the bottom half of her face. “And of course we will still defend you!” She clenches her fists and turns her impassioned glare on Apollo. Does she expect that he’s going to be the weak link? That after Tenma Taro, no, this is what’s too weird? They’ve been working together for a whole six months. She should know him better than that.

“Of course we’ll still defend you,” Apollo repeats, before Athena can kick him or something, like she looks like she might. “You don’t need to worry about that. You’re not the first changeling I’ve defended, anyway.”

“Huh?” Athena cocks her head to the side. They didn’t tell her about Vera - Vera didn’t mention it, and so Apollo and Trucy never did. “Wait, really?”

“I’m not” - Juniper coughs - “a changeling.” She raises her head and finally looks them in the eyes. Her own aren’t the plain red of all the fae’s true forms that Apollo has ever seen, though if he actually thinks about it, that number is only three, Kristoph, Vera, and Iris. The whites of her eyes are still white, and still have dark visible pupils in their centers - it is just the irises that have changed to that bright, distinctive faery red. And thinking back, he definitely remembers noticing that Vera’s ears were large, distinct and almost batlike, while Juniper’s aren’t much larger than a human’s ears, and if they had the points but without her sickly green skin, Apollo isn’t sure that too many people would notice. Her hands, nervously clasped together, lack claws. “I’m half human.”

“Really?” Athena has finally stopped bouncing. Was she worried about some discord she heard in Juniper’s voice, that has now cleared now that she’d admitted this. “How is that - how does that happen?”

“Athena,” Apollo says, “nobody here wants to explain to you how babies are made.”

Juniper covers her face with her hands.

“I know how that works, Apollo!” she yells, her face reddening like Widget’s face reddens into anger. “I’m not asking that! I mean, I didn’t know that was - I guess there’s no reason why it wouldn’t be possible - so you’ve always been like this? Looked like this? I definitely don’t remember that when we were kids.”

Juniper doesn’t lower her hands but pulls them apart so that she’s peering through at Apollo and Athena with one eye. Pink has begun to show through the yellow-green of her cheeks. “I didn’t know when I was younger,” she says. “My grandmother - you remember I live with her, right, Thena? - never said anything until she thought I was old enough to understand, and to be strong enough to consciously hide it.” She bites her lip. “It’s easier if you don’t know, and just believe the whole way that you’re human.”

“Grandmother on which side of the family?” Apollo asks. He’d be lying to say he wasn’t personally curious, but who can honestly say before it happens what kind of information becomes relevant in a trial. They might need to know.

“She - she isn’t human.” Apollo wonders if that’s odd that even someone who shares blood with the fae seems reluctant to name them as they are. “And she warned me that this might happen if I get too stressed or emotional and now—” Another longer coughing fit overwhelms her.

“Do your friends know?” Athena asks. “Robin and Hugh?” Something like distaste hangs evident in her voice on their names. Earlier she told Apollo that all three of them sounded anxious when they spoke about the strength of their bonds, like maybe they really are on the verge of a triangular friendship breakdown, be it over the supposed love triangle or something else. Some other secrets, and she’s worried about Juniper in the middle of it.

“N-no.” Juniper seems especially nervous again, tense across her shoulders and she’s moved one hand to clutch her other wrist tightly enough that her knuckles don’t quite turn white, but a very pale shade of yellow. Close enough to white on green skin. Is she worried what they think of her for not telling them? For not telling even her closest two friends? “I wanted to, really. But I just - I never - I—”

“You couldn’t figure out how,” Apollo says, remembering Klavier talking about that same problem, Klavier telling him that he never even told Daryan, never knew the way to. “I understand completely.”

Athena raises her eyebrows at that - now she’s probably wondering what secret Apollo is hiding, and good luck to her if she ever tries to guess, but Apollo isn’t even thinking of his own situation right now - but Juniper visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat. “And I wanted to tell you too, Thena, as soon as I got to see you again, but you’d been away for so long that I couldn’t even start to guess how you would react. Or if you’ve been away for so long that you wouldn’t even believe me and would just think that I was crazy.” She looks down at her hands. “I think I started, um, showing” - she touches a hand to her face - “during the interrogation, and that prosecutor, Prosecutor Blackquill—” Her head snaps up and her red eyes widen. “Prosecutor Blackquill, Thena, he—”

“He’s a real jerk, I know,” Athena interrupts, “but we’ve beaten him three times before and I’m not gonna let him convict you! I promise, Junie, you don’t have to worry about that.”

She nods. By the expression on her face, that wasn’t all she was going to say, but after a few more seconds of silently looking at Athena, she continues, “He must have seen me this way that you’re seeing me but he didn’t even say anything. And I’m afraid that he’s waiting for some perfect time to reveal it, because—” She stops talking and they wait while she coughs. “Because—” Again, she coughs so badly that she can’t continue through it.

“Are you all right?” Apollo asks.

“Sasha has a heart condition,” Athena says abruptly, and the confusion might have successfully paused Juniper’s fit. “And so did Azura, and they were both selkies. And they said that it’s like, a thing, for people who are magic like that, trying to grow up in the human world.”

Juniper nods. “There’s so much metal and iron everywhere. And here especially. I feel like I can’t breathe in here.” Her shoulders shake as she inhales.

“Being partially human doesn’t help you with that?” Apollo glances down at the ring on his hand and is glad that she didn’t offer to shake hands with anyone when they first met.

“My grandmother said that it’s a genetic grab bag,” Juniper replies. “I guess I’m just not very lucky. But I’m worried that the prosecution will” - she coughs - “that I don’t know how he could know but—” She coughs again, but keeps talking through it, her voice growing more and more high-pitched and strained like she’s running out of air and choking. “But Professor Courte was the only person at Themis who knew this about me.”

She doubles over, wheezing.

She’s afraid that Blackquill is going to turn that into a motive. Apollo gives it some thought and decides there’s no point to reassuring Juniper that even if her glamour hadn’t cracked up, Blackquill would still probably know. That’s not reassurance.

“I…” Athena’s voice emerges faintly and her eyes dart toward Apollo, as though he isn’t equally clueless to how to respond to this revelation. Finally, she repeats, firmly, “We’ll get you found innocent, Junie, I promise.”

Get as much other information from Juniper as she knows about the mock trial and the real case, and then go into the trial tomorrow with their heads held high. That’s all they can do. They have to hope that it’s enough. They’ll have to make it be enough.

#fic: the witches of los angeles #roddy fanfics

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jayshq · 3 years

Text

Under the read more you will find the verses for all my characters, as my verses page is currently broken.

(DAN, CHUCK, & STEVE DON’T HAVE VERSES UP YET, BUT THEY WILL BE ADDED)

ALEC:

☆ 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓈 𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓎 | main : Alec Lightwood currently works as a Shadowhunter at the Institute in New York. (BOOK BASED)

☆ 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝓃 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 | show : Alec Lightwood is Head of the New York Institute. (SHOW BASED)

☆ 𝓉𝑜𝓅 𝒹𝑜𝑔 | alpha : Alec is a shadowhunter and alpha in a world controlled by status. (used for all a/b/o threads)

☆ 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 | inverted : set in the “world inverted” universe from season 1, episode 10.

