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shadowen · 4 months

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I'm thinking, once again, about the Star Wars sequel trilogy and the incredible wasted potential of the characters. Specifically, I'm thinking about Rey and Poe as foils against Phasma and Hux.

Here, we have two men who were raised from birth as true believers in opposing causes, the only sons of heroes, who then far surpassed their parents in fame and influence. There are some hints of contrast, in that we see the stark differences in how they lead, but the films are almost maliciously committed to misunderstanding Poe as a character*, that I have to assume those moments are purely accidental.

Then there's Rey and Phasma, two women from baren, brutal worlds, with a single name and no legacy**, who survive and succeed based entirely on raw talent and relentless determination. Phasma is nominally set up as a contrast for Finn, but she ends up being an unsatisfying personal villain. Likewise, Rey is set in opposition to Kylo Ren, but that whole dynamic is so messy and loaded, without exploring any of the meaningful parallels and conflicts between them***.

There's also something to be said about contrasting sibling dynamics. With Rey and Poe, we get glimpses of a squabbling rivalry rooted in obvious affection, whereas Phasma and Hux are shown (in EU material) to have a conspiratorial closeness based on mutual respect and mutually assured destruction. Neither of these relationships is developed to full potential or used to develop the narrative or themes of the films.

The reliance on external knowledge to prop up the core films is a long-standing critique of Star Wars, and I wholeheartedly agree that the movies should be able to stand on their own. However, given the volume and emphasis on the extended universe, it's reasonable to expect at least some degree of consistency. In the case of these characters and others, though, the most interesting character development is either jarringly ignored or deliberately removed, as with a scene cut from The Last Jedi which tells more about Phasma in two minutes than the rest of her screen time combined. There's plenty of discussion to be had about what's actually in the films, but I think the great tragedy of the sequel trilogy is what could have been there and isn't.

Footnotes and reading recs under the cut.

*My rant on this subject is long, detailed, and mostly about racism.

**I think Rey is a much more interesting character if she is actually nobody from nowhere, but that's a different discussion.

***This is not about ship vs notp, just about how their on-screen interactions fit into the narrative.

The Star Wars EU is daunting, to say the least. If you want to read more about these characters, may I suggest:

Phasma (novel) by Delilah S. Dawson (my all time fav SW novel)

Poe Dameron (comics series) by Charles Soule and Phil Noto

Captain Phasma #1-4 (comic) by Kelly Thompson and Marco Checchetto

Resistance Reborn (novel) by Rebecca Roanhorse

Before the Awakening (short stories) by Greg Rucka

Shattered Empire #1-4 (comic) by Greg Rucka and Marco Checchetto

Age of Resistance (comics anthology) by Tom Taylor et al

#star wars #shadowen consumes media #accidental example of a 5 paragraph essay #rey #poe dameron #captain phasma #armitage hux

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sparring-spirals · 2 years

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Orym saying: You deserve to be more than a footnote in Delilah's story.

Orym saying: There are people here who need you.

Orym saying, they need her dark, and her light.

Orym saying: They don't leave anyone behind.

Orym druidcrafting poppies onto her.

#ORYMMMMM #critical role #cr spoilers #c3e38 #cr liveblogging #scene #orym #laudrym #IM BEING LIAM OBRIENED

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lespetitesmortsde · 6 months

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break my little imodna heart?

Great timing anon, because I was in the midst of this little pile of trauma when your ask came in. Death, abandonment, angst, etc. Post-resurrection.

You could read on AO3 if you prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51497527

Anchor

She wakes up with her head in Imogen’s lap, Imogen’s fingers combing through her hair as she jolts up from a sharp crack across her cheek.

She wakes up and there’s a gnome-looking lady with white hair and a scar across one eye leaning over her, studying her. The gnome pulls back, but her brow remains furrowed.

She wakes up and FCG’s voice is incredibly loud in her ears. “Laudna! You’re back!” and he sounds thrilled, exuberant, and she’s filled with confusion. Her eyes dart around the room and there’s someone pretty who looks like they might be familiar, wielding a bow and aiming an arrow straight at her.

FCG draws her attention back to them, “Are you back? Are you okay?”

Quieter, moving from behind her to beside her, Imogen asks, “Is it you?”

There is not enough time to think no space to breathe there isn’t – Is it you? Or is it –

Chetney jumps in, “Say something only Laudna would know, quick!”

She looks at Chet and struggles to say something, for her vocal chords to rub, for the air to pass through them. She looks over at Orym and then back to Chetney.

Rocking back and forth on his wheel, FCG frets, “Uh-oh, she can’t speak?”

And finally, finally, her voice works mostly like it’s supposed to. It comes out weaker, wispier, and so much rougher than she recalls it being for a long, long time. “I don’t…” she looks around before settling her gaze on Imogen. “Have you found anything else out about your mom?”

It feels like the room collectively lets out a strained breath.

She’s introduced to the strangers treating her like a bomb with an unknown timer. When the gnome says it’s just her, that Delilah isn’t around anymore, Imogen lets out the most relieved sigh. But she’s not so sure that getting rid of Delilah could be that easy. And despite Imogen’s assurances, she doesn’t trust these people, not the ones she was sacrificed for.

She wakes up and she is groggy for most of the day, feels more dead than she usually does, floats around on auto-pilot, made easier when she’s holding Imogen’s hand.

It’s getting harder to hold Imogen’s hand. Oh, Imogen is there and treats her gently when she’s within reach, but there’s a distance between them now. She can feel it in her shadow, creeping up through her boots, when Imogen moves away and lets others come between them.

Her attention feels foreign, translucent. She can focus on the conversation for a couple of minutes at a time, even contribute a little, but she loses the time and space in between. One moment they’re in the house she woke up in. The next they’re out on the street. Then she’s in the castle. They’re going to eat.

It’s like she blinks and–

She wakes up and there’s potato soup in front of her. The others purposefully left the spot beside her for Imogen, but even though she feels delirious, like reality — if this even is reality — bends in waves around her, she knows Imogen like no one else does. She knows that her friend, her best friend, first looked for any other seat than the one beside her.

And her heart breaks when Imogen finally sinks into the chair, accepting her fate.

