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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

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Outer Banks Playlist

Here is a cohesive list of songs I listen to usually when I write my fics/blurbs/etc! These are all the songs that aren’t a part of the official playlist that make me think of the show in general, the pogues, a certain character, or a certain fic.

Enjoy!

Electric Love by BΦRNS - baby you’re like lightning in a bottle, i can’t let it go now that i’ve got it

I’m not sure what it is about this song, but it was the first one I put on this playlist. There’s just something about it that really screams “relationship with JJ Maybank” to me, but don’t ask me what.

If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin - i’ll be your brother and i’ll hold your hand, you should know i’ll be there for you

I get major pogue vibes from this song. It doesn’t matter that they’re not family by blood, they will always stick by each other no matter what. They’re there for each other through the thick and the thin.

We Are Young by fun. and Janelle Monae - tonight, we are young, so let’s set the world on fire, we can burn brighter than the sun

Another very pogue style song. They are young and they are free and they’re living it up. The Pogues and this song are very “you’re here for a good time, not a long time”.

Royals by Lorde - and we’ll never be royals, it don’t run in our blood, that kind of lux just ain’t for us, we crave a different kind of buzz

Probably guessing a theme here now, but this is the pogues through and through. I mean, the entire time they’re looking for the gold, most of their thinking is about “going full kook”, living that fantasy.

Let it Ride by AUTOMATIC LOVELETTER - take me away, let’s get out of this town, run baby run, we’re unstoppable now

This song has always hit home with me, especially when it comes to kids and a found family situation, which is the Pogues. Just listen to it and I think you’ll understand. It’s so amazing.

Already Gone by Sleeping at Last - you couldn’t have loved me better, i want you to move on, cause i’m already gone

If I tell you why exactly I put this one on here, it would be a spoiler for one of my longer fics, so I’ll just leave it to your imagination. Sleeping at Last > Kelly Clarkson, at least with this song.

Hello by Walk of the Earth - there’s such a difference between us and a million miles

This version is a lot more bitter than Adele’s version, so I think it really fits here with all the kids who were disappointed by their parents. JJ with Luke, John B with his mom and Dad, Sarah and Rafe with their mom, Ward, and Rose. Also just with like 90% of the adults in the entire series just constantly failing these kids, I feel like this version kinda flowed with that. Also kinda makes me think about Elma from “Ocean and Alcohol” and her relationship with her mom.

On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons - paying my dues to the dirt, i’ve been waiting to smile, been holding it in for a while.

Another Pogue song. They deserve so much better than what they got and this is for all those little victories; finding the gold, surviving the boat crash, getting the keys to the Phantom, etc.

IDGAF by Dua Lipa - go find a girl who wants to listen, cause if you think i was born yesterday you have got me wrong

This one is mostly for Sarah and Kie, who are constantly being put down by others. Not so much the Pogues, but in that Midsummer’s episode where Kie’s mom tells her not to worry about the socioeconomics of the world when her complaints were legit. Or how Rafe, Ward, and Topper were constantly berating Sarah for her feelings. This is for them.

Kiss Me Deadly by Lita Ford - late to my job and the traffic was bad, had to borrow ten bucks from my old man, it ain’t no big thing

You can’t convince me that the Pogues don’t blast this song in the van while their cruising down the streets. I love this song.

Renegade by Styx - oh mama i’m in fear for my life from the long arm of the law, hang man is coming down from the gallows and i don’t have very long

The entire last two episodes, this was the only song I could think of. John B just exudes the energy of this song.

Warriors by Imagine Dragons - as a child you would wait and watch from far away, but you always knew that you’d be the one to work while they all played

This one is for everyone on the cut; the Pogues, Heyward, Big John, Ms. Lana. They were the ones who kept Kildare running. The fishermen, the mechanic, the laypeople. They built that island from their blood, their sweat, and their tears.

Run Boy Run by Woodkid - run boy run, they’re trying to catch you, run boy run, running is a victory

Here’s another one for John B is those last two episodes. Was I stressed out a singing songs to myself when i watched them the first time. Maybe so.

Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney - i am flesh and i am bone, i’ll rise, ting ting, like glitter and gold, i’ve got fire in my soul

Again, I’m not 100% sure why, but this gives me the vibes of outer banks. Maybe I just really like this song and associate it with everything. Maybe it’s because it has gold in the title. Who knows.

Why Did it Have to Be Me? by ABBA - you were looking for someone to hold, that’s only natural, by why did it have to be me?

If you thought you were making it out of here without a single ABBA song you were dead wrong. ABBA is one of my favorite bands and they just fit with everything. There aren’t specific characters for this song, but I think it still works for the show.

Lay All Your Love on Me by ABBA - i still don’t know what you’re done to me, a grown up woman should never fall in love so easily

Sarah and John B, Kie and Pope, Kie and JJ, the viewers and Rafe, i don’t care, take your pick. This song works for everyone all the time because, again, it’s ABBA. Love them. Love this song.

I’m Still Standing by Elton John - looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid, i’m still standing after all this time

This one just gives me so many feelings when I think about it with literally any of the kids. They’re put through so much crap, all of them, and yet there they are, standing and standing together. I mean, come on. Especially with John B’s speech to Ward in the finally episode. It’s just *chef’s kiss* Also Elton John is a legend.

Stand By You by Rachel Platten - hands, put your empty hands in mine, scars, show me all the scars you hide and hey, if your wings are broken, please take mine so yours can open too

Again, this one applies to so many places, but specifically the hot tub scene in episode 7. Even thought the Pogues have some issues sometimes, they are almost always 100% there for each other and that’s what this song is about.

Run the World (Girls) by Beyonce - smart enough to make these millions, strong enough to bare the children, then get back to business.

I honestly cannot think of a woman in Outer Banks who was not iconic. Kie: a social justice queen who cared so deeply for her friends, the environment, and others. Sarah: a girl who understood her privilege and tried to use it to help others. Peterkin: a boss bitch who figured everything out before anyone else. Wheezie: an iconic little sister who was in a toxic household but was still the most chaotic queen ever. Kie’s Mom: misguided sometimes, but she just wanted what was best for her baby girl. Pope’s Mom: IRONED HER SON’S CLOTHES EVEN THOUGH SHE DIDN’T KNOW IF HE WAS COMING HOME, also wanted what was best for Pope (and also JJ). Ms. Lana: lost her husband, had her home broken into and still confessed about Scooter and Ward when it was most important. Rose: was she evil, heck yeah. Was she the smartest character on the show? Probably. That girl knew just when to use the right words and who to manipulate when. Congrats queen, you’re crazy but you have the most brain cells. Mrs. Craine: Killed her husband and got away with it! I’d like to see Ward try that. Anyway, point is, this show is full of boss women and I love them all.

Uprising by Muse - they will not force us, they will stop degrading us, they will not control us, we will be victorious

So, maybe season one didn’t end in the best way for the Pogues. Still, they were thisclose to beating the system that screwed them all constantly. And I have faith that things will go even better for them later. I just...this song makes me feel like toppling a government or a psychopath rich man so I added it.

There are more, but these are the ones that hit me the most! If you want to see more, just let me know. And, as always

stay safe

stay healthy

stay groovy

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hey-hamlet · 5 years

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BNHA AU Ideas : University Professors (in Love)

Also on AO3!

TL;DR:

Due to a long-standing feud between various Law and Science professors, the students from those respective degrees don’t get along very well. What better way to foster some good (or at least non-violent) relations between departments than to start a new science-in-law degree?

Too bad the Law and Science professors - Yamada Hizashi and Aizawa Shouta, respectively - working on the course together hate each other's guts.

(Well, until they fall in love.)

Oh and Izuku and Hitoshi are sleep deprived first years running on noodles and Redbull, but what else is new?

this is at a big ass, top tier university

all might is like, the david attenbourgh of this universe but he got injured on set and moved to teaching, he's not that relevant i just wanted to include him because hes a good man

so, aizawa is under all might in the science faculty hierarchy, but not by much considering how young he is. aizawas the animal physiology teacher and does shit tones of research with zoos and shelters for husbandry studies

now, the two big draws of this campus are like the wet sciences and their law section, but the whole campus is pretty swish: like if gatton and st. lucia were connected with land but still as weird as the other.

Now none of you know anything about my uni, so imagine not quite an Ivy League school, but still one of the fancier collages in your state, with a redneck agricultural campus slapped on. But the rednecks are liberals.