☆ 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 | pre series : set before the events of the show and books.

☆ 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓁 | mundane : Alexander is currently studying law at NYU. He wants to be in law enforcement.

☆ 𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓌𝑜𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓈 | tw : Alec grew up at Idris, never moving to the Institute. After a nasty werewolf encounter he turned. His mother couldn’t stand to look at him properly after that and he eventually decided to leave. Having nowhere to go, he followed this strange pulling in his gut and found himself in Beacon Hills. (omega)

CLARY:

☆ 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓌𝒶𝓇 | main : BOOK COMPLIANT. Clary Fray had her life turned upside down when she was 16, discovering she was a shadowhunter and the only one who could stop this secret world’s greatest threat: her father. This is set during the events of the Mortal War and Dark War.

☆ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 | show : SHOW COMPLIANT. Clary Fray had her life turned upside down when she was 18, discovering she was a shadowhunter and the only one who could stop this secret world’s greatest threat: her father. It seems her brother is also someone she must stop. ( this will be my main default for show canon only muses, but i am primarily book based blog )

☆ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑒𝒹 | alternate : Clary Fray is a normal girl, going to university, hanging with friends and spending time with her family. She has an amazing mother, a hilarious father, and a great older big brother. So, why does something feel off? (1x10)

☆ 𝓁𝒾𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑔𝓈 | team evil : Clary is currently with Sebastian and Jace, who were bonded together by Lilith. She is only there to find out Sebastian’s plan and save Jace. Whether or not she has the fairy ring connecting her to Simon will be decided on a case by case basis. (Jace, Simon, and Johnathan muses ONLY)

☆ 𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓌𝑜𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓈 | tw: Alec sent Clary to Beacon Hills when they got wind of some really nasty stuff coming from their area, smelling an awful lot like werewolves. She was told that the McCall pack was not to be trusted and has no reason to believe otherwise. On the note of Theo: they have laws that his crimes do not follow him back from the dead, she doesn’t agree with this, but knows she cannot condemn him for them or show prejudice.

☆ 𝒶𝒹𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓍 | mcu/dc : With the Arrow, the Flash, Supergirl, Superman and tons of others appearing the Institute has had to start making plans for aliens and metas. Clary is a representative for the Clave that Alec has put in charge of a lot of the affairs while laws are drawn up. The D.E.O. and A.R.G.U.S. are working with the Clave to keep everyone in line. Clary mostly deals with informing the others of the shadow world and helping when problems with demons arise.

☆ 𝒾𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 | rd : Clary Fairchild-Blossom is from Denmark. She was born as the golden daughter of Christopher Blossom, until it was found out she was actually the daughter of his affair to Jocelyn Fairchild when she was ten. The loving family she’d once known cast her aside as a disgrace. She cut herself off from them when she realized how shallow they were. She was sent to Riverdale after her mother’s passing, only to find out her cousin Jason had died.

☆ 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 | spn : Clarissa is an angel who fell in love with a demon and fell to be with him in Hell. She kept her grace and even joined in helping other demons. However, when her love died she left Hell, now both demons and angels hate her. She wants to return home but doesn’t know how to start. She’s currently trying to do good on Earth as penance.

☆ 𝒾𝓂 𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 | ouat : Clary is one of the daughters of Duchess from The Aristocats. She ran away from her family in search of an adventure like the one her mom had always told her about. She eneded up sneaking onto a ship and landing herself on Neverland Island. She didn’t escape until a group opened a portal to Storybrooke. However, when she went through she was transformed from cat to human.

☆ 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇 | seraphina : Sera was born in her mother’s arms next to her father and older brother. When Jocelyn ran not even a week later her mother lost her just a portal closed. Jocelyn came back for her not even 24 hours later, but Valentine had already staged the fire and left with his two experiments. She grew up along side her brother and is only too happy to whatever is asked of her by her father. She believes Jocelyn to be dead and she has avast interest in their surrogate brother Jace, where as Jonathan seems to dislike him despite never having met him.

MAGNUS:

☆ 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓊𝓇𝑒 | main : Magnus Bane, 400+ year old High Warlock of Brooklyn. Fought in both the Mortal War and Dark War. Is happy to help a selective group of friends, and honestly wish the rest would just shut up. (Book Based)

☆ 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 | show : Magnus Bane is the high warlock of Brooklyn, ward keeper of the New York Institute, club owner, and apparently the shadowhunters on call warlock. (Show Based)

☆ 𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒹𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓉 | inverted : (part 1)Magnus Bane, previous High Warlock of Brooklyn, now does parlor tricks for a living. With the shadow world having been quiet Magnus has resourced to living a mundane life. (part 2) Until a young girl named Clary Fairchild came calling. Now with his magic restored he vows to never lose it again.

☆ 𝓃𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓁 𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 | mundane : Magnus Bane graduated from NYU with perfect grades and a degree in fashion design. He currently works as a “closet assistant” for the Vogue Magazine office in New York.

☆ 𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁𝓉𝓎 | hogwarts : Magnus is the potions professor at Hogwarts. He’s a Slytherin/Ravenclaw (partner dependent) alumni, and is also the Head teacher of said house. I also have a younger subplot to this verse where Magnus is still a student.

☆ 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒷𝑜𝓎 𝓅𝒽𝒶𝓈𝑒 | high school : Magnus Bane grew up in Indonesia, was shipped off to England at 16 by his step-father, moved to New York when he was 18. Magnus’ biological father has been attempting to contact him, but Magnus is trying to avoid it. His biological father has also sent him a large sum of money, and while Magnus had no intention of creating a relationship he’s also not stupid enough to turn his nose up at money. He’s in his last year of high school. He can’t wait to get out and go off to college. He plays up the bad boy act, constantly talking back to teachers, skipping class, showing up to school hungover. He doesn’t care what other’s think, and just wants to be left alone.

☆ 𝓇𝑜𝓎𝒶𝓁𝓉𝓎 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹𝓈 𝒸𝓇𝓊𝑒𝓁𝓉𝓎 | dark : Magnus decided to abandon the mundane world after he’d been hurt one too many times. He went to Edom, and with dark magic he’d harnessed was able to murder his father, taking his rightful place on the throne.

☆ 𝒷𝒾𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝒷𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 | disney : Magnus bane is the son of king Asmodeus or Edom. Edom is a cruel and unjust kingdom. Magnus never intended to take over, so he spent his time learning magic (due to the dark energy within him) and alchemy. He ran away at the young age of 16. Due to Asmodeus’ love of the dark arts Magnus had been made immortal. Asmodeus died many years ago, but Magnus has no interest in playing king to a kingdom full of greed and demonic presence. Instead, he travels the land, aiding those who need it with his magic, for a small price. He is feared by many, due to his ability to wage war with the snap of his fingers, though he’d never found a need to.