She’s pretty sure it doesn’t happen in real-life, that it’s the echoes of her resurrection, but every so often she hears Orym’s voice around the periphery. You deserve to be more than a footnote in Delilah’s story.

Please. Come back.

There are people here who need you.

And they’re lovely words, truly, she would love for them to be real, to be honest, to be truthful.

But the only person who ever came close to needing her, and doesn’t actually need her at all, can’t wait to get away from her.

She’s left wondering what the point of it all was. They wasted precious time coming after her, fighting off Delilah, traipsing around the horrors of her mind, boxes open and emptied. They used up precious favours for someone who will only hold them back.

She was already dead.

Why is she back?

She doesn’t have an answer and she doubts any of the rest of them have much of one either.

She wakes up and she doesn’t know why.

Lady Vex’ahlia gives her a ring, says it will protect her, but she can’t help wondering what for? Everyone has already put far too much effort into getting her undead again. But Orym tells her to take it and his words calling her back to the land of the living drift back through her head, so she slips it on her finger.

The weight is different from the ring Imogen gave her. Maybe she’ll need to give Imogen’s back, even though she loves it and she’ll miss being able to look at it and touch it.

Maybe this ring will help her bear the loss of the other one.

The group is getting ready to go to bed in the castle and she’s fine with that, she wants them to have a comfortable night. But she can’t. She can’t do that. No matter what all they’ve done for her, she can’t do that.

She’ll spend her night alone. Try to get her thoughts into some sort of cohesive thing. Maybe in the morning she can be who they remember her to be. Maybe in the morning, they will say goodbye and they will leave her behind now that they recognise how weak she is, how much of an anchor she is, dragging them down, down, down to depths unknown.

At some point, Imogen tries reassuring her that they’d do it again, that it wasn’t a big deal, that she’s not a nuisance. Imogen even says she missed her. So much.

Her traitorous little heart sinks its talons into that too deeply, pulls it too sharply into her chest.

When the time comes, it will hurt to remove it, like bisecting her heart and plucking it right out from her ribcage.

She tells them to have a restful night, that she’s going to go sleep by the Sun Tree. Wants to let some of the hope and healing seep into her bones from its roots.

She wakes up and there are fancy sheets strewn along the ground and the whole lot of them are sprawled across them underneath the tree. Fearne is cuddling Orym. Imogen, maybe because she was once more pushed into her old normal place by everyone else, is beside her. Imogen’s head is on her shoulder.

Maybe she didn’t want to be alone, after all. Maybe it’ll take more than one night to wrestle her thoughts and her mind back to the land of the living.

Maybe she can have this one indulgence as a departing gift.

She is exhausted, but she lies awake long past when everyone else falls asleep. Her heart thuds sluggishly in her chest.

Imogen against her is a comfort, one she does not deserve, of course, never has, but in the last thirty-odd years, she’s learned to take the rare good things when they come along. Not to ask questions. And the last two years have been great. They’ve been the best.

When she is left behind, reliving those two years will sustain her for decades, if not more than that. She can live a week, a month, inside each step they’ve walked together.

She could live a year within the confrontation between Imogen and Delilah in the tree, could go without food if only there’s the echo of Imogen shouting out, “Delilah Briarwood, we’re going to sunder you.”

That all means so much. Imogen was so angry. She glances down at Imogen now, eyes closed, the tiredness more apparent in sleep than when awake. She hopes Imogen rests well.

Orym’s voice and Orym’s voice alone once more ripples through her head.

She wakes up from being dead and the only question that haunts her is why didn’t Imogen try to bring her back.

#lespetitesmortsde #ask #imodna #southern gothic #cr fic #my fic #laudna #anchor #critical role #imogen temult #imodna fic

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annemarieyeretzian · 2 years

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orym saying “laudna, I know I don’t know you any better than the rest of the gang, but I know your history. you deserve to be more than a footnote in delilah’s story. there are people here who need you. they need your life and your heart. I don’t know what bell’s hells will be without your darkness, laudna. or your light. please. we don't want to leave anyone behind... please. come back.”

#the desperation as he says her name #the two pleases #begging her to come back #feeling the full weight of guilt that he's alive and she's dead #I can't be normal about this halfling #annemarie watches critical role #critical role #orym of the air ashari #orym #laudna #bell's hells #a dark balance #c3e38

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12pt-times-new-roman · 2 years

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c3e38

The connection between Delilah and Laudna is diminished, not gone.

"She means a lot to you, right?" "...she means everything."

In theory, the final roll for this resurrection ritual should be 1d20 + 5, since Pike has to make the final check and her wisdom is +5. If Laudna's DC is 11, and if all the contributions are successful, that puts the DC at 2.

......oh. Matt is implying that this resurrection ritual will succeed no matter what, but if the check fails, Delilah will come back, not Laudna.

Pike is casting this ritual with dispel evil built into the resurrection! That's what the powdered silver is for :)

Orym's contribution: "Laudna. I know I don't know you any better than the rest of us, but I know your history. You deserve to be more than a footnote in Delilah's story. There are people here who need you. They need your life and your heart. I don't know what Bells Hells will be without your darkness, Laudna. Or your light. Please, we don't want to leave anyone behind. Least of all you. We gotta get that blood flowing through your veins again. Please, come back." Red poppies bloom through Laudna's black hair. Nature check: 11, against a DC of 10.

FCG's contribution: "Laudna, you might not have been perfect, but you loved and you loved, Escargot and Sashimi, and you loved Imogen, and I've always been told that a soul that loves at least touches perfection. You once said to me that the worst thing that ever happened to you has already happened, and now I can say that the worst thing that ever has happened to us has already happened. With you not here, it's really scary, and not the fun kind. Pike said that you might not want to come back, so I'm afraid we can't let you do that." They cast compulsion on her to compel Laudna to come back. Intimidation check: natural 1.