Now imagine they are run by the same people

so one of the law lectures retires and they get a new one! its mic! and now aizawa is already pissed. hes dealt with mic before riding his ass in ethics committees and honestly just making life harder for him than it had to be

and the university tells him to reduce the hostility between the two sides of the campus, they are going to be holding some law classes in the animal side and vice versa and aizawa is piiisssssedddd

and then they fucking, start a new animal science/law degree about animal ethics law and aizawa is flipping his fucking lid because all might is already the vet science-vet tech degree co-ordinator and since aizawa is so new, hes the highest-ranking person to not be a degree coordinator

so of course, hes the new degree coordinator

but oh no, nezu isnt done

hes coordinating with mic, and they are the two primary lecturers for the two first, second and third-year compulsory subjects so aizawa is having a mini breakdown rant at allmight in the staff room when mic bursts in to say hello

allmight shoves aizawa in the cupboard and nervously chats to mic as aizawa tries not to make a noise from where he was quickly shoved into a cupboard of skeletons. hes internally saying sorry to the skeleton of that one tutor who donated himself to the uni. mic leaves, allmight helps him out and aizawa is just caught between pissed and flustered tbh

so the science people band together to allow aizawa to drown his sorrows in the nice food on the other side of the campus

and they have fucking, disguised aizawa

hes in one of nemuri's wigs, a pair of sunglasses from snipe and one of the nice lab techs named inko gave him a big puffy coat

and so this pack of science nerds is penguin huddle sprinting to the one ramen shop they all love, trying to hide aizawa from nezu, hizashi, and other random law students/lecturers hes pissed off

so allmight swears he sees hizashi but its nbd he only waves

so they get there, and all give aizawa sympathetic looks and buy him his lunch even though he insists he has money. inko the lab tech is there too bc i love her and she is aggressively mothering aizawa

when they are done they run back to the science side because no one has the courage needed to stop a hoard of sprinting scientists. also: nemuri is the chem lecturer and you should know that

its like the middle of the school year when this starts, so aizawa and hizashi have to scrap together this degree real fucking quickly

even though the both of them have Opinions about the other, they refuse to let their students suffer bc of how poorly planned this was so they knuckle the fuck down and bust out 1.5 years worth of content before the end of the year. they dont do much in person, mostly just emailing

aizawa is softer on mic bc they guy isn't horrific over email. unknown to him mic has developed a full-on crush on this guy

hes like, crying to joke "hes just,,, he wants to do good for his students you know? he isnt just a lecturer for the research money,,, he c a r e s,,,"

the whole god damn science faculty is mothered by the head lab animal tech, inko and they see her fretting about one day, and its turns out this whole fucking time shes had a son and didn't want to say anything bc she didn't wanna impose

(yagi has a big ol crush on her but nbd)

and so shes surrounded by all these nerds asking ab izuku and how old he is, and what he likes to do and they've never seen her happier rambling about her son. She tells them she let slip ab the new degree a little early, and izuku wants to be in it so badly and everyone is real soft

hes graduating next year, so thats even more motivation for aizawa to buck up and make this degree work bc he knows one of the kids now, and from what inkos told him, the boys a good kid

the entire faculty has already adopted izuku

one thing she hasn't mentioned ab izuku is that hes got chronic fatigue syndrome

aka izuku is constantly exhausted, his immune system is a bit shit, and hes in chronic pain that isnt affected by painkillers, other symptoms can just like, pop up, its pretty not understood

anyway, thats the reason izuku wants to get into animal law, not vet practise, bc hes not sure he'll always be able to physically pick up the animals and he doesnt wanna do them like that

anyway, its near the end of the year and its time to set the OP threshold. I have 0 idea how you guys get into uni, but an OP is basically: your grades are ranked, then your subjects are ranked, then your school is ranked by a fancy test. Your OP is the score from 1-25 you get with all that jazz. 1-5 is like: you can do almost anything. 1 is like doctors, vets, law. 1-15 is pretty respectable, under than you might need to do a little fuckery to get into a course.

mic is pushing for like, 10, bc its a new degree

but aizawa isn't having that. op 2 or he wont sign off on it and mic doesnt understand why and aizawa just turns towards him

"im not having animals suffer lower standards than humans. standard law is an op 1. vet science is an op 1. im already making a concession here."

mic swoons a little tbh, they eventually agree on op 5

anyway, izuku has an op 2 so its nbd for him, inko is so proud of her boy! aizawa has a little "thank fuck" moment bc he really did want this kid to get in bc he sounded like a good kid. also, mic's nephew shinso is in the first class! aizawa is actively trying not to remember the kids name so he isn’t a dick to him for 0 reason

there is like a grand total of 80 people in this degree which honestly isnt that bad

super high rate of externals tho, so there are only 50 students on campus

20 students in the campus dorms

izuku is one of them, he was gonna get in anyway but they put him in and gave him a nice first floor room bc making the poor guy walk up and down stairs for no reason is just mean

hes in self-catered bc while hes not super picky, hes allergic to some stuff, and some other stuff makes him sick, so no dining hall

shinso is his nextdoor neighbour. hes in self-catered bc he put his form in late and thats the only spot they had left! he cant cook so save his actual life.

so, mirio is the ra and hes a big soft 4th-year vet, he works out to give the dogs hugs

amajiki is his neighbour he has a cat - i mean - very loud fish (aka: no pets other than fish allowed)

when mirio likes people, he just,,, puts a cat in their face, and insists its a fish until they get it

that cats name is guppy i don’t make the rules

ok so, izuku and shinso meet and bond a bit in freshers’ week (think hazing, but gentle, with loads of games and forced bonding), but shinso is intimidated bc izuku is smiley and social and has loads of friends

and that does a 180 when he gets back to his room after a late-night walk, seeing izuku crying in the kitchen as he waits for the kettle to boil because a hot water bottle is the only thing that might stop his arms from aching

and shinso like, hides bc he gets not wanting people to know what's wrong but from then one he is SUPER protective of izuku

anyway, end of the week izuku confesses that he has chronic pain so he might be a bit grumpy sometimes and shinsou has to be like "oh its nbd" when one day he almost smacked their other neighbour with a piece of frozen steak bc he was making too much noise in the morning when izuku got to sleep really late

on the weekend they play videogames and make popcorn as the other kids go home, and they get visited by inko and Hizashi

inko is mothering izuku and has two very fat rats in her arms that she dumps on him and he lights up

see: izuku isnt allowed pets. but no one said anything about inko

so she got the two softest, dumbest, babiest rats shes ever seen and they live on her desk now. and shinso is like "SONs" and they have rats in their jumpers while all 3 of them play mariokart

hizashi stops by to help shinso cook bc he admitted hes only been eating frozen shit. izuku is gently telling him off bc he could have helped! but shinso is like "no i needed to maintain my cool vibes" so hizashi gently grabs izuku, sets up the two chairs like fluffy thrones and they order shinso around the kitchen like hes a servant

shinso is loosing his actual mind laughing and so is izuku. they force him to make katsu curry and eat it in the kitchen on their thrones while shinso sits on a shitty box fridge. there are more chairs left, hes being extra

so, first day of classes, they have principals of law first, izuku drags his pained ass out of bed and he and shinso make their way to class, both freezing fucking cold holding mugs of hot drink

they sit down

the lecturer is mic

izuku is losing his shit and shinso is like "oh yeah didnt i tell you?" and izuku is trying not to cackle/punch him. he waves sheepishly at mic who waves back with great enthusiasm

mics first class is just

KAHOOT

it’s not even law-related, it’s just random bs animal facts

shinsos name is c a t s and hizashi is losing his mind bc izuku set his name as d o g s r b e t t e r

the lectures r live-streamed so the external students can join in real-time and monomas on the other end like s n a k e

hizashi is losing his actual m i n d, everyone just has variations of their favourite animal

also pwease during this lecture mic is just chatting w the students ab whats going to happen, sees izukus mug of tea and says

"ok and just so everyone knows, please feel free to eat and drink in my lectures, just dont let anyone know i said that

"sir this is being recorded"

"shhhhh"

pls bakugous that one asshole that whips out a full course meal and starts distributing it amongst his squad. bakugo is just a plain law student, but there are some plain law students taking this course as an elective

mic honestly looks bakugo in the eyes, and orders pizza for everyone but him. hes standing in font of the mic so its fucking recorded too. izuku is cackling

ok so, they have an hour break and go to the cafe, inko crashes and smuggles them outside, and gives them the rats

inko and izuku aren't super well off financially bc they are saving for a service dog and its EXPENSIVE, even tho inko makes ok money, husband divorced her bc izuku was sick, izuku has issues, was bullied in school, has had cfs for ages

so inko has these rats bc she "liberated" them from the end of a cosmetics trial she heped nemuri run and nerumi stood infront of the secruity camera and closed her eyes

anyway, next lecture is aizawa's

shinso has vaguely heard ab the guy from hizashi and desperately wants to sit in the back row. izuku has heard ab the guy vaguely from inko and desperately wants to sit in the front row. izuku wins bc they walked in through the lower door and shinso doesnt wanna make the guy walk up all those steps

aizawa walks in, nicely says hello to shinso, izuku and the over kid in the front row, tells the people in the back row that if they think he cant see or hear them from there they have another thing coming, and immediately starts talking ab how many people working in animal-related fields and in law are depressed

izuku raises his hand, while shinso is aggressively trying to pull it down

"yes, kid?"