☆ 𝓅𝓊𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝓏𝓎 𝑒𝓎𝑒 | firefly : magnus bane is a name known across many galaxies. he is an enemy of the alliance, and a business man. he deals in secrets and rumors. he knows things that are meant to be unknown and is vastly proud of it. he lives a life of luxury, and enjoys it highly. he is also the man to go to if you need anything the alliance has deemed illegal. the alliance knows what he does but has no proof.

☆ 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝒹𝒻𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 | mob : Magnus runs his operation out of New York, but it stretches across the East Coast of America. He is well known to anyone in the mob and gang scene, as well as the N.Y.C. P.D., not that they have any evidence of his wrongdoings. Magnus has legitimize businesses in both his club and a lot of real estate. He lives in a mansion with most of the trusted men and women in his operation. He’s leading in the New York scene, both because he never lies and because he is also the only one with access to Santiago approved drugs.

☆ 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 | cmbyn : Magnus has been a friend of Mr. Perlman’s for many years, the two having even traveled together for a time. However, he’s never come to stay with them on their summer trips to Italy, until now. Magnus is content to spend his summer enjoying the simpler things in life, instead of the hectic New York fashion world he works in year round.

☆ 𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓊𝓈𝓉 | marvel : Warlocks have existed for at least as long as written history, but anyone that can feel magic will tell you it’s been part of the world since the dawn if time. They are an extremely rare breed, only a few hundred ever alive at one time. Most hide amongst the mutants, able to pass their abilities off as a mutation. Every warlocks magic is specific to them, and entirely their own. They draw most of their power from the Earth, but they are inherently magical and don’t need any magical focus, magic flows through them.

Due to such a low amount of warlocks, their is an underground network. The Warlock Network. It’s the easiest, fastest, and safest way for warlocks to get in touch with one another. It is commonly used as a market, a way to trade ingredients and information, but it is also how a warlock can send out an alert that they’re in trouble or that someone is gunning for warlocks.

Magnus himself leads a relatively calm life. He’s a fashion designer and wildly popular among the Upper East Side, despite his residing in Brooklyn. He lives off multiple fortunes he’s made over the years and works for fun. He also runs one of the hottest clubs in New York, Pandemonium. Living in New York meant that there was constantly life threatening occurrences thanks to the different superheroes that inhabited the city. Magnus never bothered to get involved. As long as himself and those he cared about were safe than the guys in tights could handle the rest. That doesn’t mean that Magnus’ status does not afford him certain super friends, however.

note: warlock marks exist but not every warlock has them

☆ 𝒾𝒻 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓀𝒾𝓁𝓁 | thg : Magnus is one of the most sought after designers in the capitol and when it comes to the games he’s given to only the best of the best. Magnus was a victor himself but he refused to be a trainer. He has severe ptsd from the games. He is able to watch the games, but he has nightmares, can’t enter any desert areas (his arena was desert), and certain insect sounds will trigger him.

☆ 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝒶 𝓌𝒶𝓎 | jurassic world : Magnus Bane had never cared about dinosaurs. Sure, he thought they were interesting an he found it sad that so many generations had lived without them, but that was where it ended. Then he met Etta. She was perfect in Magnus’ eyes, and she just happened to be a medic at the Jurassic World theme park. For the first year of the relationship it wasn’t a big deal.

However, when the one of the old herbivore trainer’s retired Etta begged Magnus to apply. Despite not needing a job, due to the family fortune he’d inherited, he did it for her. Magnus had no formal training with animals, let alone prehistoric ones. Yet, he surpassed a lot of the trained applicants and got the job.

Magnus started with some of the herbivore attractions, then moved up to also training some of the younger ones, an eventually it was also added to his duties to help care for the infants. Thanks to all his time spent with Etta Magnus is also an on call medic. He isn’t licensed, but if he’s closer than the on-site medic and it’s urgent he’ll sub in. He’s proven himself multiple times.Etta was diagnosed two years later. They found the cancer in February and she was gone by April.

Magnus closed off. He let friendships slip away and made no effort to make new ones. He refuse to do shows for the visitors, only working with the younger ones and infants. If investors come to the park Magnus will instruct an intern to deal with them. He still does any medic work need of him.

Magnus fell in love with the majestic creatures within only months of working at the park, but Etta’s passing cause him to have an even deeper connection and love for the animals. Magnus is extremely protective of the dinosaurs in his care and if anyone even mentions the park in regards to revenue he will leave the room.

PARTNER SPECIFIC VERSES

☆ 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓉 | bytheanchor : set in my main verse. Magnus, Alec and Jace are all in a happy and committed poly relationship. I play both Magnus and Alec.

BEN:

;; before that night | ben: Canon Ben Solo. Teenage Ben is training under his uncle Luke to be a Jedi master, and is proving a talented student. He feels a pull to the dark side, but due to his teachings isn’t sure how to ask for help out of fear. He’s fighting to cling to the light that burns deep inside him and the force, sticking close to those he loves for good measure.

;; my birthright | tfa : Canon Ben Solo, this will follow through the events of The Force Awakens.

;; nothing stand in our way | tlj : Canon Ben Solo, this will follow through the event of The Last Jedi and all the way up to the Palpatine battle in The Rise of Skywalker. THIS IS NOT HIS MAIN VERSE, even though many threads will operate inside it.

;; finish what you started | main : Canon-Divergent Kylo Ren, the only main difference being that while he did give up an amount of his life force to save Rey he didn’t die. He was in the resistance med bay for over a week, but he pulled through. He is unsure if he wishes to stay with the resistance to hunt down what’s left of the First Order, or if he’d prefer to be on his own for the time being.

;; the conflict in you | light side : after killing Supreme Leader Snoke he accepted Rey’s offer and is now working along side her and the rebel alliance to take down Hux and his army of stromtroopers.

coming soon

POE:

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴 | main : (Canon Compliant) Poe Dameron is one of the most skilled pilots among the resistance.

𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓭 | scoundrel : Poe Dameron is a pilot for hire and very well trusted in criminal circles to get the job done quickly and quietly.

𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓽𝓮𝓬𝓱𝓷𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓮 | dark : Poe was born to an ex-rebel pilot and First Order prisoner, but was raised by his step-father, a First Order general. He has been learning to use the force since he was ten years old and has been lied to about how the light and dark sides work. 𝓬𝓻𝓪𝔃𝓲𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 | modern : Poe is a retired Afghanistan veteran without a clear path for his future.

𝓭𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷 | nasa :tba

𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓰𝓸 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮 | peace : tba

REY:

☆ 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓮 | tfa : Canon-Compliant. This verse will follow the events of the Force Awakens.

☆ 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓶𝓮 | tlj : Canon-Compliant. This verse will follow the events of the Last Jedi and through the Rise of Skywalker until the Palpatine battle.

☆ 𝓲𝓶 𝓪𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓭 𝓷𝓸 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 | main : Canon-Compliant. This verse is set after the battle with Palpatine. Rey has chosen Skywalker as her surname and is working with the resistance to take down the rest of the First Order.