Imogen's contribution: "You know you saved my life, right? If you hadn't come to town when you did, I don't know how long I would've lasted. These last few years have been everything. Through it all, through all the laughter and all the hardships, she was with you. She was choking you. If you come back, I don't know how you're gonna feel, I don't know if you'll feel free or if you'll feel empty. But I want you to know, whatever hole she's leaving, I'll be there to help fill it, alright? I'll be there for you. I'm not gonna tel you to come back, I'm not gonna try to compel you to come back, because that choice, Laudna, is yours now. No one gets to control you anymore, alright? Just know that I love you. And I'm here." She puts Pate on Laudna's chest. Persuasion check: 7.

Pike makes the final caster check.

"A moment passes. In that stillness, you hear Pike exhale. 'Come on, come on.' Vex leans forward. 'Pike, did it—' 'I don't—' She leans forward and places her hand over Laudna's mouth, nose. 'Is she a real shallow breather?' She slaps the side of Laudna's face, and Laudna jolts awake."

Laudna's DC started at 12, went to 9, then went up to 11. Pike rolled a 16.

she's sitting next to Imogen!!!

"I remember hearing you, I remember seeing you— all of you. I remember all of it."

There's no apparent visual/physical change. From a passing detect thoughts, FCG gets "a flip book of all the memories she was reliving and going through. Confusion. Terror. Frustration. Regression. A little lost."

Percy had five dozen riflemen and fifty pale guard surrounding the house, plus himself up on a platform with some "perfected" version of Bad News.

Pike used raise dead, so Laudna has -4 to every ability check, attack roll, and saving throw. The penalty reduces by 1 after each long rest.

Hollow Ones count as undead for the purposes of hunter's bane.

"It feels like a dream, this one's just not a nightmare... are you sure this isn't one of her tricks?" "I promise."

oh the sweet, sweet parallels between Laudna and Percy.... Laudna knowing that these children will never know anything different than a Whitestone that is beautiful, alive, colorful, and Percy fighting tooth and nail to ensure it.

Laudna's form of dread no longer has a mourning veil; it cracks and crumbles away, it falls like the leaves fall from the Sun Tree. Branches start sprouting from her shoulders as she leans against the tree-- almost an entire lifecycle, years' worth of seasons as the branches bloom, wither, then fall.

did Laudna just take the Sun Tree as her patron?? form of dread is a warlock ability so???

"Have you felt it? The tree? It's warm... Lady Vex'halia, Imogen, you should feel it too."

"Miss Trickfoot, may I give you a hug?" FEARNE

Well, she tried. but Pike's passive wisdom is 21 — meaning both passive perception and insight.

Laudna took pact of the chain!

it gives her the ability to cast find familiar, and lets her familiar take additional forms. because he can fly and speak Common, he's using the stat block of either an imp or a sprite, but I'm guessing he's an imp.

FCG and Zerxus have equal and opposite brands of hubris based in the "I can fix him" mentality

Fearne got a gun for Mister. from the man who invented firearms. that's more or less a tiny potato cannon.

Whitestone has been aware of missing residuum shipments for some time, but the care that was taken to keep them enshrouded was extensive. Threads led them eastward, and they believed the involvement came from Wildemount. Percy thinks the Assembly are a "messy" organization to confront, and had hoped that they weren't involved.

As for the solstice— the Apogee Solstice is a once in a (human) lifetime thing that tends to draw out "the best and the worst of Exandrian society." Anyone with an interest in cheating their way into a better position through magic will be trying their damndest to achieve things normally unheard of or impossible.

and on Ruidus— Percy sketches the pattern of the Divine Gate, which has a design to it, "something that looks like a kaleidoscope, a fractal pattern within the lattice that spirals around." It looks very similar to the lattice around Ruidus. "The Divine Gate is one continuous entity, a barrier. It's hard to describe; it's a boundary that exists between these dimensions, but it's not a thin sheet, it's a bit more esoteric. It only exists in the spaces between dimensions, and only exists around Exandria."

They have contacts in Vasselheim who can look into this and try to connect the dots, but again, a lot of things are happening in a lot of places very quickly.

that's a lot. so is Ruidus the "gate" part of the Divine Gate, the lock that's holding the door closed? if it's appearing in the Feywild, does it still have this lattice while it's there? and if it doesn't, then was Imogen seeing the lattice just a result of looking through the lattice around Exandria, not actually a lattice around Ruidus?

Vex gives Laudna a ring of protection!

aw Marisha moved back

MOON DREAM MOON DREAM

and FCG has share dream up

FCG's spells come from the arcane weave?

Imogen finds herself "standing in the same grass field, the same childhood open field that the dreams continue to start in, but there isn't green, there isn't your horse. The red storm is already around you... you can see the faint outline of FCG joining you in this dream... you see, ahead of you, a shadowed shape that just moves away and vanishes into the dust, away from you. You step closer and closer, and you can see, it's a broader shape. Not the thin, familiar feminine warrior body that you faced off with in Bassuras. This is more of a masculine warrior's outline. It's hard to make out the specifics, but you see the walking figure stop and glance over its shoulder for just a moment, and then it's gone. (It had similarities to when Bertrand and the twins walked away.) You keep walking forward, and the wind gets stronger and stronger, the grasses of the field giving way to dirt and broken rock... You've acknowledged in this space that spellcraft has no effect, but the will of your mind influences the journey you take. The storm continues to grow colder and darker, until eventually the vibrant red becomes a deep, dark maroon. As the wind begins to die, the space above you begins to thin. Where the dust dies down, instead, you see a dark voided scape filled with thousands and thousands of stars. You glance up, and the stars begin to blink out, until within a few moments inky blackness sits above you both. The storm subsides and you put your consciousness back down to where you're standing, but there's nothing there. Lightless space beneath you, around you, until you can't even see each other. In that moment, all you have is the physical sense of your hands holding together, you feel yourself being pulled away until your grip finally gives, and you both come to consciousness in the morning."

Fearne talks to the Sun Tree! [Can you open a door?]

"Eyyy Fearne. I mean. People make doors outta trees, we don't do it ourselves. But you figure it out, you know where I am... [How long have you been here?] Oh, a looong time. [Did you ever notice when they put up a new moon?] No, s'long as I've been here, there's always been two. [Are you excited for the solstice?] I guess a little. It's interesting, and makes me feel all tingly."

Sending to Eshteross: "Are you alive still? I had a dream." No response.