"what if you're already depressed, professor?"

aizawa pauses, turns off the mic and loses his shit quietly behind his desk, shinso is red and trying to hide, izuku looks proud of himself. aizawa gets himself together, coughs, and turns the mic back on

"seems we had a bit of a technical difficulty, continuing on"

and the whole room loses their shit, and aizawa is grinning like an idiot but his voice is the same pissed monotone as usual

just have to Be There for aizawas lectures like everyone who doesn’t show up is like :///// idk why y’all like him so much he’s kinda boring and izukus like No you have to Be There

in Person

everyone thinks the guy is a boring old man who keeps breaking his computers. in reality, hes like 26, really tired, and keeps losing his shit so hard he turns off the mic so No One Can Know

one time he walked in in hot pink leggings and when he asked "any questions?" ochako (a vet tech student in the class) ask "sir where did you buy those because they look amazing" "the internet, ochako. any other questions."

and bc you cant hear the students all the externals are trying to work out what the question was. it becomes a meme

last day of lectures they all show up in matching leggings. aizawas soft but he Refuses to show them. they fucking found the site he bought them from, all of them have pink leggings in increasingly vibrant shades

shinso's are like, lilac

izukus are eyebleeding, highlighter pink

anyway! mic likes to share the tea from behind the scenes

and so they learn ab the "really sweet department head with a crush on a lab tech" and izuku loses his shit. puts his hand up, and mic says "yeah?"

izuku clambers out of his seat, asks mic to turn the recording off, takes the mic and stares down the class

"that lab tech in my mum and shes smitten for this guy. totally smitten."

'ooOH SHIT REALLY?"

izuku just grins and nods

"ok class, extra credit. can we go through this uni's stance on dating co-workers. anyone who gives me a quick, sighted explanation of whether or not we can hook these two up gets 5% of their final mark, no questions asked"

fuckin, izuku is so on board with this, and tells hizashi he'll leave the assignments on inkos table at home if he wants, the whole class gets so fucking into it

anyway, after all that jazz izuku spots yagi and inko out for coffee together and reports it as a win, the class cheers

as an aside: hizashi is very open ab the fact hes one of 2 degree coordinators but he hasnt mentioned the second

its also very obvious he has a crush on the second, and that hes a little older than them (hizashi is 32, shouta is 26) now, literally no one thinks aizawa is the other

bc hes 26, and wears fucking pink leggings to lectures. hes like, hes baby. hes so small, so young, takes his cat to class in a backpack

its literally only the externals who think he could be bc they think hes like 50. aizawa has the curse of just having great fucking bone structure, hes really god damn hot. half of their love letters pages is people thirsting over him and hes so mad ab it. he doesnt brush his hair and wears dumb clothes but apparently, that makes him relatable or some shit

anyway, hizashi is off-topic talking ab the lab tech that mothers the other course coordinator and shinso sees izuku perk up

they guy has been looking out of it all morning bc hes having a bad day, but wanted to go to lectures. anyway, after the lecture hes scrambles over to hizashi and asks

"oh my god is the other coordinator professor aizawa”

"damn, what gave it away"

"mum mothers him because he never eats and he apparently looks like hes barely 20, which is false, but thats mum for you"

once they get out of lectures izuku is like

"shinso. shinso"

and shinso looks lost

"you know what this means, shinso""

"no. no i dont"

"MATCH MAKING TIME"

#bnha au #professors in love au #aizawa shouta #aizawa #eraserhead #erasermic #present mic #yamada hizashi #midoriya izuku #midoriya #izuku #shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shindeku #if you squint

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panlight · 5 years

Note

If the Volturi weren’t recast as evil but were considered family friends, what would the Cullens do on a vacation to Volterra? Which Cullen is friends with which Volturi? Who other than Carlisle tries to get them to eat animals? Who just loves the artwork?

I’ve always thought there were, consciously or not, a lot of parallels between the Cullens and Volturi. But I’m not sure if they would lead to genuine friendships or competitive rivalries. Maybe both? Maybe frenemies? Rosalie and Heidi are both exceptionally beautiful, even more than the average vampire, and that beauty has been a blessing and a curse to both of them in certain ways. Rosalie’s story is well-known; Heidi’s beauty–indirectly because of her gift, but also her important role in the Volturi. SM writing it would almost certainly make them rivals. Especially with beauty, she’s kind of constantly building up some characters by putting down others. But wouldn’t it be great if they buck that trend and bonded? If instead of competing they related. Maybe instead of beauty, they bond over a shared love of astronomy, or some other science/tech subject.

Felix and Emmett are obvious. They have similar energy. The big, intimidating dude who is also teasing and fun. They’d be competitive–but in a fun away. “Bet I can throw this bulldozer farther than YOU can.” Emmett challenges Felix to a vegetarian hunt and Felix is like “no thanks my dude Aro made me do that once, never again.” “Chicken…” “I’m DEFINITELY not gonna eat a chicken!” “No, I meant–”

I’m intrigued by a friendship between Esme and Marcus. Esme is someone who lost the most important person in her life (her baby) and recovered; Marcus lost the most important person in his life and hasn’t moved passed it. I know book Marcus is supposed to be in his late teens, although honestly I read all the Volturi as older (30-40s) initially. But even if he is that young, she’s got a lot of experience nurturing, befriending and supporting forever teens, and might do him a world of good.

Esme, obviously, is also going to mother Jane and Alec. Alec’s open to it, but Jane is initially resistant. But it doesn’t last too long. Esme is hard to resist.

I feel like Edward, Demetri and Alice might form a weird little group, but again with an edge of rivalry and annoyance but also this weird understanding. They’re all kind of these fashionable, artistic types. Alice and Demetri would bond (and argue) over fashion, and I think Demetri could go toe-to-toe with Edward on music and literature. Edward does argue about vegetarianism, too.

Jasper is just standing in the corner the whole time, arms crossed, not trusting any of these people. He doesn’t see them as villains but does see them as authority figures and his previous life with Maria wasn’t strictly legal so he’s not super thrilled to be there. Some of the lesser guards, the ones of the front lines, start to cautiously approach him, being impressed with his scars, and they start to exchange war stories.

Carlisle gets back into his friendly debates with Aro, which Aro thoroughly enjoys while Caius scowls like I thought we got rid of this guy. Aro asks Carlisle about human advancements and technology he’s seen in the minds of humans and young vampires and immediately sets up a facebook page and challenges Carlisle to dozens of simultaneous Words with Friends games.

During their vacation, Aro arranges for an old-school portrait painter to come and paint the Cullens in grand style. I’m sort of imagining them either in classical Greek/Roman dress, or some sort of medieval royalty vibe. Most of the family doesn’t know what to think of it, but Carlisle just sort of shrugs and like “this is the fifth one of these I’ve sat for.” And honestly vampires would make great subjects for painting/drawing because they can stay perfectly still for long periods when humans can’t.

I just realized I left out Bella/Renesmee. I always do this, because in my head the world of Twilight kind of exists in this Eclipse-era limbo where Bella’s still human and E/B aren’t married yet. But if they were there, I think Bella and Renata would hit it off as shields, and Renata seems pretty chill, like the Angela Weber of the Volturi. Renesmee tries to make friends with Jane and Alec but I don’t know how successful she’d be. She’s got more in common with them than she would with Claire, though. She’s way more advances than normal three-year-old Claire and will age past her quickly. Maybe she also befriends Chelsea and Afton? Renesmee’s been inspiring supernatural devotion and loyalty in people since the moment she was born, and being the center of attention is exhausting and maybe sometimes she’d like to disappear.

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corabelle-serafin-blog · 5 years

Photo

CORA BELLE SERAFIN

{ KAYA SCODELARIO, 26, FEMALE } ☾ - CORA BELLE SERAFIN has been seen walking around town. Hazelgrove is familiar of the TWENTY-SIX year old TIMBERWOOD PACK WEREWOLF as SHE is IN FAVOR OF restoring the town’s Glamour spell. The people of Hazelgrove can agree that the BAKER can be COMPASSIONATE yet still be SELF DESTRUCTIVE. Let’s just hope something can be settled before the town is turned upside town. + blueberry pie cooling on a windowsill, the bitter taste of betrayal, a heart overflowing with too much love and too much hate. { dez, 23, she/her, est }

HISTORY

Cora is born in a small southern town. She has one older sibling and one younger one, and her parents are strict, overbearing, and religious.

Her parents demand nothing less than their idea of perfection. She’s expected to ace all of her classes, to never speak out of turn, to dress in a very precise way, to never even consider doing anything even remotely sinful or inappropriate or unbefitting. Cora spends her entire childhood struggling to live up to their expectations, and for years she’s the whole town’s Golden Child - The Pristine.

The cracks start to appear when she’s fifteen; the pressure is only growing, and she’s starting to buckle. Every tiny mistake feels like the world is ending and she doesn’t think she can keep living this way. By sixteen, she’s become the local Fallen Angel. Her grades have dropped and her cheerful nature has given way to depression. The adults look at her in disappointment; they never think to offer her a helping hand. Her parents are absolutely horrified to find their perfect little doll acting less than perfect.

She meets him the summer she turns seventeen. He’s a little older than she is, and she’s everything she’s been taught to avoid - just some low class bad boy who blew into town - but he treats her like a person instead of a doll, and he finds her flaws endearing, and she feels the weight lift off her shoulders whenever he’s around. Her parents hate him, but that only make him more enticing.

She’s a little frightened when he first tells her he’s a werewolf, but he sweeps her up into the romanticism of it all. She knows as soon as she’s been turned that she’d probably made a mistake. She confides in her family, and react with horror and disgust - she’s told she’s never welcome home again.

With nowhere else to go, Cora leave town with her boyfriend. They move into a tiny apartment in a big city, and Cora starts working as a waitress in a greasy diner, and later takes up a second job in a greasier strip club. It’s a struggle adjusting to so much - her life has, in the blink of an eye, changed completely. But she’s still very much in love, and the pair are doing the best they can, and she can honestly say she’s happe at least some of the time. And then one day, he disappears. Her boyfriend is simply gone - and he’s taken his half of the rent money with him.