☆ 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭 | dark : Canon-Divergent. When Ben offers Rey his hand in the Last Jedi she takes it with the hope to restore peace to the galaxy from the dark side.

v. 2: Canon-Divergent. When Palpatine offers Rey the throne, she kills him and ascends it.

☆ 𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓽 𝓰𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝔂 | smuggler : coming soon : coming soon

☆ 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓪 𝔀𝓪𝔂 | jurassic world : coming soon

☆ 𝓪𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼 | nasa : coming soon

#[verses.]#cw: long post

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crazy-noonoohead · 6 years

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My top 10 shows I saw in 2017.

This is in no particular order, and to prove that, I’m sticking one of the best in the middle and saving one for last. I’m mostly focusing on shows I saw for the first time in 2017, but I’m making two exceptions (four if you count Broadway transfers that I saw in previous incarnations) and you probably already know what those two are. I’m also sticking to plays and musicals as opposed to concerts, comedy performances, etc., but I’ll include a few of those in my honorable mentions. So here goes!

The Book Of Mormon with Dom Simpson as Elder Price: Let me start off by saying I adore Nic Rouleau. He’s been in various productions of BOM since its very beginning, and he still continues to get better every time I see him. And when I say this next thing, I don’t want anyone to think I’m tired of him, because that couldn’t be further from the truth. The day he leaves the show is probably the day the world ends. But since he’s been with the show for so long, he’s the Price I’ve seen the most often, by a long shot, so seeing a new take on the role was a refreshing experience that I’ll always cherish. When I met Dom at the stage door, I found out that I had seen the show more times than he had done the show. I hope he has more opportunities to go on, because he gave a wonderful performance! (Quick shout-outs to the other two times I saw it this year, especially when I went on my birthday.)

Falsettos’ closing performance: Having frequented this show consistently since the first preview (for...no particular reason), it was such a privilege to watch this cast of seven give it their all every single time. Still, that final show was probably everyone’s best performance. Andrew’s final “The Games I Play” was definitely the best I had heard him sing it, and the fact that I was sitting close enough to see the tears in his eyes was both a blessing and a curse that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Anthony powered through even though he was getting over an illness (which I would not have realized if I hadn’t already known) and had to call out earlier that weekend. Stephanie had to take moments during “I’m Breaking Down” and “Trina’s Song,” but somehow made it through “Holding To The Ground.” Brandon teared up during “A Marriage Proposal.” Everyone was emotional during the curtain call. And of course, I started crying the moment the lights went down for the first act and rarely stopped. The woman sitting next to me was a friend of William Finn’s and had lost friends during the AIDS crisis, so the show resonated with her in a way that it never will with me. I’m grateful that the production is on Broadway HD and that I can watch it whenever I want to, but it’s not the same as being there. It’s been almost a year and I still miss it a lot. What more can I say?

The Play That Goes Wrong: After seeing this in London with my mom and stepdad, we all loved it so much that we jumped on the chance to see the Broadway transfer as soon as possible. It goes wrong in all the right ways! I have now seen it three times on Broadway, and the jokes are still fresh and hilarious. Even while laughing at all the mishaps, I find myself sympathizing with these characters and admiring their determination to keep going. Sometimes it cheered me up, and other times it made an already good day even better. I hope I can go back soon to see the new cast.

The Great Comet: I went into this one knowing nothing about the plot, just that a lot of people loved it. I was also seeing it 12 days after Falsettos closed, so you can probably guess the state of mind I was in. But I loved this show! The music was like nothing I’d heard before (in a good way, obviously), the set felt intimate and elaborate at the same time, and the cast was incredibly talented AND one of the most diverse I’d ever seen, if not THE most. Somehow they made it easy for me to relate to characters living in 19th century Russia, despite living as a millennial in 21st century New York. I saw it twice, once with the original Broadway cast and once with Dave Malloy and Ingrid Michaelson, and I would have gone more if it had the long, successful run it deserved. But unfortunately, just like a comet, it lived up to its name and shone brightly for a short amount of time before disappearing. Also, the pierogies they gave out before the show were delicious. And I’m just now realizing that they missed out on an opportunity to make “Pierre-ogi” puns.

Bastard Jones: I have to admit this one grew on me. Once I found out that a former member of Toxic Audio was in the cast, I knew I was going to see it multiple times no matter what I thought, so thank goodness it was a good show! The first time I went, I enjoyed myself, and of course I loved getting to see René perform for the first time in ten years, but I wasn’t blown away. But that second time...maybe the performances got tighter. Maybe the jokes just landed better. Maybe it was because I was with the first friend I ever took to a Toxic Audio show. I’ll never know for sure. But I liked it a lot more the second time. While most of the draw for me was still seeing René in a role that is absolutely perfect for him, I ended up falling for the whole show as well. The slapstick humor, word play, and dirty jokes are completely up my alley (there’s a dirty joke somewhere in the phrase “up my alley”), and I found two songs I want to use for auditions once the sheet music becomes available. I saw this one four times during its month-long run, and the only reason I didn’t go more is that it sold out super quickly after getting rave reviews. The team is hoping that their next step is a longer run in a bigger venue, and I will definitely revisit the show when that happens, especially if René is still playing Partridge.

Sunday In The Park With George: I watched the DVD of the original production a few years ago because my friend was very nice and lent it to me, and I was so excited that I could finally see a live production. It. Was. Fantastic! Annaleigh Ashford and Jake Gyllenhaal were both wonderful and almost definitely would have received Tony nominations if the production had decided to compete. Andrew Kober, whom I’d seen in a few other things, was a swing in the show and got to go on for the first time the night I was there, which made it even more of a treat. This was a great production of an already great show, and although it was always going to be a limited run, I wish it could have lasted longer. More Sondheim on Broadway, please!

Jitney: My mom and I saw this one together, and it took a while to get going for us, but once it did, we were hooked. A super talented group of people sharing a compelling story? Yes, please! We both left the theatre pleasantly surprised, and everyone who signed at the stage door was very nice. Most of the actors didn’t have Sharpies and I got to lend them mine, which was a nice bonus. Of course, it’s always great to see BOM alumni continue to be successful, and I saw it the day after my BOM anniversary on purpose. The alumnus in this show ran over and gave me a big hug that night.

Brigadoon: This weekend-long City Center production looked ready to transfer and get an open run! Stephanie J. Block’s solo number was the stand-out for me (partially because she’s Stephanie, but her song would have been my favorite anyway), and Kelli O’Hara and Patrick Wilson were amazing as the two leads. Yes, the show has that “falling in love after knowing each other for one day” thing that annoys me about a lot of older musicals, but it still has a beautiful score and a unique premise.