Chetney's gift to Imogen is a big movable wind-up horse! it's very pretty.

"Gilmore's Glorious Goods: Whitestone Expansion"!!

The guy working the shop at the moment (Gilmore is in Emon) is apparently very skilled at carving wood. He enchanted a little wooden gryphon to fly. And I mention this because Chetney looks very suspicious of him.

FCG has run off to the temple of the Changebringer. "I'm drawn to [this coin]... it's little and it's metal, but it has a purpose... I'm thinking more about what my purpose is, and I'm wondering if you have any insight, or if she might... I guess I'm just wondering how to talk to her."

FCG speaks toward the Changebringer. "I don't know if you can hear me, and I don't know if you can speak, but I'll be listening, and I'll be waiting, and I guess I'll be hoping for you to... just let me know that you're there. I guess that's the first step. I don't need anything more than that just to know that someone out there knows who I am and that I exist."

We're back in Jrusar!

Another sending to Eshteross: "Eshteross? Tell me you were just sleeping earlier. Are you there? Wake up!" Nothing.

Eshteross' estate is covered in blood and sprung traps.

At the base of the bed, there is a "humanoid body, face down, reaching underneath. A familiar maroon-patterned robe." Chetney goes in and smells "blood, but it feels a little off." Getting close, the body is riddled with wounds — gash marks, fine slashes, the robe is barely held together.

"The smell of blood is strong, but it... it smells off. It's hard to describe. You're very familiar with the blood of humanoid creatures, and there's something off about it. The other thing you smell is the smell of blood you've tasted before. There's the faintest smell, a sage or an oil, that is distinctly Otohan that just barely lingers — barely."

Beneath the bed, where Eshteross was reaching, is an iron lockbox. Chet fails to pick the lock on it.

Yeah. No pulse. This is one of those situations like the Nicodranas vs. Felderwin thing in C2, where if the M9 went to Felderwin instead of Nicodranas they would've been there when the town was attacked, right? They went to Whitestone instead of staying in Bassuras, and Eshteross is dead because of it.

In Eshteross' pocket, Chet finds a bunch of different keys on a ring, presumably for different things in the house.

Inside the box is a cluster of envelopes. Sealed letters, all with names. Evelyn Ress. Lex Emnar. Chief Wilder Neimenoros. Ajit Dyal. Orlana Shishadri. Menaia Trei. Bells Hells.

The letter to Bells Hells—

Travis is reading this way too fast for me to transcribe ;-;

There's something in there about fate and people who bend history to their wills?

In essence, it's a final will and testament. Eshteross knows he was living on borrowed time, and thanked the Hells for their time. He gave them his cookie recipe, the blade in his cane (named Turmoil), and the ownership of the Silver Sun, along with a year's worth its crew's time.

They finally have a sky ship!!!

From the blood on the cane, Orym identifies that odd smell as the same type of poison that affected Will and Derrig, that "locks away" any chance of resurrection.

Hold up. If Eshteross is dead and Imogen saw him walking into the storm the night that he died, the same way she saw Bertrand...... what does that say about the Lumas twins? She saw them weeks after they (supposedly?) died.

#critical role #note watches c3 #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog

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smilelikeawolf · 2 years

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Laudna’s Resurrection

Pike: “Laudna, wherever you are, come back. Come back to your family.”

Orym: “Launda, I know I don’t know you any better than the rest of the gang, but I know your history. You deserve to be more than a footnote in Delilah’s story. Your people here need you. We need your life and your heart. I don’t know what Bel’s Hell’s will be without your darkness, Laudna, or your light. Please... we don’t want to leave anyone behind. Please, we gotta get that blood flowing through your veins again. Please, come back.”

Orym trails his hand through LAudna’s hair. Red poppies bloom in her black hair, framing her face.

(Orym rolls a success)

FCG takes her hand while holding the Changebringer coin.

FCG: “Laudna, you might not be perfect, but you loves and you loved Escargot and Sashimi, and you loved Imogen. And I’ve always been told that a soul that loves at least touches perfection. You said the worst thing that’s happened to you has already happened. The worst thing that’s happened to us has already happened. You’re not here and it’s scary, and not the fun kind. Pike said you might not want to come back, and we can’t let that happen.”

FCG casts Compel on Laudna to compel her spirit back.

(Nat1 fails the roll).

Imogen touches FCG.

Imogen: “Can I?”

FCG lets go. Imogen stands behind Laudna and brushes her forehead.

Imogen: “You know you saved my life, right? You ain’t coming to town when you did, I don’t know how long I would’ve lasted. These last few years have been, they’ve been everything. Through it all, through all the laughter and the hardships... she was with you. She was choking you. If you come back... I don’t know how you’re gonna feel. I don’t know if you’ll feel free or if you’ll feel empty. But I want you to know whatever... whatever hole she’s leaving, I’ll be there to help fill it. Alright? I’ll be there for you. I’m not gonna tell you to come back, I’m not gonna try to compel you to come back because that choice is yours now, Laudna! No one gets to control you anymore. Just know that I love you, and I’m here.”

Imogen places Pate on her chest.

(Imogen rolls a seven and fails the roll.)

Pike’s hair drifts up by her shoulders as she lifts from the ground. The sigils on the floor light up. Laudna’s dark hair lifts up. Pike places her hand on her chest and the light goes dark as they drift back to the ground.

A moment passes. In that stillness, Pike exhales.

Pike: “C’mon. C’mon.”

Vex leans forward.

Vex: “Pike, did it work?”

Pike places her hand over Laudna’s nose and mouth.

Pike: “Is she a real shallow breather?”

Imogen: “Oh, shit, she doesn’t breathe at all!”

Pike slaps Laudna across the face. Laudna sits upright with a jolt.

FCG: “Laudna, you’re back! Are you back?”

Chetney: “Say only something Laudna would know!”

Laudna: “I... I...”

Laudna looks at Imogen.

Laudna: “Did you find anything else about your mom?”

Imogen sobs and hugs her tightly.