Cora is gutted. She sells everything they own and spends the next year wandering the country and living out of her car, just trying to figure out who and what she is now. She’s spent her whole life living by someone else’s script and to be so completely alone now is terrifying, but there’s a sense of freedom to it, too. She has no one’s opinion to listen to but her own, and she learns things about herself she hadn’t known. She learns that she’s resourceful, and strong, and brave - and has a serious weakness for cheap whiskey and pretty faces. ( and not just men’s faces, either, which comes as a bit of a surprise - but what’s the harm in adding one more thing her parents would hate her for to the pile when she’s already been excommunicated? )

Her self-destructive self-discovery journey comes to an end when she gets a little in over her head and gets caught up in a pretty rough bar fight. Another supernatural takes pity on the young wolf, pulling her from the fight and giving her a place to sleep and lick her wounds for the night, before sending her towards Hazelgrove. Cora is a little skeptical of it all at first. She hasn’t been given much reason to trust other werewolves, and the idea of a pack is entirely foreign to her, but she finds support and understanding and community among the Timberwood pack, and they quickly win her loyalty.

Cora has been a member of the Timberwood Pack and a resident of Hazelgrove for about five years now.

BULLET POINTS

Cora has always loved to bake - probably because she’s always had a serious sweet tooth. Her sweets are pretty excellent, if she does say so herself. ( and she does, all the time ) She works at Ginger’s Snap Bakery, but can also persuaded to deliver tins of homemade cookies or pastries for a few extra bucks. Perfect for satisfying late night sugar cravings, or getting your hands on a delicious donut without having to ditch work.

Anyone who knew a young Cora wouldn’t really recognize her today. Gone is the quiet, obedient, gentle youth - Cora is bold, impulsive, loud, and proud. She doesn’t hold her tongue, and she doesn’t hold back. If she wants to do something, she does it, no questions asked. She’s sick and tired of being what others want to be. The big exception to this is, of course, the Timberwood Alpha. She’s a little wild, but she’s loyal to the core, and the alpha’s word is law.

Though she’s changed a lot, one thing she never lost was is her kindness. She’s a compassionate person; she feels for people. She’s the kind of person you can ask for favors, without worrying she’ll make you jump through hoops. The kind of friend who’ll show up at your front door with a box of freshly baked cookies and a bottle of booze when you’re having a bad day. She never hesitates to lend a hand to a stranger. Cora knows this has, can, and will get her into trouble sometimes. A lot of people can’t be trusted, and a lot of them are willing to take advantage of kindness, but she doesn’t see why she should change who she is just because there are assholes in the world. She knows she’s strong enough to survive being hurt, so why worry so much about it?

Cora is also ... still very much weak for both whiskey and pretty faces. Especially for anyone with a bad boy vibe. She likes to visit Satin Lounge or hang out at the Ink Addicts’ bar during her free time. Get a little drunk, flirt with a few regulars, have a little fun. She just enjoys a harmless good time. Every now and then, she lets someone take her home.

Cora’s really understanding and accepting. Probably too much so. She should honestly probably question things and people more, but most things just slide right off her back. She’s also really easy to befriend. Just don’t fuck her over specifically, and you’re probably good.

Cora is definitely still lowkey struggling with depression and the effects of a shitty childhood but she’s hardcore repressing that shit.

Almost definitely gets herself into trouble by hanging out with the wrong people.

She’s a disaster but like, in a fun way, so it’s cool, right?

Pinterest! Probably like at least a third of it is baking related because baking is pretty.

Cora has a couple of wanted connections up over here. The person who sent her to Hazelgrove could be an open connection too. She’s open for pretty much any kinda connection. Friends, frienemies, enemies, flings, ex-flings, baby daddies, frequent customers. Whatever floats your boat. Just hit me up if you wanna plot or just ramble about you character’s opinion about mine or whatever; I am all ears and up for all.

#mystichq:intro #☾ ┈ ♥ ABOUT ♥ ┈ ☽ ☾ ┈ ♥ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵈᵃʸˢ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶤᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ʰᵉʳ ᵃᵖᵃʳᵗ ♥ ┈ ☽

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seenashwrite · 6 years

Note

Dearest Nash, I've touched on this before in (I believe) in a discussion re: why some mainstream fics get oodles of notes while more original ones do not, *but* I wanted to get a bit more specific here. There are certain writers here whose writing has a definite vibe to it (if you will) that separates their work from others, and your name is one of the first that comes to mind. Bear with me, because trying to detail what makes your writing stand out is difficult while trying to articulate a Q

^ this is a gif with parts 2 - 4, just FYI

Hmmm… this is a bit of a brain buster. But I can answer it, and I think succinctly, maybe with a touch of that Spidey sense you mention:

Thank you for your inquiry, hope that helps!

I kid. But this is a brain-turner. And a characteristic which, like you say, ain’t limited to me. I’d honestly throw comedians under this umbrella, too, not because I’m necessarily gunning for a laugh every time, but because it’s pretty much their job to take a “basic” (a tenet or fact of life or present reality or whatever) and present the observation with a twist. I think of storyteller comedians specifically, your Patton Oswalt-s, Maria Bamford-s, Kathy Griffin-s, and John Mulaney-s.

So if I can sum up, assuming I’m tracking with you, what you’re more or less driving at with the “how” is this –> Is there anything beyond simply personality, or an auto-pilot thought cascade (for lack of better terminology) that contributes? Are there things someone could do/be proactive about, to perhaps cause this same sort of reaction to happen in their brain?

I think there just might be.

Folks reading this, let me ask you a question, and you cannot look it up:

What was the name of the Sherpa guide who led Sir Edmund Hillary up Mount Everest?

His name was Tenzing Norgay.

Nash, what in the name of the frozen corpse of George Mallory does this have to do with Lion’s question?

I shall tell you.

My father told me that fact when I was quite young, so young I legit couldn’t even ballpark my age for you. The context was that having little facts tucked away in your brain may come in handy. Not in a Jeopardy kind of way, more in a conversational way. I’ve no idea why the man thought the Sherpa guide who led Hillary up Mt. Everest would ever come up during a conversation with enough regularity to justify my knowing that fact (aside from him randomly quizzing me throughout my life) but hey, I guess it just did.

But speaking of Lil’ Nash, the situation for her was that she was the eldest of all the Nash litter by miles… like seven or eight years, I’m not bothering to check. So I had a lot of alone time, and my grandmother was my chief babysitter, so prior to kindergarten and then til I was in about second grade (so: all day long during the week, then every weekday after she picked me up from school), I was pretty much always at her house. Yeah, there were toys, but not a lot to do. And I’d read. I’d been reading on my own for a decent while, not because I was some prodigy but because my dad read to me *constantly* when Lil’ Nash was Itty-Bitty Nash, and it “took”. My mom also, every time she went to the grocery store always - and I mean always - brought back a book for me. It might’ve been an Archie comic—-

Mandatory #fuck the CW’s Riverdale tag

—-or a Babysitter’s Club, or Sweet Valley High, Judy Blume, Madeleine L’Engle, Zilpha Keatley Snyder, you get my point. Some small paperback. It would piss Dad off because he’s a cheap bastard and two buck books once or twice a month were really gonna cut into the savings [eyeroll] but also, in a way, because I’d kill it in a half day/a day. Wouldn’t put it down. After awhile, I started writing my own silly little kid stories, then - and this is where the creative writing love came about - I started writing soap operas for my Barbies. (When I was older - like, 5th grade? 6th grade, maybe? - none of my peers were still playing with Barbies, and I got made fun of when, at a sleepover, they saw my stash. And I was like - No, no, no. Those aren’t for playing. That’s my cast.)

Time went on, and when I was bored at post-church lunch/dinners, I would also read the old encyclopedias at my grandmother’s, the ones from the late ‘60s/early ‘70s that she had for my mom and my aunt. As I got even older and became fascinated with rooting through the boxes in gran’s basement, looking at all the cool old clothes, I stumbled upon my aunt’s collection of Whoa-Hooooo Shit There’s No Way My Grandparents Knew You Read These books. Those kinda Harlequin-esque ones, except my aunt’s tastes run close to mine, none were the same shtick with different covers, shmultzy-sappy romance, there was always some sort of intrigue along with the sexy times, and she also had, like, every legit V. C. Andrews (meaning: not the ones from the ghostwriter, this was way before her death) book.

What is my point? I read a LOT. Now-a-days, other than fanfic (which… straight up: I don’t read a lot of that, either. I peace out on probs 80% of it before the third-to-fifth paragraph. It’s gotta sell me fast, yo) I haven’t read fiction in probably, oh…. 12 years? I think the last ones were the first couple Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Wait, no! I lie! I read the 50 Shades books when I was traveling 2x/wk for a job about 4 years ago, and I needed the laughs. It worked. Oh my days, that woman can’t write. The screenplay might’ve been worse, it goes her, then Buckleming, then everyone else. It’s bad. In any event, past decade or so, it’s more historical stuff and true crime and science stuff and all that old fart jazz.