The Band’s Visit: I loved this show when I saw it at the Atlantic Theatre last November, and I was very excited when I found out it was transferring to Broadway, but I also had my reservations. I was concerned that the show would lose its intimacy in a larger space. Boy, was I happy to be wrong! They picked the right theatre, as it most likely would have lost the intimacy in a bigger house, almost the entire cast is the same, and somehow the show was even better the second time. It’s a heartwarming, simple but effective story that we could all use right now. It’s not a “see over and over again” show for me, but I will definitely return to Bet Hatikva (with a B) at some point. I can’t officially endorse it for Best Musical until I see more of the new musicals this season, but if it doesn’t at least get nominated, I’m rioting.

Groundhog Day: Will I get through this paragraph without crying? Won’t I get through this paragraph without crying? Civilization once again hangs in the balance. Wow. What an unlikely love story! And contrary to those corny Hallmark movies where you figure the love story out in the first 30 seconds of the trailer, this love story was ACTUALLY unlikely. For me, at least. This was the show that got me excited about theatre again after Falsettos closed. I found something else I couldn’t stop gushing about or recommending to friends. At first most of that excitement came from the novelty of the first preview (Google the story if you don’t already know; this post is long enough already) and the awesomely professional way the team handled such a stressful situation, but as I listened to the cast recording more, it became clear that it wasn’t just that one experience that I loved. It was the whole show, and everyone involved. They took the story of a beloved, seemingly flawless movie, and in my not-even-living-in-the-same-neighborhood-as-humble opinion...dare I say it?...made it even better? I made Twitter friends because of this show. I crocheted Phil and Rita dolls and got to give them to Andy and Barrett. The closing notice hurt, and attending the final performance was one of my most bittersweet experiences, but it was worth it. This show was definitely a highlight of 2017. Six months and a day was not enough time, but I’m grateful for the time it had and I miss it every day. (For those of you wondering, I did not get through this paragraph without crying.)

Honorable mentions, also in no particular order:

Andrew Rannells’ and Stephanie J. Block’s Live From Lincoln Center concerts: An hour each, watching two of my favorite performers do solo shows that will later air on PBS was such a treat! Andrew’s set was completely full of songs I’d never heard him sing before, while Stephanie’s was a mix of new things and songs she’s known for. After hearing Stephanie sing “Some People” from Gypsy, I want her to play Rose one day. But first I want her to play Fanny Brice. Andrew is one of the only people who could make me cry by singing “Born To Run” by Bruce Springsteen (the others, of course, being the members of Toxic/Vox Audio). And he did.

Indecent: I almost made my list a top 11 so I could include it, but I insisted on having a round number. This was a powerful one-act play about making and producing God Of Vengeance, which was very controversial at the time because it was the 20th century and two women fell in love. Taking place during the Holocaust, the use of sand was very effective, and was probably both my favorite thing about it and the most difficult part to watch. It was my pick for Best Play this past season, and again, it deserved a longer run.

White Arab Problems: One of my friends from acting class wrote and performed a 45-minute comedy act about the struggles of being Arab but passing for white. In the piece, she humorously acknowledges the privileges that come with being white while also really dealing with the frustration of people thinking she’s trying to appropriate her own culture. I first met her in class in 2015 and recognized some insecurities that came across as ones I also have. Watching her grow over the years, seeing her perform this piece, and knowing she was proud of what she did made me a proud friend/classmate/scene partner, and I look forward to seeing it again whenever I can.

The Skivvies: Not much to elaborate on here, but I see as many of their concerts as I can, and it’s always a super fun time.

Prince Of Broadway: While this one was billed as a musical, it was technically a revue, which is why I didn’t put it on the official list. Watching a super talented cast of nine people perform songs and scenes from multiple Hal Prince shows definitely made for a great night! I went to the last preview, and I went again during the final week. I want Chuck Cooper to play Tevye, and I want Brandon Uranowitz to play Georg Nowack. And the Emcee. And Molina. And any other role he wants to play because he’s amazing.

So there’s my list. I’m kind of bummed that I didn’t include more plays, but hopefully next year. And with that, “ba da ba ba ba suck my balls, I’m out.”

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douchebagbrainwaves · 6 years

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SO THE CHEAPER YOUR COMPANY IS PROBABLY BASED IN THE WRONG CITY FOR DEVELOPING SOFTWARE

If you start a startup now, because the light is better there. So could we figure out what the best art is by taking a vote?1 If that were true, he would be right on target.2 I gave at the last Y Combinator dinner of the summer. An essay can go anywhere the writer wants. So all other things being equal, the best plan is to let as few things into your identity as possible. He called a maximally elegant proof one out of a new funding round we needed to stay alive.

There is no such thing as good art, but for those who make it often try to trick us.3 Matters are decided in the discussion preceding the vote, not in the vote itself, which is usually unanimous. They switch because it's a better browser.4 What made the options valuable, for the most part, is that it often looks better than real work.5 It may also be because if you do add that final increment of power, you can at least approach that by getting rid of the sources of error in your own country.6 That is one of the keys to retaining their monopoly. But suggesting efficiency is a different thing from actually being efficient. So the only way to find out would be to let that opportunity slip.7

But think about what's going on.8 The more your conclusions disagree with readers' present beliefs, the more effort you'll have to expend on selling your ideas rather than having them. And if you're worried about threats to the survival of your company, don't look for them in the first 5 minutes. The world market in programmers seems to be wired into us. What will they build next? But the unconscious form is very widespread. There were no fixed office hours.

It is now incorporated in Revenge of the Nerds.9 I think they increase when you face harder problems and also when you have to choose between ignoring him and ignoring an exponential curve.10 And even within the startup world, there has been a qualitative change in the last 50. The first thing I see when I walk out of the airline terminal is the fat, grumpy guy in charge of the taxi line. The basic idea behind office hours is that if you take a vote, all you're measuring is the error. This is a talk I gave at the last dinner; it's more of a party. The people still look healthy, and the essay will still survive. And yet have you ever seen a Google ad? We just don't hear about it usually, because to prove yourself right you have to fund startups that won't leave. Are there good universities nearby? When we first met the founders of Octopart, they seemed very smart, but not so wrong about the underlying principle. Exactly.11

For example, if you're a noob or a control freak for wanting such a thing as good art, in the sense that it sorted in order of how much money Yahoo would make from each link. This practice is not only common, but institutionalized. How well this scheme worked would depend on the city if it worked.12 Over time the two inevitably meet, but not so wrong about the specific companies, but they are still missing a few things. What we mean by a programming language is something we use to tell a computer what to do next, and the different parts of the company. In technical matters, you have to do. You may notice a certain similarity between the Viaweb and Y Combinator logos. That kind of title is the same sort of reflexive challenge as a whodunit.13 The way people act is just as bad, and b he has very strong opinions about it. If you get bored with, or can't understand, or don't agree with one point, no problem: it won't kill the essay. And so the average person expressing his opinions in a bar sounds like an idiot compared to a journalist writing about the subject. Inc self, i: self.