#*cries*#laudna #imogen temult #orym #fresh cut grass #chetney pock o'pea #bell's hells #pike trickfoot #vex'ahlia #cr3 #critical role #cr spoilers

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scriptmyworld · 2 years

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you deserve to be more than a footnote in delilah’s story…other people here need you…they need your life, and your heart.

please, we don’t wanna leave anyone else behind.

#ORYMMMMMM #critical role #cr spoilers #cr liveblog #orym of the air ashari

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nochi-quinn · 2 years

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campaign 3 episode 38: dice burning party in the parking lot

let's see if I can stay awake this week! 8D

oh matt's gonna be the death of me

"the moment you've all been waiting for" don't speak for me

"my mutant superpower is not knowing what I'm doing" same

I genuinely cannot judge how good or bad matt's accent is, I don't think I've ever heard a good non-native version

excited to see how much of these costumes survive to the end of the episode

especially the gloves, those aren't lasting (or maybe I have second-hand sensory hell)

pike's voice with the gambit eyes sdlkfjsl

matt u should have oiled ur coat

"I'm pretty good at what I do" baking?

alright "what happens if laudna breaks away from delilah" betting pool get ready

I'm gonna cryyyyy

SAM

she does have a pretty good track record, doesn't she

YUP there went the visor off liam

aaand travis' mask

"you deserve to be more than a footnote in delilah's story"

sam

I would have prefered ashton but here we are

"and you loved imogen" sam with the shipper stick

I'm. not okay with this.

sam's characters have a running thread of mental manipulation and I've been cooling on fcg for a while bc of the Enforced Therapy aspect (I don't love the bonded character mechanic either) and just. hnrgh.

I wrote that before the nat 1, too, I just Dislike

[holds a knife on anyone trying to make a joke about laudna's holes]

yeah, LETTERS

ah hell

klsdjflsk

PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE

gonna fight matt in a parking lot

CRIES

bonus content for any jean/rogue shippers

vex: get fenthras'd, idiot

oh poor laudna she doesn't know any of these people :(

skdjfslkd trying to use the tablet with the gloves

chetney: GOD WOOD???

o. oh.

chetney

travis

PIKE

"you were just Dead"

you are not immune to vex'ahlia de rolo

percival

calm your SHIT percy jesus christ

lays in the floor

I see you wiping your face travis

TREE

would laudna have been one of the ones that thought percy abandoned them or was she too young to have Opinions

or would she have like. heard stuff from her parents. I know what I'm trying to say

"fight with obann" wrong campaign matt

"this gets to be real now" lays in the floor harder

she just starts whaling on the tree

crIES

this child for new party member

"there are kids who are never gonna know" I AM ALREADY CRYING YOU CAN STOP NOW

let laudna talk to the tree

THIS WORKS TOO

laudna 🤝 keyleth

tree aesthetic

I'm gonna stuff this man in a locker istg

I love her

A Keyleth Thing

keyleth is canonically their crunchy granola friend

group hug at the sun tree

chetney

sun tree: consent please

DO IT

orym: it's weird, none of us really understand

percy we will make you admit you love your friends if it kills all of us

percy: they're YOUR guests

laura and marisha are killing me

orym is likking me

FEARNE DO NOT PICKPOCKET THE CLERIC

they get chased out of whitestone and have to wait three in-game days to go back

…I just remembered Pike's cousins, this is not new to her

fcg has a flesh nose now

YESSS I was hoping for this

YEAH YEAH HELL YEAH

YEAH YEAH YEAH

permapate

"exposure therapy" dsklfjs

the newly refurbished chamber that was once Briarwood

why do I feel like we just heard part of every pitch meeting travis and sam had with the cartoon

percy shut the fuck up you never liked any of them

DOTYYYYYY

doty my beloved

MAKE LITTLE MISTER A GUN

a 21 HAS to do it

"this is how planet of the apes started"

scattershit

manners my beloved

fond flashbacks to dariax rubbing it on his gums

I just keep being distracted by how fking pretty laura is

where's scanlan, get your ioun ass in here

SAM

the pleather claps sdklfjs

okay look this is a very niche intersection of my interests but I'm picturing percy rolling up to the cerberus assembly like old bruce in batman beyond when he was getting his company back from derek powers

"how are you holding up?" "with a cane."

one shot that's just sam being tary and fcg

no dm only torment

scanlan shows up too

ashton

no one hates percy more than taliesin

"I just feel bad for him"

"thank you never mind go to bed"

chetNEY

oh I'm gonna CRY

I know a full Vox Machina Plot Rundown is impractical but part of me wants them to explain things to laudna

WAIT

IS IT

CRIES FOREVER???

f e a r n e

"get down here" "nO-"

"I start to give him a noogie but it hurts"

I love these fucking dorks so fucking much

they all react to the lights every time, I love it

I just noticed sam has veth's tattoo drawn on

57 things caught fire during break, I just got back

everybody's coats and gloves are off but liam's visor is back on

"we're on the moon, bitch"

wait until they find out what keyleth did UNDER the sun tree

do iiiiit

gay

oh there goes the visor again

Lady Laudna

"are you really doing this"

MCCOUGHNATREE LET'S GO

that voice + matt's getup is. something.

fearne: come here often?

trAVIS

"when they put up a new moon"

sun tree consent CANON

"I mean not the LORD" fuck you sam I was drinking soup

FUCK YOU MATT

LIKE JUST IN GENERAL

quick bring dorian back and install him in eshteross' place

NOT THAT HE'S DEAD

WE DON'T KNOW HE COULD JUST BE A SLOW START IN THE MORNING

"my face can't move!"

sdklfjsl matt flicking a card at sam

HORSE

"if you wind it the wrong way it DOES explode"

whats-his-face de rolo

laura fully distracted by the horse (valid)

OH YEAH rip podcast listeners

GILMORE?

fcg fuck off I want to see gilmore

taliesin's latent percy ego

do I get to hear matt gilmore again???

"I wasn't gonna let this not happen" thank you for your service taliesin

;-;

dangit I thought it was at least the husband

no I want a shopping episode

"shaun or nothin"

there's a WHOLE HOUR left what in hell

not the full name dlkfjsl

MATT

"what if he gets hurt?" "I can bring him back!" "no, don't!"

chetney phases through the door

matt

matthew

why blood odd

something something tf2 dead ringer

I need a tweest

what is the tweest

FINALLY

THIS BITCH

don't squish him!!