Okay, so that’s #1: Read. And not just anything, be well-read, and that doesn’t mean developing some level of expertise, by “well” I’m saying to cover the spread. You’re building your tool kit, is all. You won’t use most of it, but it’s nice to have options. You also don’t always have to get this stuff from reading now-a-days, because podcasts. Cover the spread there, too. Lemme look at my bookmarks….

[Spongebob narrator voice: A few moments later]

I’m back. Science - Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe; General current stuff without being news - CGP Grey’s Hello Internet; current events with shittons of pop culture, past and present - Greg Proops’ Smartest Man in the World; fun history stuff - The Dollop; entertainment stuff - How Did This Get Made.

#2: Keep a notebook with you and jot down turns-of-phrase that spark something in your brain - things you read on websites, on twitter, in articles, things you hear people say (real life, TV, movies, podcasts), and write it. Don’t snap a pic with your phone or make a note in your phone. There are studies behind this, I’m not hunting them down, you’ll just have to trust me, but there are, and it goes to being reflexive, a brain “muscle memory” thing, if you will. You’re not doing it to plagiarize, you’re doing it to dissect it, kind’ve like you did with the example you gave on me —> went from punch action to punch spiked with booze to a punch with a spiked gauntlet.

Which leads to #3: Mental dictionary. I have a large vocab repository, and it stems from the tons of reading - I stop and look up stuff if I either don’t know it, or it’s used in such a way that I think they’ve got it wrong and want to double-check that maybe there’s another usage I don’t know - and also stems from a drive to combat the (still fairly thick) deep South drawl I can’t kick, and not for lack of trying. But see, I couldn’t have whipped out that progression if I weren’t aware that one definition of “spike” is “to add alcohol to”, or of the common shtick in stories of spiked punch like at high school proms typically, or knew about the existence of spiked gauntlets / old school armor.

And I guarantee you that a good chunk of people didn’t really “get it”, and just thought “Nash Be Nashin’, that nutty gal”. So they “get it” on that level, but don’t Get. It., if you see what I’m saying. And that’s fine. Maybe it got something cranking in the back of their mind and it’ll hit ‘em in the middle of the night, or they’ll be watching Game of Thrones or something, see a gauntlet and be like “Oh goddamnit, I just got a throw-a-way one-liner from three years ago” and have a chuckle.

Related, re: looking stuff up and things that people “get”? I didn’t know fuck-all about Twilight, but it seemed of import to the folks around 5 years younger than me, the Nashlings wouldn’t shut up about it, so I got a good working knowledge of it. Same with Harry Potter, and through it I got to “know” J.K. Rowling, who I find to be an exceptional writer, so that was great, and I’ve watched the movies for the most part over the years at Christmastime, and I don’t give the first shit about what “house” I’m in, nor do I care about what Patronus I’d fart, but I have a working knowledge of what those are, and horcruxes and who Snape and Voldie are, you get my point. I can keep up. But to do it, I had to take the time to look it up. One thing I would not trade for gold is Michael Sheen chewing the goddamn scenery in that battle segment from the last Twilight movie. Have I watched the movie? No. But that scene is the shit. And that baby CGI is horrific on several subtle levels. And not-so-subtle. I’ve digressed.

Back to those notes: So if you’ve got these notes jotted, you might see something else and think “I feel like that could’ve been snappier…. why do I think that….” And you’ve got a resource at your disposal, that little notebook. Hell, jot that thing down - things you think could be done better. I have in many documents a highlight around chunks of scenes for my big dog story where it says in bold above or below “DO BETTER”. Meaning: there’s a better way to get from A to B, but I’m just not quite there yet. I’m pretty quick on the uptake and can crank out something snappy on the fly (like say, in CASPN chat or when banging out a short reply or thank you note) but there’s definitely times I gotta slap a DO BETTER on it and walk away til that snappy something-or-other light bulb goes off.

Here’s a recent one where I backtracked, matter of fact - that noir spoof thing I wrote? Along with my co-writer, Moscato? There was a line that I couldn’t hit with a good zinger, so I just said moments were going by like a fat hamster on a wheel, which is cute, but not really grooving with the setting/the vibe. Less tipsy, when I was correcting some inelegant formatting and a misspelling [sigh], I went “Oh! Why didn’t this occur to me last night? Right. Wine.” So the line is now about moments dragging like a rolling donut with a copper on its tail. Get it? The cop’s a fat ass. The donut-cop stereotype.

…….Fine, it ain’t my best, but it fits better. Moving on.

And this leads nicely into #4, and a specific tip I can impart - assuming you’ve got a passable-to-high level of vocabulary in your tool belt, practice messing around with making nouns into verbs, and twisting random stuff into descriptors and using bizarre words/things in metaphors/analogies. Like, I say “adulting” quite a bit. Ali - @littlegreenplasticsoldier - I thiiiink was writing recently about Sam being drunk, and he’s a tall wobbly Jenga tower on his last Jenga. Going back to the noir, pulpy detective style, try messing with the whole “S/he was like a ___ that ____”. Add on to stuff that’s well known - He was like a dog with a bone, if the bone was a ____ and he was a ____ and we were in a ____. (I have *nothing* in mind to fill those blanks, by the way, feel free to twist it into sumpin’)

What else…. okay, here’s a #5: In drafts, let yourself wander, and see what kicks out. It can be fueled by silliness or anger, but I don’t reckon you’re gonna get the “snappy” you’re aiming for if you’re down in the dumps and going full-court-press angst. The best stuff, IMO, comes from the space in between goofy and pissed, and that is The Land Of Snark. You can always re-style it to bend more dry or wistful should you need to, certainly, depending on the situation.

Have a sample of a primo Nash Digression that was fueled by ire in a recap from Season 12 (episode 19). I had said - RE: the random inclusion of the character Joshua, which still pisses me off because they burned a character that held massive potential for future stuff as he’d been shown to be the only angel with direct access to Chuck, so, y’know, that could never come in handy, like ever again in the series, right? - the following.

Mandatory pre-emptive #fuck Dabb

[Spongebob narrator voice] A few moments later —>

On god, I have no idea where that came from, and here’s where we go back to ol’ Spidey up there, because end of the day?

All that other stuff’s the foundation, sure, but there’s always gonna be the weird iggy, the thing that can’t be learned or taught, whatever the quirky synapse is that fires off in my/our brains. In my experience, it’s an ADD-ish sort of jam mixed with the Nostradamus effect. Meaning, (A) we’re at Level 10, rapid fire thought processing >50% of the time, and (B) throw out enough stuff for long enough, some of it’s going to stick. And I whiff it plenty. Multiple times in CASPN chat I’ve been like “Whoo, tough room” when something falls flat.

A specific example: @mrswhozeewhatsis - and I think you saw this, but anyone else seeing this may not have - gave probably the most fantastic analogy I’ve seen regarding the whole “getting it” thing, and while it was on the topic of meaty plots that get too far into the weeds (my specialty) and how it can lessen appeal to a broader audience, it still applies here.

She said “Sometimes, when I’m reading something of yours, I feel like there’s a joke I’m missing. It’s like watching Spaceballs without having seen Star Wars.” I say that to say - nobody’s gonna land references that cover the spread 100% of the time. And, y’know, fine. I figure maybe it’ll prompt someone to do a quick google for - well, let’s use Spaceballs. Most folks will no doubt get the Star Wars part, but maybe not Spaceballs. Maybe they’ll check it out, find something they enjoy. Or learn a new word. Or get a brainstorm for a story. Who knows?

Last tip: Don’t actively mimic anyone’s style. Much fail. And I don’t only mean because if they’re on a social Venn diagram with you, would likely recognize themselves in your stuff——

Takes a moment to wave to the peeps still trying with me! #bless your hearts

—–but because it’s fucking hard. I did it broadly on the noir thing, that’s not a hard thing, to homage generalities, but the way I’m messing with doing this on that silly Princess Bride series? Purposefully styling it like Goldman? It’s good challenging and all, and it is making it feel more in the groove with the book/movie, but I have to be in the right frame of mind or it’s like fingernails on a chalkboard, and when I have pushed it, then gone back, it’s sloggy, soggy garbage.

I say all that to say: it’s an amalgam of brain-wiring/personality, and world/life perspective(s), and knowledge acquired over time. The first just is; the second will evolve in myriad ways, maybe for the better, maybe for the worse; the last is the one where you/we have control, we can fill bucket after bucket of information, and the well won’t ever run dry.