In 1970 a company president meant someone in his fifties, at least. Wufoo is on the same trajectory now. Or more precisely, new protocols that take off are. You smile and say pleased to meet you is just something you prepend to a conversation, but the Lisp that we actually ended up with was based on something separate that he did as a theoretical exercise—an effort to define a more convenient alternative to the Turing Machine. We did that as an inside joke when we started YC. There were not the same ways to get found online that there are today. Isn't it wiser, sometimes, not to hurt the rich. Since we did continuous releases, our software didn't actually have versions. Founders get less diluted, and it represents the opposite approach to language design.14 And so having a notion of good art, then people who liked it would have been in the mid 20th century is not because of some right turn the country took during the Reagan administration, but because it's stealing.

Notes

The original edition contained a few years.

4%, and at least 3 or 4 YC alumni who I believe, which made it over a hundred years ago, and the VCs want it to profitability before your initial funding runs out. It's a strange task to write an essay about why something isn't the problem to fit your solution.

Josh Wilson came in to pick a date, because the Depression was one of the anti-takeover laws, starting with the other hand, a valuation from an angel. They did turn out to coincide with other investors. Geoff Ralston reports that one of the medium of exchange would not be able to distinguish between gravity and acceleration.

Who knew how much time. When the Air Hits Your Brain, neurosurgeon Frank Vertosick recounts a conversation reaches a certain level of incivility, the more thoughtful people start to pull it off.

These two regions were the case in the twentieth century, art as brand split apart from art is not much to generalize. I'm not trying to capture the service revenue as well. If you have for a public company not to pay the most useless investors are: Windows 66. Oddly enough, maybe they'll listen to God.

Without the prospect of publication, the other hand, they say. Maybe that isn't what they'd like it that the path from ideas to startups has recently been getting smoother.

To talk to a later Demo Day by encouraging people to claim that they'll be able to distinguish between selecting a link and following it; all you'd need to raise money. Japan is prone to earthquakes, so much worse than Japanese car companies have been in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, Oxford University Press, 1996. And while this is to claim retroactively I said by definition if the VC knows you well, but the churn is high as well, partly because you can, Jeff Byun mentions one reason not to make money for other kinds of companies that grow slowly and never sell. This is what we do at least consider going into the intellectual sounding theory behind it.

39 says that I know what they claim was the capital which would be to go all the money, in Galbraith's words, it's not as hard as everyone assumes. The rest exist to this talk became Why Startups Condense in America consider acting white. They're an administrative convenience.

How can I make this miracle happen? What you're too busy to feel tired. I do in proper essays. The Price of Inequality.

Programming languages should be especially suspicious of grants whose purpose is some weakness in your plans, you better be sure you do if your goal is to carry a beeper? Considering yourself a scientist is equivalent to putting a sign in a rice cooker and forget about it.

Picking out the same advantages from it. How much better than their competitors, who adds the cost of having one founder take fundraising meetings is that everyone gets really good at acting that way. The most accurate mechanical watch, the growth rate to impress are not just a few data centers over the internet. This technique wouldn't work for startups that seem promising can usually get enough money from writing, he wrote a hilarious but also very informative essay about it.

A more powerful than ever. This was made a better source of difficulty here is one resource patent trolls need: lawyers.

Investors are often compared to what you write for your middle initial—because it consisted of 50 pairs that each summed to 101 100 1,2003. I've come to accept a particular valuation, that I didn't need to.

This includes mere conventions, like speculators, that I knew, there are those that have it as a kid.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Sam Altman, Anton van Straaten, Trevor Blackwell, Paul Buchheit, Robert Morris, Bob van der Zwaan essay, and Qasar Younis for the lulz.

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vileart · 7 years

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Todd & God and Dramaturgy: Richard Marsh @ Edfringe 2017

Richard Marsh and Liz Counsell present:

Todd & God

WORLD PREMIERE

Fringe First Award winner putting the mess into Messiah

Writer: Richard Marsh | Cast: Sara Hirsch & Richard Marsh | Dramaturg: Dan Coleman

Pleasance Dome, 10Dome,

2 - 28 August 2017 (not 15),

14.50 (16.00)

Poet, playwright and Fringe First winner Richard Marsh’s latest comic drama follows the West End success of Dirty Great Love Story. God’s rebooting religion to fix her mistakes (namely, wasps). For religion 2.0, she picks atheist Todd as her Chosen One. But how does Todd even begin to do good in a world where evil is riding so very high? And what does Todd’s wife make of his overnight conversion?

What was the inspiration for this performance?

I've been trying to work out how to write about religion for a long time. I began a few years back at Theatre 503, when I was a writer-in-residence there. I wrote a play about religion, quite liked it, didn’t like it enough, put it in a drawer.

This incarnation of the play began in 2015, on attachment at the Royal Court. I tried that version out at the Vault Festival in 2016, with some fantastic actors including Rebecca Scroggs and Sara Hirsch (who plays God in the current version of the show). I learned a lot, that the God/Todd relationship was very exciting, and the audience responded really well to it. I also learned that I had the wrong form for the play… It’s a really big story - God picks an atheist as her Chosen One - I needed to pare back the rest of the show to give that time to play out. So I cut most of the characters, and all the other actors, and began the version of the play that will come to Edinburgh.

The bigger question of why am I writing about religion is down to my granddad. I'm the grandson of a preacher man. I grew up with everything from family holidays to Christmas presents being fitted round God - a God that I slowly realized I didn’t believe in. But it was granddad’s job as well as his faith. I’ve always been fascinated with how the divine fits around family life, where the eternal meets the everyday.

And then politics happened… All my life, it looked like things were getting better. The Berlin Wall came down. Apartheid ended. Phones got smaller. But now - it’s an angry, angry world. It often feels things are so bad there’s nothing an individual can do. But if you felt you could do anything… if you had the backing of God… what changes would you make? Put my personal history and the political present together, you get Todd & God. A comedy tackling a huge subject in a heartfelt way.

Is performance still a good space for the public discussion of ideas?

I believe so, although that isn't my main motivation in writing or making a piece. I want to entertain people, and I want to tell a good story. I really want to make you laugh, and ideally make you cry at the same time.

I find I work out the subjects of my shows through writing them. I have a broad idea but the actual story I'm actually telling emerges in the process. I knew I wanted to write about religion, in an exciting and comic way - but how that story would be told crept up on me. The journey at the heart of it, the nature of the fundamental change at the heart of the play - all that was a surprise. I got that from the characters.

How did you become interested in making performance?

I always loved stories. I always loved TV and theatre. Always loved rhymes and songs. I wrote my first play due to rhyming. I’d always written greetings cards for my friends, just silly parroty rhymes like:

Happy birthday Gareth, my favourite Mr Vile

You're looking good (for someone who's been going quite a while).

- no offence, I hope!

There was a competition at university for half hour plays by freshers. I wrote a panto, because I thought pantos should rhyme and I loved rhymes. Cinderella and the Beanstalk. (A mash-up, ahead of its time).