"how bad can it be" sunken tomb

"it opens" "and I die"

don't read that man's mail

(I know they're gonna have to read the mail)

;-;

TRAVIS

SIR

taliesin: hide that shit right now

BODEH

I feel like this is the least respectful major NPC death ever

thank you for ignoring the button travis

NOW get dorian

at least TELL dorian

#critical role #spoilers #crititag #liveblog #reaction post

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witched-kid · 2 years

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You deserve to be more than a footnote in Delilah's story

#NOW ITS LIAM WITH THE EMOTIONAL METAL CHAIR #GODS IM ALREADY CRYING #critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #critical role liveblog

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nishmonkey · 10 months

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bro it’s so fucked that Orym is the only one whose words got through in the resurrection ritual literally saying “you deserve to be more than a footnote in Delilah’s story.” AND THEN LITERALLY TURNING AROUND AND ENABLING LAUDNA TO BRING HER BACK

#critical role #god I love inner party conflict #it’s so sick #I live for it

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darkbluemint · 2 years

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"More than a footnote in Delilah's story", that's beautiful...

#critical role spoilers #critical role

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njcklenjart · 7 years

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something wild 4/6

Summary: The locals speak of a monster and Newt’s all too ready to investigate.

A/N: I put my fics on hold until my sister updated the first chapter of her Voltron fic, so if you like klance, I urge you to check it out here! This story is also on FF and AO3 is anyone prefers those sites!

First • Previous • Next

Names have meaning.

Newt’s traveled to many places, gotten a taste of many cultures, and in each names were valued differently. He's met monks who've abandoned their in favor of spiritual realization and, in the same continent, a women with an introduction so long it spanned minutes, adding a new title with each passing footnote in her life.

Names comes and go with the girl’s people. When the boys make the transition into manhood, they often discard their birth names and become Acinbaai, taking on names after their favorite cattle (in the short period he's remained at the village, he's already learned more ways to say cow than he ever thought he would). The women of the village have unoriginal, common names, but somehow they're all unfitting for the little girl.

Newt would like to call her by a name, so he may stop referring her merely as “the girl.” She deserves a name; something wild and different, like her.

“You need a name- a proper name,” says Newt one afternoon. “Everyone has one.”

They're out in the jungle a little ways from her hut, out of sight of the village. It's become something of a second home, a patch of sun with flat rocks and thick roots where they can lay about, the river only down the way. The warm weather leaves the jungle in a doze, only a few birds flitting about, while Newt sits back and watches the girl dig her fingers into the dirt.

She has a name, he knows, but none of the villagers will tell him and he doesn't think they ever will unless they've drunk a truth serum. A monster does not deserve a name, they say.

Newt’s heard her speak, a few noises that resemble words he's heard the villagers say here and there, even some English words that undoubtedly came from him, and yet he can't get a syllable out of her whenever he asks for her name. She understands what he's asking, he knows, so either she doesn't want to tell him or she can't remember it herself.

It makes Newt wonder how long this persecution has been going on.

She's intelligent, far more so than he'd given her credit for when he'd first met her. Not only that, but she's inquisitive. With the years of setback, she's behind on basic learnings, but it has nothing to do with a lack of wanting. He gives her paper and charcoal and soon her drawings turns to copies of his writing, scraggly words that are almost legible. She goes through his suitcase (when it's only just a suitcase, not a hidden menagerie), examining his spying glass and maps, stroking his house scarf and pajamas, even playing with his alarm clock.

“I can give you one if you'd like. How about an English name?”

She looks up at him briefly before going back to her digging. Newt takes this as an affirmative.

“Gertrude?”

He chuckles when she sticks out her tongue. “No? Well, how about Abigail?” Again, he’s met with disgust. “What? That’s a fine name! Hmm, alright- Tilda? Victoria? Delilah?”

He offers other names that he knows she won’t like if only to get a little joy out of her. Thelma. Geraldine. Bertha. Myrtle. Eunice. Winfred.

He rattles them off until his list of proper English names runs dry and, still, the girl hasn't found one she likes. It's clear they won't be going far with this selection, so his best bet is to change tactics. “I've heard some names while traveling…”

He plays around with Rukhayma, disregarding it with Aamira and Awek. She ignores him when he offers Aliya, turning away at Kazima.

“Marjani? Aluel? Imani?” She perks up. “Imani? No- not Imani? Aluel? That’s the one you like? Aluel?”

She smiles and Newt returns it, just as bright.

“Wonderful.” Chuckling, he pulls out a daisy from his sleeve and offers it to her. “Aluel it is.”

Fun fact: Dinka women only have names that begin with 'a.' They're polygamous and often times the daughters will be named after the same person (i.e. the father's mother or grandmother), the only differentiation between them being the added name of their mother's.

Example: If 5 half-sisters were named Jane, but their mother's names were A, B, C, D, and E, their full names would be Jane A, Jane B, Jane C, Jane D, and Jane E.

See? Fanfictions can be educational!

#fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts #fbawtft #hp #newt scamander #sudanese obscurial girl #njckle

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avanneman · 6 years

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Amy Chozick’s Chasing Hillary: You don’t have to be a pr*ck to work for the New York Times, or the Clinton campaign. But it helps! A LOT!

Newspaper reporters are not like you and me. They believe newspaper reporters are important.

That’s one of the takeaways from Timesgal Amy Chozick’s new opus, Chasing Hillary Ten Years, Two Presidential Campaigns, and One Intact Glass Ceiling, a political campaign book with a difference, because it’s more about Amy than about Hillary, about how a compulsively over-achieving Texas Jew from the sticks fought her way up to the tippy-top of the journalistic food chain so that people could shit on her.

That’s Amy’s picture of life at the top: everybody hates you. Your “colleagues” try to undermine you, because they want all the good stories for themselves. Your “sources” try to crush your spirit, make you their bitch, so that you will write what they want you to write. People are always trying to “get in your head”—make you afraid, psych you out—but it’s also an accusation—“Are you getting in my head?” which is somehow seen as horrible, even though, as Amy tells it, that’s really the whole point of life in the Big City, to make others subservient to your will.