Sorry this took so long. I kept adding and subtracting. This is the edited version, if you can believe it. Welcome to Nash Brain. 😉

#Dear Nash #becominglionhearted #Writing Advice #and / or #Writing Stuff #maybe #Writing Tips #unsure #we'll go with all of it #ah I know #Writing Style #that's the ticket #Queueby Dooby Doo #Dad's on a blog post and #he hasn't been queued in a few days

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idolizerp · 6 years

Photo

[ LOADING INFORMATION ON VIVID’S MAIN DANCE MOON MONA…. ]

DETAILS

CURRENT AGE: 23 DEBUT AGE: 16 SKILL POINTS: 15 VOCAL | 15 DANCE | 00 RAP | 10 PERFORMANCE SECONDARY SKILLS: Multi-instrumentalist (guitar, piano)

INTERVIEW

debuting fresh off her sixteenth birthday, moon mona was perhaps an atypical choice for the group. they came onto the scene with an image that began already rather sexually charged, veiled in short bloomer style shorts and pastel colors, as if that were less affronting, less obvious, as if there weren’t suddenly and immediately eyes all over the young girl, surprise that she was a minor, that someone so young could look like that.

in fact, she probably shouldn’t have debuted that young at all. there is something inherently damaging in entering the public eye that early. the scrutiny wears at you, an endless tide beating against crags and cliffs until they wear smooth as sea glass.

many times, this is how mona feels.

a wild child plucked from the streets of jeju, from backroads where sand blows over the asphalt on the breeze that carries with it the scent of the ocean. maybe this is why she so easily melts into the role of summer goddess when it is bequeathed to her. she has the energy and power of the ocean, she thinks fondly, when she watches herself dance. this is what they capitalize on. she has a sensuality beyond her years, a grace that defies age, a presence that commands attention.

it disappears offstage into a flurry of eye smiles and half hidden laughter, tucked behind a hand that trembles just a little bit, nervous still under the direct glare of the camera, the lights. she’s young when she debuts, and foolish, and the image that they have her selling - relatable, girl next door, but impossibly hot - is one that both suits her and stifles her.

she isn’t the strongest at either skill. she doesn’t have the range to sing main, with her voice lending itself to a certain mellow, husky timbre. as she gets older and her voice continues to change and develop, it moves further into this range, and farther from the expected idol falsetto filled soprano. but she manages within her range just fine. her live performances are stable and day by day, more and more, she commands attention. she draws eyes. it covers her shortcomings, the way she can move, the look in her gaze. they chalk it up to a natural sex appeal. mona could wear a potato sack and still look like a million bucks, still have fans knocking at her door, that’s what they say.

at eighteen, nineteen, even twenty the comments make her uncomfortable. by twenty one she doesn’t really watch her parts in their videos anymore. she knows what they’ll focus on, how the camera will pan over toned thighs or the curve of her ass, or her chest, she knows the look in her eyes because she’s spent hours practicing it in front of the practice room mirrors. it all feels so hollow, but it sells like hotcakes. as their concepts become more sexual, mona shines more and more, despite herself, reluctant to capitalize on something that makes her feel so uncertain, like the weight of eyes sinks beneath her skin to make it crawl.

she can feel herself changing, day by day, under the weight of a thousand eyes, purposefully smoothing out the rough edges of herself, until she is polished and shining and pristine. effortless in her casual charm, in her relatable silliness, in the way she can so naturally shine with a sincerity that doesn’t seem half so manufactured as it is.

maybe it’s not. maybe this is who she is now, changed by the constant weathering of the sea. featureless and shining, polished until she is devoid of anything, a mirror held up to reflect the image men want to see in her. because let’s be honest, she was placed in the group not for her outstanding talent, but for her visual appeal, even then. curves in the right places, a warmth and charm that drew in the viewer, a gap between on stage and off that compelled fascination. mostly, mona is just glad they can’t see that she’s tired of this. of the same sultry themes, the same lurid movements; suggestive but tasteful, they claim. she’s very well trained, she thinks, because she never rolls her eyes half so hard as she might want too.

and she gets the sort of rumors that the hypersexualized type tend to get, and then some. she takes a hiatus due to a bout of pneumonia contracted from the flu gone untreated, and there are malevolent rumors that she’s gotten an abortion, rumors the company finally, this time, steps up to smack down, to sue those who are propagating them. but even after, the menial ones continue. is she dating this one or that one, is she posing like that on purpose? did she get her boobs done, are they real, is she showing them off? why does she try so hard, doesn’t she know this is trashy, isn’t this inappropriate? can’t she do anything but dance and make those faces, doesn’t she have anything else to show us? isn’t it always the same?it is, mona wants to tell them. it is always the same, because that’s what you all wanted. that’s what’s selling my albums and my merchandise. that’s why i’ve had a dietician and a trainer since i was sixteen years old, that’s why i spent my childhood smiling at leering middle aged men. and now you want me to do something else?

she’d like too, sure. she dreams of an artsy, lo-fi album. something folk inspired maybe, just her and a guitar and some producers to fill in the gaps. but the company knows no one wants that, they tell her. no one wants that from moon mona of heaven. they want a toned body and a bright smile and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, they want long hair in artfully done waves that suggest she might just have left the ocean. and she can give that to them, so why risk anything else?

but she does. god, does she want to risk it. hones skills that aren’t hers to advertise, practices her vocals until she could rival the other members, maybe, if anyone would give her some lines. if anyone would let her sing. she works her way relentlessly towards the distant promise of a solo career, towards her desires to produce music she can be proud of. with their contracts arriving at expiration soon the company begins to yield to her desires, but alway sin their own way, always in their own manner. she’ll take it, she thinks, she’ll take whatever she can get.

and so mona is seaglass. weathered and unchanging, polished to a smooth shine. featureless but beautiful, meant to be admired, touched, and then put away again to keep for another summer day.

BIOGRAPHY

MOON MONA is born at the stroke of midnight, which might have meant something magical and mysterious in another story, but in this one, it means only that her mother had a little tidbit of a story to share about her midnight baby. The seaside hospital was perfectly well equipped and her mother faced no difficulties with the delivery, other than the usual. Her father was - and remains - quite typical of his generation. Fifteen years older than her mother, he was smoking outside when Mona was born, and would remain sort of blandly absent for the remainder of their relationship. Mona holds no ill will here. In a rapidly developing society, he is undoubtedly the product of his time and not of her own. Not even of her mother’s, somehow.

Her mother is a lecturer at a nearby school - a small affair, nothing notable. She teaches biology to freshmen and an upper level botany course and Mona is surrounded by flowers and the sea from birth. The young girl is tangled in them, in the smell of fresh cut grass and salt spray, flowers braided into her hair during long hours in the fields on the edges of town, only a bus ride away.

She loves the bus, loves to stare out the window as it rattles and lurches through the town. When she gets older, her indomitable will and unstoppable energy demand trips to the nearby city to go to dance classes. She’s grown tired of the basic fare offered her in her smaller town, and so an hour off she rides, thumping along the road and dozing between stops. As she grows older and her interest refuses to wane her mother expresses gentle discouragement and her father nods in distracted agreement in the corner.

Perhaps the most attention either of them pay to her, she thinks later, is when she skips school to attend auditions for the first time. They’re furious of course, at the call from the school, at the fact she hadn’t answered her phone, at the fact she dared run off to audition at all. What a stupid pipe dream, they tell her. Do you think we moved to Busan for this, so you could gallivant off to the capital and do whatever you want?

The move had upset her, honestly. Stealing her home away had been the most intolerable cruelty for a girl of thirteen, had unleashed a rebellious fury only the unbridled ocean and other parents of teenage girls with strong wills and fierce eyes could imagine, or hope to match.

So at thirteen Mona’s willful teenage form of rebellion is to pursue a pointless dream, spurred on by her fondness for the likes of SNSD and the Wonder Girls. She copies choreography, she practices singing, begs her way into continuing vocal lessons. She skips after school classes to put in more hours dancing or singing, she spends her time making faces in the mirror and wielding a hairbrush, as so many do.

The difference is that one day, someone sees something in her.

She’s promising they tell her. She has a look, a vibe, and how old is she right now? They don’t seem deterred by her confident answer of fourteen, just take a step back to examine her, ask if she can sing, or dance maybe, and are pleased when she answers to the affirmative. She should have known then, taking the card, turning up for the audition, that they’d been more sold on her face, her figure than anything else. But she was young, and she was foolish, and she had a silly little dream, as her mother might say.

The second time her family really, really notices her is when she explains she’s thinking of moving in with her aunt while she trains.

Her father is distractedly horrified, perhaps more because he should be than because he’s actually unhappy about it, and her mother has sort of just given up on the idea of an academically inclined daughter, a daughter she could maybe relate too, in some way. There isn’t an attempt to meet Mona at her level, to get to know her, or why she loves dance so much. They dismiss these things as childish whims, tell her to come home when she’s ready.

She debuts instead.

In an instant her life changes. Immediately she becomes frozen in time, it seems. Mentally she feels still as though she never quite left that moment of being a naive sixteen year old, practicing choreography designed to put more than mildly inappropriate thoughts into the heads of viewers, thrilled because this was her big chance, her big break. Foolish, ultimately, but not untrue.

She has made it, after all. At twenty three she’s established a name for herself, a brand. That brand might not be one she wants, nor one she is comfortable with, but it sells. Sex always sells, and until she hits that magical age at which women cease to appeal to men sexually on a general level, and then she’ll retire and do something like mediocre acting or variety or nothing, just get married and fade away. She’s done things that make her sick, has lived experiences that make her ill, producers with wandering hands and comedians and hosts who think it all too acceptable to push advances on her based only on an image portrayed on screen, assigned her by the lustful masses, faceless commenters that feel it acceptable to nitpick her body, her styling, her sexuality, her appeal.

Mona is seaglass. She would like to be a flower, taking root and blooming, growing day by day, flourishing, flowering. But Mona is not life and greenery, she is not reaching and seeking. She is sea glass, polished and glimmering, appealing in the moment and ultimately discarded.

