“… well, I have to say, Mark, we always say that hockey can be a violent sport but this game is downright– good lord that check was brutal!”
“Yes, Zimmermann is looking to the ref for a call on that one. He’s not going to get it, but some heated words are being exchanged.”
“You know, I think Jack might actually get into a fight this game. He usually avoids it but–”
“It doesn’t really make any sense. The Aces and the Falcs are rivals, to be sure, after facing off in four Stanley Cup finals, but they usually keep it clean. There’s a lot of respect on both sides.”
“Not this game. I thought Zimms and Parse had buried the hatchet after some tense years early on playing against each other but this is vicious.”
“And Tater has just gone after Troy Swoops again. Or no, wait, Troy has gone after Tater. They’ve already fought once but a trip to the bin does not seem to have cooled them down at all.”
“This really isn’t making any sense. Lately, social media would have us believe that these two teams are quite close. Both have been at the forefront of LGBTQ issues and are huge donors to ‘You Can Play’ and– well, now Thirdy is shoving Ethan Vanderbu– Yup, it’s another fight.”
“Thirdy and Vander this time. For the folks just tuning in, this is the third fight between Falcs and Aces this game.”
“And it’s still the first period.”
“And it’s November.”
“No reason at all for this type of animosity.”
“Oh, no, it looks like this is turning into a bit of a brawl. Lots of things being said here. In fact– let’s cut down and see if any of our mics are picking up some of what’s going on. Diana, down to you.”
“Yes, William, so from what I understand, I think the root cause of these issues is something to do with… a fundraiser?”
“There was that NFL/You can Play fundraiser just last night. Both teams were in attendance. You’re saying that’s where the problem started?”
“I think so, Mark. During the first fight between Tater and Lux, I heard something about blueberries? And here, listen in on this:”
“Goddamn, Parse, you’ve got to let this go.”
“I BID $15,000 DOLLARS, ZIMMERMANN! DON’T TELL ME TO LET THIS GO!”
“You didn’t have to pay it! It was a blind auction. You didn’t have to pay anything!”
“I DIDN’T GET ANY PIE, YOU ASSHOLE. I WOULD HAVE GLADLY PAID MORE! HOW COULD YOU HAVE POSSIBLY KNOWN TO BID OVER 20 THOUSAND DOLLARS??”
“Well, obviously, that’s how much the pie is worth, Kenny. I just bid a fair price!”
“YOU LIVE WITH HIM! YOU! FUCKING! LIVE! WITH! HIM!”
“Ah, well, let’s cut away from that shall we. Clearly, this fundraiser left some sore feelings on both sides of the teams. I– oh, yes this a brawl now. Tater and Swoops are back at it.”
“And Snowy has left his goal and– it’s a goalie fight.”
“YOU KNOW I LIKE THE BLACKBERRY JAM MORE THAN YOU! I DESERVED–”
“Could you move away from the rink a bit, Diana, your mic is picking up–”
“Well, Mark, it looks like the ref is giving penalties to– everyone.”
“Yes. Everyone is going to the bin. Literally everyone on the ice.”
“It’s going to be a hell of a time fitting in there.”
“Well… this is a bit ridiculous. Entirely unprofessional really, wouldn’t you say?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I actually managed to snag a peach pie at yesterday’s fundraiser and let me just say it was literally the best thing I’ve ever put in my–”
After a short hiatus, I bring you episode 8! 80% of the gifs from this episodes were Eros but even so Yuuri managed to have a range of expressions too large for 1 gifset. I enjoy how straightforward this episode is for Yuuri as a whole. It feels like he has control the entire time, even when life throws him curve balls.
so the trailer for miss hokusai advertised one type of
movie, and then the actual movie was …. something else entirely. but the
trailer gave me ideas, so here they
there is girl –
there is woman –
there is a young woman, an old girl, and she has the eyes of
youth but the weight upon her shoulders is that of age. or perhaps it is the
other way around. perhaps she has the eyes of age, but upon her shoulder is the
weightlessness of youth, of ignorance.
there she is, whatever she is.
her name is kana.
she is the daughter of a famous painter, known as juro. he
is a man larger than life, and he paints wonderful things. he takes what is
ugly, and makes it beautiful. he paints an unhandsome woman as a goddess, a
sneering merchant as a king, a dirty city as a glowing capitol. he leaves all
he touches brighter than it was found.
kana is not like her father.
she is a painter, but she is not famous. she has a mother
she doesn’t speak to, and younger sister she visits as much as she can. she has
pushed them both aside to follow her father, to sit with him in dirty shacks
putting ink to paper as she does her best to make beautiful things. she throws
off the expectations of her gender, of her station, of anything and everything
in her pursuit to be a master painter.
technique is easy. she completes half of her father’s
painting while he drinks, while he whores, while he seduces lords and ladies,
while he paints empty things for empty people, while he leaves her alone in
their dirty shacks. she can do the detail work, has a steady hand and a sharp
eye, but when it comes to the whole picture – it is left lacking.
“her work lacks your beauty,” an old man says, talking to
her old father while she kneels in the corner, ink staining her hands, the
floor, ink just – staining.
“of course it does,” her father says, offhand. “how can she
paint what she does not know?”
kana never expected lack of knowledge to be her downfall.
so that night when her father is gone, she does not stay in
to work. instead kana paints her face, wears a kimono that’s too small on her,
and goes to the worst part of the city, to where the alleyways and walls are
stained red by the glow of the lanterns.