The “One Intact Glass Ceiling” line in the title (probably the publisher’s idea) has encouraged a number of ax-grinding reviewers to seize on Amy’s book as proof (as if they needed any proof) that the mainstream media were in the tank for Hillary. But they were just looking for a hook, an angle. Amy wanted Hillary to win, not because she liked her, but because the election of the first woman president would a Great Story, which Amy would write! And thus, in her own mind, become immortal.

The old-fashioned dream/fantasy of some reporters that, if the media reports "the truth" the people will make the "correct" decisions, in the voting booth and elsewhere, is largely absent from Amy's world. However, she does feel that she, and the rest of the media, were deeply "burned" by the Russian/WikiLeaks hacking of the Democratic National Committee emails. The hacking, not the DNC's inside gossip, should have been the story.

Although Amy tells us “no one else could fascinate and inspire and infuriate me all at the same time the way Hillary could,” I never got the feeling that that was true. Chozick seems to have no interest at all in Hillary’s “ideas”1—what she stands for—and thinks of her almost entirely as an awkward yet remarkable obsessive compulsive who has willed herself into the national spotlight out of sheer ambition (like Amy?), one who, moreover, deeply distrusts all reporters in general and hates Amy Chozick in particular.2

In fact, there’s plenty of reason for Clinton’s distrust, for, as Amy tells it, there’s nothing Amy likes more than embarrassing people, though she’s always bewildered when they resent it. One of her most favorite “scoops” occurred when she learned that the Clinton Foundation, to obtain Natalie Portman’s appearance at an international event, bought a first-class ticket, not just for Natalie, but for Natalie’s dog! For both Amy and her editor, Carolyn Ryan, the cream of the jest occurs later, when Republicans reference the ticket for Natalie’s Yorkie in a fund-raising pitch. Because that’s why Timesgals get up in the morning: so they can help Republicans raise cash.

In the real world, of course, the Clinton folks probably felt lucky to get Natalie for the price of a first-class plane ticket for her dog, instead of, you know, the price of a first class plane! “A big one—the kind you can stand up in. He has terrible claustrophobia.”

When Hillary 2016 was just a glimmer in someone’s eye, Amy wrote a cover story (a cover story!) for the New York Times Magazine, “Planet Hillary”, filled with both la-di-da graphics and zingers (many of which she recycled for this book), which began as follows:

“Hillary Clinton was nodding solemnly to the mother of a 9/11 victim when Huma Abedin, standing across the room, called out, “Let’s load!” to the staff members and bodyguards. The former secretary of state had yet to pick up her award from the Voices of September 11th, but her entourage was already preparing to shuttle her off to the next event, a benefit for God’s Love We Deliver, which was co-hosted by the designer Michael Kors and where she would sit next to the Vogue editor and former Obama bundler Anna Wintour.”3

So, to summarize: “Sure, 9/11 mothers are important, but we’re talking Anna Fucking Wintour here! Move your crab-ridden ass!”

In her story, Chozick organized dozens of Clinton folks into various categories, from “The Inner Circle” and “Chelsea Patrol” to “The White Boys” and “Poseurs”.4 For some reason, Team Hillary, aka “The Guys”, didn’t appreciate being held up to public ridicule in such a manner and demanded a meeting with Amy, who tells us that “I apologized. I said I’d try to do a better job next time and I’d be more careful moving forward. But that just pissed The Guys off more. The shrinking violet act and all.”

At the same time, Amy tells us that she feels she was set up, innocently reporting intramural backstabbing and payback as fact, which sounds sort of like, you know, bad reporting to me.

As you might guess from Amy’s opening paragraph, Amy likes to think of herself as an across the tracks gal, who had to fight her way up from nothing to make it in the Big Apple, her path blocked every step of the way by entitled Ivy League pricks and shits, but her specific motivation isn’t revealed until she goes to a Hillary rally at Washington Square (in New York City), where Hillary is passé and Bernie is le dernier cri:

“I dove into the crowd like an anthropologist, eager to understand why young women, in particular, weren’t With Her. But as I talked to so many students from NYU—and as their mouths moved and I followed up with “What’s your major?” and “How do you spell Delilah?”—I was secretly seething with resentment. I’d wanted to attend NYU ever since our seventh-grade Hobby Middle School trip to Washington and New York.”

But NYU cost $25,000 a year back then, so Amy has to settle for UT instead. But now, all of a sudden, confronting these Bernie chicks, she’s proud: “I looked at these twiggy, unshaven girls living in the West Village on their parents’ backs. … My envy began to fade. I’d been a brat.” Of course, she’d been living in Austin—which somehow manages to think of itself as cool—on her parents’ backs, with a ring in her nose—“a silver loop too big for my face that sat in a dollop of pink pus on my left nostril.” Well, you’re only young once, and she was saving her dad $21,000 a year.

Unlike conventional campaign books, which describe, you know, the campaign, Chasing Hillary is largely about Amy, about the frenzied, pointless exhaustion of covering a presidential campaign—driving down deserted roads at midnight during a blinding snowstorm to cover a meaningless speech in Wherethefuckarewe, Iowa, pigging out on junk food until your fat pants don’t fit you, wearing the same clothes for three days, losing any semblance of control over your Jewfro5—but it’s not all about her. Chozick has some shrewd things to say about Bill and Hillary—in particular, the extent to which they did sell out to Wall Street, for both political and personal reasons. She describes accompanying the Clintons on a philanthropic tour of Africa, staying at the Saxon Hotel in Johannesburg, once the palatial residence of South African billionaire Douw Steyn. Bill, naturally, has his own private luxury bungalow: “Yeah, I always feel slightly guilty staying over here,” Bill tells her. “But I get over it.” Hey, livin’ good and doin’ good. You can’t beat that!

In 2008, Amy caught Hillary saying some interesting things about NAFTA, which was still okay to like: “The benefits haven’t been uniformly distributed.” Unfortunately, she didn’t follow up on that. As Amy tells it, Team Hillary decided that they didn’t need angry white guys, even though, clearly, the electorate—a large chunk of it, anyway—was angry, as Hillary found out in the form of one Bernie Sanders. Chozick, because she didn’t trash Hillary 24/7, got a good taste of it in the form of endless emails from the Bernie Bros, ragin’ incels whose only form of sexual release seemed to come from calling women “cunts”.