#id.bio #id.vivid #id.midas #id.kim chungha #id.revamp

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gaming-rabbot · 7 years

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Rabbot Reviews: Night in the Woods

Painfully relatable, wonderfully colorful, delightfully charming, and exasperatingly existential.

Imagine a much tamer BoJack Horseman, with a colorful flourish and sense of nostalgia reminiscent of Hotline Miami, mixed with the millennial Scooby-Doo gang vibe of Oxenfree. Also imagine if Life is Strange felt less artificial with its blatant farce of an attempt at understanding hip kid lingo, and that Firewatch actually bothered going somewhere with its thriller esque setup and plot hooks.

That’s a jumbled mess of words, but also a perfect descriptor for the subject of this review: Night in the Woods.

Night in the Woods stars the unassuming Mae Borrowski, a 20 year old college dropout who has returned to her podunk, middle-of-nowhere, boring town, where nothing good ever happened to anybody, least of all Mae.

Upon return, she’s met with passive-aggression spiced concern from parents who honestly just want to know what their only child is going through, and friends who all either already have or are in the process of growing up and moving on in life. Thus, her return meant to ease her back into the comforts of nostalgia and something resembling normalcy only seem to cause her more anxiety and strife.

Also the crushingly slow and depressing realization that life has no meaning and nothing we do in the universe actually matters. But hey, one thing at a time, right guys?

Last call for a (mild) spoiler warning.

The very first thing to note is that Night in the Woods is a certain type of game. And if you grit your teeth and practically feel your blood boil at the very thought of this type of game, first I might suggest seeing a doctor, but second and more importantly, NitW more than likely will not change your mind about this type of game.

I am referring, of course, to the ever-fun and totally-never-controversial-topic, the walking simulator. Where things like failure states scarcely show their faces, and gameplay mostly takes a backseat to narrative.

And by backseat, this sometimes means a bus. A very long bus.

I’ve talked about it before, but nobody reads my reviews, so I’ll say it again: I personally have absolutely no qualm nor quibble with the existence of this new and befuddling genre of video game. At least, not at face value. When the only thing a game is properly offering is a narrative, then I won’t hold that against the game, so long as said narrative can deliver. Not like Firewatch or Life is Strange, where the lack of an actual game further hampers the lack of a good or wholly competent story.

Besides, variety is the spice of life, my friend, despite what certain YouTube personalities will tell you. And a diverse offering of games means a diverse offering of self-proclaimed “gamers,” which goes on to mean the industry can only grow and get better as a whole with market expansion. You know, the only good part of capitalism; more media getting produced to the point where that incredibly niche thing you always wanted to see get made, well, finally getting made.

You know the one.

More to the point, I ask that narrative heavy games deliver. And deliver Night in the Woods did, with a fairly agreeable amount of competence.

It is at this point in the review, where the review has yet to actually begin, that I’d like to announce that I had been looking forward to this game for three years, ever since I first laid eyes on the Kickstarter trailer.

(Which, by the way, this game was funded via Kickstarter, so take that extra tidbit for what you will. I know it’s a touchy subject after things like Mighty No. 9.)

After which point, however, the game experienced something like three or four release delays, which speaks to me of a dev team possibly severely underestimating how long it takes to actually make a game. Or overestimating their own capabilities? Who knows.

Part of me worries that I can’t be objective, though. The game seemed to have won my heart long before I’d ever get to see a finished product. Could I have been blinded by my bias?

No. The answer is no.

Almost entirely for those aforementioned, nigh-constant release delays. Couple that with Infinite Falls putting out not one, but two mini games set in universe, instead of, oh I don’t know, the game people paid them to make? In an ounce of fairness, I’ve come to retroactively appreciate said mini games, as they do add to the lore.

And I’m a sucker for lore.

Perhaps I’m being petty, and somehow retroactively less petty, but my bias and unconditional love and goodwill slowly faded in direct relation to every year after the originally announced release date I had to wait. And as I sat down to start, and even as I completed the game, I asked myself: was it worth the wait?

Mm. Yeah, pretty much.

Okay, I should probably slow down. Maybe give some kind of buildup before spilling the final thoughts all out like that.

One of the first things you notice about Evening in the Forest, aside from how humorously long it takes to actually see all the characters in the woods at night time, is the screen constantly saturated with lots of orange, red, and brown. The fall colors are heavily emphasized, not merely because that’s the season the story takes place in, but the colors are exaggeratedly warm, so to match the cozy comforts the protagonist, Mae (remember Mae?), is seeking to feel deep down in her guts again.

But rather than that being the case, Mae’s hometown immediately feels cold and unfamiliar, which the game emphasizes by instead starting you off on the outskirts in the dead of night mostly by yourself. And the game world is introduced with lots of dark colors, mainly blues.

It’s easy to tell that color-play was set to be a key design aesthetic early in development.

This is matched and mirrored as even the primary cast are color coded in much the same way. Mae’s parents who forgot about her first night back are both dark, ash gray; cold. Gregg gives Mae the most excited welcome back of the crew, and he’s a ruddy orange; warm. Bea is distant at first, making undercutting jabs at Mae’s character, and she’s a muted teal; cold. Finally, Angus is friendly enough, if a tad mellow, and he’s the brown bear (who’s also a bear, ha (bam, super funny, original joke)); yeah, pretty warm.

The next to overkill levels of clear-cut color-play give the game a sort of story book vibe, which is further highlighted by the simple shapes that make up the models and the cartoonish proportions all the characters have; e.g., eyes make up a third of the real estate on any given face, which can sometimes be as tall or wide as the body it’s sitting on.

The bright, saturated, vivid colors of any given background, the color coding of warm and cold characters, the toony looks; it all drives home to evoke that very same feeling of familiarity and nostalgia Mae is seeking at the start of the game. As though to remind the player of simpler, more innocent times. It’s waking up on a Saturday morning at a young age to watch cartoons, that sort of thing. It’s the charming bait that demands your attention first. And the player, much like Mae, finds the hook a lot less charming with the panged stings of being proverbially stabbed by a cold and indifferent reality.

Reality tends to set in on this game like a sack of bricks. I found myself saying “that got a little too real there for a sec” so often, I figure it may as well be on the box.

(Well. You know. If the game had a box.)

It’s around this point, after the main cast is thoroughly introduced, that the game starts to really pick up. The pacing is solid enough; I never felt complacent, like I was waiting for the next bit of plot to happen. It’s slow exactly when and where it needs to feel slow. And for the rest of the time, the game is throwing sudden Guitar Hero segments at you.

When chatting with a friend about this, he admitted he found Mae’s movement speed plodding and felt it dragged the pacing down too much. It’s not something that bothered me, but I can see where there’s a case for it.

Here’s where the more “gamey,” for lack of a better term, side of the game comes in. At various intervals, the game will introduce a brand new mini game with its own self-contained set of mechanics. There’s a lot of variety here, and for the most part, they never outstay their welcome.

The only properly recurring one is the bass-playing segment. And though it’s possible to fail these (very possible in the case of the Pumpkin Head Guy song), the game will carry on regardless. In a way, Night in the Woods does actually have failure states, but the player doesn’t lose any progress when it happens.

Then the gang finds a severed arm!

Around that part, though, the game introduces a game within the game, in the form of a game on Mae’s laptop by the name of Demontower. And what a pleasant surprise, it’s a decent all around top down slash and dash, action affair. The amount of effort that went into it is shocking, considering it could’ve easily just been a cute little one-off gag. But no, it’s a completely legitimate game, with a full tale, its own set of mechanics, and several decently challenging boss fights punctuating each randomized level.

It’s the kind of thing I’d pay maybe ten bucks for (usd), but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the value of my purchase with NitW go up a bit, considering there’s basically two games for the price of one here. Plus it might just placate one who finds dialogue heavy games dull. Who knows, but it’s a stellar addition either way.

I also adore that the developers wasted no opportunity to try and enhance their story, as they even worked symbolism relevant to the story at hand into the miniature side game on Mae’s laptop. The very first boss of any Demontower run looks remarkably like a certain muted teal gothic gator girl.

But, and here’s the kicker: this boss doesn’t do anything, and dies in one hit.

Surely it’s a reference to Bea’s semi-combative nature toward Mae at the start, and how easily that folds away when she remembers their shared history. It’s a really unnecessary metaphor they didn’t have to include, but it stuck with me that they even did. Although, in the interest of fairness, I feel I must admit it’s not exactly subtle.

In fact, it’s about as subtle as that severed arm I mentioned earlier, then stopped talking about.

I did this to draw comparison the somewhat noticeable lull between traumatic and supernatural events. Because while I said the story beats in of themselves never felt too far apart, I have to admit, again in fairness, that it seems to take a good while for the payoff of things like this. I will say though, payoff does come in due time, and NitW more or less sticks the landing well enough.

Take the backstory of Mae beating a kid’s face in with a metal bat during her little league game, for example.

To be perfectly frank, I figured the game would never have any kind of payoff for this at all. This or the actual reason why Mae came home from college. The cynic in me is alive and well, and I fully believed the writers would take the easy route and leave it all up to the imagination. But no, they actually explain it all, and explain it fairly well.