I loved the process of putting it on, rehearsing, getting to know my fellow-students - and it won best comedy. That was me done. I was seduced by audience laughter. I've been a massive chuckleslut ever since.

Is there any particular approach to the making of the show? It's the first time I've been in Edinburgh doing a poetry play without playing a character called Richard! (For profound creative reasons, and also Richard doesn't rhyme with God).

Does the show fit with your usual productions?

Yes, in that it combines dialogue, storytelling, comedy and poetry to tell a story. But I try to use poetry differently in every show. I can't give away how it's used in Todd & God, but it's a new thing for me.

What do you hope that the audience will experience? If you've met me, you will know I am in almost every way like Russell Crow's character Maximus in the film Gladiator. "Are you not entertained?'

I do want to entertain people. I want to make them laugh, and I want them to be moved. And this play has certainly made me think a lot. It’s in part a reaction to my knee-jerk Dawkinsish evangelical atheist teenage self. That guy didn't know as much as he thought he did.

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience? I don't think I have strategies, at least not

consciously. I work very hard, I re-write my arse off, I try things in front of audiences (Sara and I do that together). And my director Dan Coleman has read A LOT of drafts…

…which doesn't really answer your question. The only thing I can think of which is almost a strategy is that, because the story might seem fantastical, I have tried to root it in the fine grain of everyday existence. I hope it feels true.

Move over Morgan Freeman – UK slam champion Sara Hirsch takes on the role of God. Will she succeed in her mission, or is this another Life of Brian? Questioning belief, hope and legacy, comic drama Todd & God asks what each of us would do if we were suddenly able to change the world. Richard Marsh said, “I’m the

grandson of a preacher man. I grew up with everything from family holidays to Christmas presents being fitted round God - a God that I slowly realized I didn’t believe in. And then politics happened…All my life, it looked like things were getting better. The Berlin Wall came down. Apartheid ended. Phones got smaller. But now - it’s an angry, angry world. It often feels things are so bad there’s nothing an individual can do. But if you felt you could do anything… if you had the backing of God… what changes would you make? Put my personal history and the political present together, you get Todd & God. A comedy tackling a huge subject in a hilarious and heartfelt way.” Richard Marsh co-wrote and co-performed Dirty Great Love Story with Katie Bonna, which won a Fringe First Award and transferred to the West End in January 2017. Following his BBC Audio Drama Award for Best Scripted Comedy for Love & Sweets, Radio 4 commissioned Richard to write and star in poetry sitcom Cardboard Heart alongside Russell Tovey, Jemima Rooper and Phil Daniels. Richard is a former London slam champion and began Todd & God on attachment at the Royal Court. Sara Hirsch is a former UK slam champion. As runner-up in the National Anti-Slam Final 2016, Sara has nearly been officially both the best and worst poet in the UK. Liz Counsell is producer for nabokov theatre as well as independent artists Cecilia Knapp and Vanessa Kisuule. She has previously produced for The Roundhouse and the BBC and is an alumni of the Fringe Society and British Council's Edinburgh Fringe Emerging Producers Programme. @richardbmarsh | #ToddAndGod | www.richmarsh.com

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#Theatre #Blogger #visual art #Edinburgh Fringe #Experimental Critique

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thotyssey · 7 years

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On Point With: Carmen Sidemi

This hilarious drama queen-turned-drag queen is taking over NYC nightlife one venue at a time. Dishing it all about her drag family and the pros and cons of everythingin the biz, it’s the fabulous Carmen Sidemi!

Thotyssey: Hey Carmen! How was Gay College Tuesday at the Ritz this past week? You guest performed while your mama Terra Hyman hosted. Carmen Sidemi: Oh! It was so much fun, We had two amazing DJs, Steve Sidewalk and Mikey Mó. I also never realized how hot The Ritz gogo boys are until last night -- definitely some serious eye candy. Of course, working with Terra Hyman, my drag mama, is always a kiki.

They are cute there on Tuesday nights! Like, the only twinky gogo boys left in NYC, it seems. I was thinking the same thing. Someone posted about how all the gogo boys are so big and muscly nowadays. So now, I can tell them where to find the sexy twinks. Though, if you know me, you know I LOOOVE a big set of arms and thick fingers. Lol, there's something for everyone in this city!

So Carmen, you're at that point in your drag career where you're starting to pop up everywhere.

Definitely, that’s what I love about NYC. It has certainly been a crazy year.

How long have you been Carmen now?

I've been doing drag since late July of 2016, and my original name was Shaneeda Blank. I changed it to Carmen Sidemi about 2-3 months after starting drag. In the beginning when I only saw your name on Facebook, I pronounced it "Suh-dem-ee," like you were some Polish deli or something. I laughed when I first heard it out loud. HAHAHA. Yes, I’ve gotten that before. I have so many great stories about people trying to pronounce my name. Sheila Tack gave up trying and just called me Barbara. And during the Invasion on Fire Island, the host announced me as Carmen Si-Demi. I milked it with a big laugh, mimed "Inside Me" as best I could, and she got it along with the crowd. It was a great moment.

That's the key to a great drag name!

I agree. I love when it takes people a second to get it.

So, where's you're hometown, and what were you like growing up? Oh, man! Well I'm a Florida native, born in Pembroke Pines, and I grew up in South Beach until we re-located back P. Pines in my early teens.

Growing up, I was -- and still am -- very dramatic. About halfway through awards shows, I start pretending like I won and end up sobbing in the mirror, giving full acceptance speech realness. My bedroom was a place where I could be myself and live my fantasy!

In school I loved attention, but was always battling with that because at the same time I didn't want to be noticed -- people made fun of me for being feminine. It felt like a constant game of tug and war.

However, I have to say I was so lucky because my parents and family loved and supported me always. I also had/have two childhood friends that are still so amazing. That's important, I'm glad for that!

When do you come to NYC? 2009, when I went to the one and only AMDA. I left for a year and a half after graduation for some theatre work, and then moved back in 2013. All of that feels so long ago, OMG! Every drag queen in the city went to that school, it's crazy! Do you know any queens on the scene today that were in your classes? She's a newer queen: Chola Spears. We were best friends in school. We lost touch, but then I saw her out one night in drag and we are living.

I didn't go to school with Marti Gould Cummings, but I remember during orientation seeing her picture on the alumni wall with some of the greats that came out of the school. So crazy how things come full circle.

How did you meet Mama Terra?

Oh god, that was the beginning of it all, I feel like. I work at the West End, and when I started there a few years ago they had such a great lineup of amazing girls! Terra was hosting a competition, Brita and Sasha Davenport were hosting "C'mon Wednesday," and Alexis Michelle and Schwa de Vivre were hosting "Super Woman." Terra and I quickly became besties, and would hang out all the time at her place and play video games and Catan till 4am. That group of girls really introduced me to NYC drag/nightlife and made a huge impact. From there, I met Jasmine Rice LaBeija from the RRRRRRoyal Haus of Labeija, and she really took me under her wing and helped me SO MUCH! That's a great pedigree! What was your first number in drag, do you remember? I actually still use it sometimes, It was a "Letter of the Day" inspired number, and the letter of the day was “C.” Then it goes into basically calling everyone a cunt.

youtube

Oh werk, so you had the funny mixes on day one!