Amy clearly believes that if Team Hillary had listened to Bill, with his old-fashioned ideas about going after working-class white voters, she would have won. I believe if she had used the State Department server, she would have won, comfortably. I also believe that if she had been a sensible secretary of state, persuading Obama not to invade Libya instead of invading it, she would have won going away. I also believe that if Obama had been more concerned with catering to the middle class, instead of pushing both for universal health care for the poor and entitlement cuts to please Wall Street, the ranks of Democratic governors and senators wouldn't have been decimated, giving Democrats more attractive candidates than an aging, battle-scarred figure loathed by many both on the right and on the left.

Chozick portrays Hillary as compulsive fund-raiser, even in the closing days of the campaign. Hanging out with the upper class at $10,000 a plate dinners is so much more relaxing than hand shakin’ and speechifyin’ with the many headed. She particularly puts a stick in Hillary for taking off most of the month of August to hang with her famous friends in the Hamptons, staying with Steven Spielberg and bringing Hillary’s two dogs along (“Masie, a curly-haired mutt, and Tally, a toy-poodle mix”), which strikes Amy as particularly over the top—“I mean, who brings their dogs?” Amy confesses that she herself and husband Bobby have taken an occasional weekend in the Hamptons as well, but I guess sans dogs, sometimes staying at “Daunt’s Albatross” (which definitely is cheap). “When the motel didn’t work out, we did what Bill, Hillary, and most of New York did: we mooched off rich friends.”

Well, in August 2016 Hillary and Bill did mooch, but in the past they rented their own place, but Amy still won’t give them a break. “Previous summers, when the Clintons rented their own beachside estates, Hillary’s brothers, Tony and Hugh, and the entire extended family showed up—the moochers of the moochers. (A grocer in East Hampton told me he saw Roger Clinton buying milk in a track suit).”

Bitchy much, girl friend? If the Clintons rented their own place, they weren’t moochers. If Amy’s sister stayed with her in New York, would she be a “moocher”? What is proper attire for buying milk in East Hampton, a blue blazer and white flannels? Or is the point that wide-assed hillbillies like Roger Clinton don’t belong in East Hampton in the first place?6 That’s the worst thing about snobbery: it’s catching.

Afterwords Ever industrious, and ever ingenious, Amy not only wrote a book recycling her coverage of Hillary, she wrote an article for the Times about writing the book: “How Does a Political Reporter Write a Memoir? First, Read Books. A Lot of Books.”. I confess that I haven’t read that article, but I have read her book, so I’ll offer a few suggestions for the second edition:

—Said of Carolyn Ryan: she “had New England newsprint in her blood.” The cliché that Amy’s groping for here of course is “printer’s ink”.

—“the youngest of two daughters.” Try “younger”.

—When Hillary gets pneumonia, according to Amy “the virus became a status symbol,” and quotes editor Carolyn as joking that people are infecting themselves with “pneumonia bacteria” to keep up. Props to Carolyn for knowing that pneumonia is caused by bacteria7 but none to Amy for not knowing that viruses and bacteria are not the same thing.

—Amy also talks about “pulsing” veins. I know that “vein” has traditionally been used to mean both arteries and veins, but it’s been almost four hundred years since William Harvey wrote On the Circulation of the Blood. Let’s get caught up.

—Amy repeatedly uses the word “suffragette”. Maybe this is second-wave feminism or whatever, but some gals prefer “suffragist”. Like “actor” instead of “actress”.

Amy shows a distinct lack of enthusiasm for dogs, which I am totally down with. I am known, in my building, as the grumpy old man who hates dogs.8 Which makes me wonder (though not really) why she made no mention of the fact that former NYT executive editor Jill Abramson celebrated her promotion by inaugurating a (long) series of columns about her dog “Scout”, which she then turned into a book, to which the Times devoted two highly favorable reviews!

Afterwords II, special nitpickers edition Like 99.07% of the population, Chozick says "lay" when purists like myself would say "lie"—as in "I'm going to lie down now." Almost 20 years ago I was reading a recipe online in the Times and came across the instruction to let two sheets of phyllo dough "lay open like the pages of a book". I immediately sent an email to the Times instructing them of their error and got a response thanking me for "holding us to our high standards" about 45 minutes later. Maybe I haven't been paying attention, but I haven't seen them make that mistake again.

There is no mention in this book of Clinton’s record either as a senator or as secretary of state, nor of any of Clinton’s policy proposals made during the 2016 campaign. Chozick defines "news" as whatever it is people want to talk about and is scornful of reporters who want to explore the issues in-depth. ↩︎

Hillary told people who “knew her when” not to talk to Amy because Amy hated her. ↩︎

Additional zingers: “It was just another hectic fall evening in Manhattan for Clinton, and she was keeping herself busy as usual in the “is she or isn’t she” interim. There were paid speeches to give (at $200,000 a pop) to the American Society of Travel Agents and the National Association of Realtors, filled with the wisdom gleaned from being the nation’s top diplomat (“leadership is a team sport” was one favorite; “you can’t win if you don’t show up” was another).” ↩︎

Robert Zimmerman, Johnathan Orszag, Matthew Hiltzik, and Declan Kelly, in case you’re interested. ↩︎

I did not know that “Jew hair” was a thing until a couple of months ago when I read a review of season 4 of *Broad City” in New York magazine, in which the topic came up. What really surprised me was that a Jewish girl would worry about her Jew hair in New York City. ↩︎

Rog does have a bit of a history of drug and alcohol abuse. So he should fit right in. ↩︎

Carolyn was probably/possibly remembering from biology class how Oswald Avery proved that genetic information is carried by the DNA molecule through a series of famous experiments using pneumonia bacteria. ↩︎

I don’t hate them, but I don’t have to love them, do I? Especially when they fucking bark at six fucking o’clock in the morning! Goddamn it! ↩︎

#Amy Chozick #Hillary Clinton

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