Mae has a mental thing where she rarely loses touch with reality, seeing only basic shapes where actual things and people are supposed to be. And a statue at college made up of basic shapes caused a mental relapse in her psyche, sending her spiraling into extremely self-destructive habits she couldn’t break herself out of. I’m certain there’s a proper term for this, but I’m not well read enough to know what it might be.

Effort like that put into creating a solid trunk for the rest of the story to branch off of is grand. And a relief, after dealing with games like Firewatch, where the backstory is so inconsequential, it’s picked out of a seemingly random assortment of vague synopses so as to snugly slot in any old referential dialogue between the bread of real plot.

In that regard, Dusk in the Trees fits nicely on the same shelf of Oxenfree.

Now that I think of it, both games are on that same shelf for a lot of similarities; the gaggle of young adults having complex relationships filled with strife and friction, the overt metaphor of them struggling to deal with supernatural elements where said supernature stands in for the responsible adulthood they’re on the precipice of, branching dialogue options used to explore character relations, the heavy and pervasive sense of nostalgia on the air like so many flitting dust particles in an old abandoned barn at sunset, etc.

Not that I mind having a couple eerily similar games, though. They’re a couple of the only games I’ve ever been able to relate to on such a deeply emotional and personal level. And I feel like that’s kind of the big foundation at the bottom of it all; relatability and realness to keep you grounded amidst all the severed arms, and ghost stories, and murder cults.

Whenever I watched Mae talk to her mom, I felt twinges of chills. Because I could almost swear I’d had those exact conversations with my own mother. We snark at each other in much of the same sarcastic way Mae and her mom do. I’ve even felt similar pressure Mae has about her education and how she’s going to handle the entire rest of her life.

It… hurts. It actually sort of hurts just how relatable this all is.

When walking down the main drag through Possum Springs (the ingame town), deja vu washed over me time and again. The urban decay of old businesses that never seem to last, the new franchised ones that seemingly cropped up from nowhere, the random animal people walking by who remarkably resemble random human people I’ve walked by in my own small, nothing special hometown; it all felt entirely too familiar.

It’s truly astounding how a game where the main character dreams about meeting god, and it’s not absolutely clear whether it actually happened, somehow managed to feel this real to life.

I’ve often commented on how relatability is not the end-all, be-all of good storytelling, let alone good character building. Though it does help, it’s better when the characters are this fun, charming, and sincere. And I feel like the writers really nailed that aspect, instead of relying on all the chest clutching of players like me who felt they’ve been there before.

Whatever smaller qualms I have with the story at large, I can’t deny how hard Infinite Falls got me to fall madly in love with this cast.

This game found me at I feel the perfect time in my life. It’s the angsty teen to young adult adventure I always wanted to see in a video game. This is my “that incredibly niche thing you always wanted to see get made, finally getting made.” And if you’re anything like me, then the story will resonate with you too.

Honestly, I can’t recommend this game enough. It’s not as perfect as I make it sound; there are a few grammar mistakes and a couple graphical issues. But if you can look past that, and gameplay ultimately not being the point, you’ll find a pretty solid, genuine-feeling story.

#rabbot reviews #video games #review #Night in the Woods #mild spoilers #long post

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jammixes-blog · 7 years

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The Refuge...

Let the planet you were born in be your refuge, your haven of peace, and your heart’s home.

Human Life happens so quickly, that’s why it’s so precious. Before we know it, we knew.

Every breath is a sign of life. That’s Good enough. Let’s take it 1 breath at a time as 1 more reason to celebrate life.

Science knows its short-comings, while Religion ignores its limits.

The heart is the most important organ of human beings, at the centre of Humankind’s soul.

When the Heart feels, the Mind tries desperately to follow-up.

Mysticism is relatively easy to achieve. All you need is to strip yourself naked, at the top of a mountain, alone, for eight years. Then, you get to discover Everything Else, as a Human Being. Then you learn to become part of Everything Else, and Then, you go back, amongst people, to help and heal, with the Compassion you acquired, having been protected, nurtured, and taught by the River. You learnt that every form of life, even falling leaves, has its purpose, in the Harmony and fragile Balance of All Things Together, “God”, for me, subjectively...

I don’t hurt and I don’t like to be hurt. In other words, I am neither a Sadist or a Masochist. I’m more of a Bacchus lover, in Wine and Friends, I find my Happy Times.

If you don’t let youngster be youngsters, then, either you’ve never been young, or, you can’t age maturely.

It’s Good to be young, it’s Good to be not-so-young, and it’s Good to be old. As long as you live the moment fully, and accept it, as the unique situation and lesson it is, ultimately, for your own Good.

If you point the right finger at the Moon, it answers back. Just tripping around. Anything wrong with tripping? I hope not, otherwise you tripping’. I got a woman I liked to believe she was the one tripping, while I was the one on Ketamin. We were on the phone, I was tripping, while painting, happy, and she was doing my head in. So, I told her: “One of us must be tripping...”, I gave her the choice, democratically. She answered: “You’re right, I must be tripping.”. I’ve had a 50/50 rate of success tripping with women. It goes from complete absurd situation, to doing the opposite of what’s expected to get laid quickly, to getting dates, to getting laid, and to getting girlfriends, to trip with, a lot. But that was until my mud-twenties. Then, I didn’t need to trip anymore, it’s like a switch, in my brains. When I’m bored, I trip myself or surroundings out, my good friends love it, I’ve always been the tripper of the Gang, Space Cadet Uno, until I met Gorka, in Art School, in San Francisco. Between my Basque older twin and I, Space Exploration was limiting, we went much further, like in Burning Man, in 1996. If anyone finds my wallet with my student ID, I’ll trip you out, for it! Otherwise, he was the one who helped me come down from hardcore trips, involving many substances and psychedelics, or, simply, made sure I was out of harm’s way. I arrived in Burning Man tripping and collapsed in the sun. Gorka and Loic are the ones who picked me up and put me on a mattress, under a tent. Not an excuse, but I was the Baby of the Circle, the youngest, and the one relied on for scripts and get the furthest in Symbols and Geometry. I owe them a big part of my Heart, WeYouMe, because Olive. I created the CD cover of Gorka’s band with a real sheet of LSD tabs, white, miticulously scanned to be the actual size. I was 21 years-old, in Art School, why not? At least, at 43, I don’t need to freak out anymore or be adventurous, I was planning my settling down at 42, already. I always said: “There’s a Time For Everything...”. This my time to Ground myself, where I am Home, by the end of the day, where I started puberty, and my Craft. When you go back home, you often forget that they have the right to whoop your ass back in place. Otherwise, there’s no reason to come home. You first let your local turf update you on the present situation, you prove yourself again, and then, you bring your shit to the plate. Toronto is merciless this way. But, it’s also the place that got me to work professionally, and move around ad agencies. Thanks to Mad Dogs & Englishmen, I was able to appreciate the brilliant seniors who mentored me. And, beyond my wild behaviour and reputation, outside work hours, or in agency parties, my work ethics and dedication were never questioned. In most agencies I was the first to arrive and last to leave, or, the one who stayed up, three nights in a row, to make sure that the client got as many directions as possible. I got sabotaged once, in my career, by a jealous senior. But, since I was buddy with all the Graphic Designers, I ended re-doing, for the fifth time, the whole thing, on their computer, right before the meeting. I don’t get discouraged, on the contrary, it’s a challenge I want to win, at ALL cost. It’s not about destroying or defeating the ennemy, it’s about making it powerless. Suddenly, their plans failed, the campaign went to the client, they can only hide, and be afraid of being discovered. They got. Discovered. And were kicked out with infamy for a shameful scandal. Too bad, I actually learnt from the Genius Punk, but he was twisted, even for me, it terms of being tolerant towards most harmless eccentric brains. In a way, I blame it more on the situation. The poor guy was bleeding to see his son, he was super horny, had no friends, and confided in me his past, but not his present demons. I could have helped, I was privy to every prostitute phone number that circulated in the office. I never used any, I was lucky enough to fall in love with an Italian air hostess, who looked like Penelope Cruz, Valentina, and see, “illegally”, a Saudi women, who liked me, at night, my birthday date, my second week in Jeddah, at 26, for the second time. It was a funky night. She wanted to see me again, I didn’t, there was something in her energy that made me feel suspicious. As for Valentina, we kept in touch, when I went back to Canada, she invited me to visit her in Italy, I told her to come to Canada, in January, as I was partying my head off, in Montreal, staying, rent-free, in my parents’ house, in Westmount, with Josephine, nannie, maid, and cook, but, overall, a present Mamma for me. We spoke to each other honestly. She knew I smoked weed in the backyard, at he kitchen door, in winter, that I snorted Heroin, and was always broke. She used to lend me money, which I always gave back, never more than ten dollars. She had a gambling problem. In a way, the ten bucks were also a guarantee she had cash. She was too nice and lonely, on weekends. She would get robbed blind, at her card circle. I kept lecturing her about it, but, somehow, she needed the company. I should ask if “Mrs Fiss”, is still around, I’d love to see again the Filipino lady. We made each other laugh daily, Good vibes. Obviously, she never told my parents anything, I smoked and chilled inside the house... someone had to use the ashtrays...

Since the past cannot be changed, it was perfect, the way it was. The Present, on the same hand, if it’s right, is here to be experienced fully, by everyone, differently.

The future is what the present owes to the past, in most societies.

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