I love working and making mixes, and telling a story from my own perspective, if you will.

You're quite a high energy queen, splitting and death-dropping and constantly moving... were you always a dancer?

I can just see the eye rolls from these shady queens in regards to me being called a dancer. People use the word "dancer" very loosely, in my opinion... no shade.

I did always love to dance; I took about four years of salsa in middle/high school before getting into tap, ballet, etc. But I'm very humble when it comes to calling myself a "dancer" because it's not something I do often, lol! But I will split the house down for sure, henny!

You did a great number for Miss Lady Liberty this summer... it had, like, five wig and costume reveals! I always think about how stressful it must be to keep track of the timing of all those reveals during numbers like that. Not to mention having to waddle out there in the beginning like a human lasagna with all that shit bolted down so it doesn’t look like five reveals! GIRL! I had HAD IT that day. I was being such a bitch because I was so hot, and no one understood because I was trying not to spoil it. As far as timing: the song I used was pretty easy to find the timing, so it just made sense to me. It also helps to rehearse the costume and wig reveals at home couple times. I do love watching those videos; my ass looked so good that night, lol! Th next time I did Lady Liberty, I decided I wasn't going to put too much pressure on myself and just do something simple. It was actually one of my favorite performances. Of course I did do a costume reveal!

Sometimes it just takes one reveal to sell it! I like the light blue flowy, witchy robe thing you wear. Are you a designer/seamstress of your looks? HAHAHA. Oh, My summer Poncho? I bought that fabric in every color. I can draw clothes, and can sew basic things, but I'm certainly not a seamstress. I learned a few things from a costume designer in Florida, and even MORE from Jasmine Rice... YouTube helps too! Every drag queen knows, or should know, stretch fabric. Here that, queens! Generally speaking, I feel like you are a like a drag queen’s drag queen. A lot of other queens in the city are really into what you do!

I wanna shout out to some people who have excepted me so open-heartedly to the drag community, and taught me so much! They were booking me when I had no experience! Terra Hyman, Jasmine Rice, Lola Michele-Kiki, Dusty Ray Bottoms, Marti G. Cummings, Brita Filter, Ari Kiki, Tammy Spanx, and Kizha Carr. I'm so grateful to know these talented people.

An amazing group of queens!

Did you go to Drag Con?

I DID! My very first one. I went on Sunday and was so lucky to get to work the Gypsy Wigz booth. They styled a beautiful custom-dyed wig for me, and I just pranced around enjoying all the drag. My best moment was eating a chili dog while walking the pink carpet. If anyone thought I didn't have talent, now you do.

Yas Mama! So, it's about that time of the season when local girls start to disappear on a Mystery Cruise, while by sheer coincidence Drag Race starts filming in California. It seems like throughout the past few seasons, there have been more and more New York girls disappearing... and if our collective hunch is correct, nearly half of Season 10 will be New York queens competing. And on top of that, now we're gonna have a new show to watch exclusively about NYC drag, Shade! Is this an exciting time to be a queen in NYC, or is this all kind of a lot? I can't F******* wait for this season! I definitely think right now is an exciting time for drag in many places, but especially NYC. I'm so excited to see so many girls I know, work with, and respect on Shade. It’s really going to get to showcase what queens really experience when choosing this as a career.

It's funny, I always hear people say "Drag Race fucked up drag,” and I can understand that perspective. But we also get to see so many new shows pop up to make up for the girls who might have other things going on.

Well, you certainly got stuff going on that we should talk about! First off, you've been giving shows at Icon in Astoria for a bit, and now you have a Weekly 6-9pm Sunday spot there, Stay Drunk Sundays. Love that show name! How do you like it at Icon? It went through a change of management and a huge revamp not too long ago.

I love Icon. The staff and the owners have been so generous to me, I'm so grateful. I heard about a few horror stories from the past, which I won't dwell on because no one involved has any ties to the place, so all I'm gonna say is: come back and give it another try. Especially Sunday! How many chances do you get to go out after a boozy brunch, put on some heels that we provide, do at least 30 seconds of a number, and you get a shot? It's such a good time. Two weeks ago, a straight man and woman celebrating their engagement with some friends came by, and THEY ALL did a Spice Girls number. I've had a few new queens pop in to do a number. It really is such a safe space for everyone. Oh, and they have 2-4-1 drink special from 5-8!

And your show there sounds like a lot of fun. As for Thursdays, we can find you hosting Gayme Night at Atlas Social Club with Scotty Em.

Yup, I just added Gayme Night on Thursdays to my weekly schedule. We finally got rid of that bitch, Holly Box-Springs. LMAO, I’m just kidding! To spill some tea, we actually went on two dates before either of us did drag. I love that girl.

But back to Atlas, I'm there Thursdays for trivia and all sorts of games, 8-12. We give away drinks, special prizes, and JUST added a few gogo boys to serve up trade realness. I'm thinking of new ways to make it my own; I want to have a Twister tournament one night! That would be fun! Another drag Holly, Ms. Dae, used to host "naked" Twister at Phoenix!

OMG! I love her, she has one of the BEST senses of humor.

Okay, anything else?

No special events, other than my two weekly gigs I have right now. A few things are up in the air. It’s funny, I like to call myself the "Sandra Bullock of Drag," because a lot of my gigs are super last-minute bookings if someone can't make it! Which, girl, I’m grateful for! So, I would encourage following me on Instagram or adding me on Facebook to keep up with where I'll be. Last question: What's the worst thing about drag for you, and what's the best? The worst part of actually being in drag is, sometimes, the corset after three hours. But I would say that really the hard part -- and this is gonna sound cheesy -- is battling with myself to not compare what other people have going on, and just be proud of my friends AND myself.

It's hard sometimes, because its rare when you work in a field where your friends are your colleagues. When we aren't in drag and go out, most likely I'm kiki'ing with other queens. But a lot of the times, we are competing [in pageants or weekly competitions] for cash money. So you’re rooting for your friends, but trying to pay your damn rent.

The best part about drag, and why I started doing it... simple. I get to conceive performances that tell a story from my perspective. I get to do it on my own time, on my own terms. And when people laugh and cheer, it makes me so happy. I feel understood. A few times the audience will be enjoying a number so much, it will make me hesitate on my next line, because I get so excited.

But we've all had those nights when the audience is looking at you like your fucking crazy, which is also exciting because its an opportunity to make new choices that you wouldn't have made otherwise.

Thank you, Carmen! Awesome! Thanks so much for having me on your blog!

Carmen Sidemi hosts “Stay Drunk Sundays” at Icon (6pm) and “Gayme Night Thursdays” at Atlas Social Club (8pm). Check Thotyssey’s calendar for other upcoming gigs, and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

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