A couple years ago I saw a production of Sweeney Todd done by my university that featured an extra song, the Beggar Woman's Lullaby. Sondheim added it briefly after the show originally opened, but then cut it back out again because he felt it slowed down the pace of the ending scenes. Essentially it's a moment when Lucy enters the barbershop searching for the beedle, she stops for a moment and has a moment of near lucidity as she starts to remember her surroundings. She goes to Johanna's empty cradle and sings a lullaby to the tune of "Poor Thing" to "my Jo, my Jing." Sondheim wrote it originally to address the issue of audiences not figuring out the plot twist in time for the dramatic ending, but removed it again when he realized that everyone ends up figuring it out at various times throughout the show anyway.
Anyway all this to say, I think that song should be restored in an official capacity. I think that whether or not it serves the plot twist is immaterial. I think what it actually does is bring a much needed pause in the middle of the frenzy of the final scenes, it gives Lucy another dimension, and it makes what immediately follows so so SO much more heartbreaking because she was THIS CLOSE to remembering everything. Literally every time I listen to the final scene, everything happens so fast it feels almost unsatisfying. Like we're just rushing through everything to get to the end. And I think that song gives it a badly needed breath of air, without interrupting the flow.
Cal wakes up from a nap. Oops, fell asleep on the couch again. He's so dozy, so comfy, maybe he'll drift off again and...
Wait.
Something feels different about his head. He stirs, brushing the blanket pulled up to his chin.
"Shhh. Go back to sleep." It's Merrin. She must be sitting next to his head. "I am not finished yet."
Her fingers are in his hair, brushing through and separating small handfuls into trios. The feeling is familiar, a distant memory from so long ago. He feels himself relaxing. "Why're you braiding my hair?" he asks, although it sounds more like "whyybraidnmuhheyh?"
Somehow, Merrin interprets his mushy words. "It is shiny. And pretty."
"S'not."
"Oh, yes, it is." There's a gentle tug as she deftly braids. "Fiery. Like my magicks."
"S'green."
"Hush, Cal. Let me finish."
Cal zones out, drifting into memories of Master Tapal patiently plaiting his braid, tying it off with the finest of thread. It never seemed possible for someone with such huge hands, and yet Master Tapal managed it every time. Sometimes he would tug on it to get Cal's attention. Other times, if he couldn't grab the hood of Cal's robes fast enough, he'd grab Cal's braid instead, and that never failed to bring Cal to a sudden and complete halt - usually before he wandered into traffic in the Brave's landing bay. He smiles at the memories, at the warmth, the tradition, the simplicity.
Merrin probably isn't going in for simplicity. Maybe he'll look like Cere did in that echo he picked up from Trilla's lightsaber. She looked so awesome with her hair like that. Could he grow his hair out that long? His pictures it - autumn reds, oranges and golds trailing all the way down his back, tied in intricate braids...
...who is he kidding? He'd sling it back in a ponytail and be done with it.
He giggles to himself.
"You are strange, Cal," Merrin tells him.
She has no idea.
A few minutes later, Merrin's fingers pull away. "Done. You may wake up. BD? You can come and look now."
Familiar feet tippy-tappy their way over. BD gives a long, slow beep of awe, and then the light of his scanner shines through Cal's eyelids.
Pretty, BD declares.
"I am not pretty," Cal grumbles.
"You are. You are a pretty princess," Merrin says. "BD, quick, make a recording."
"Excuse you, I'm no princess, I am a queen," Cal corrects.
"Forgive us, Your Majesty," Merrin says.
Curiosity wins and he opens his eyes, sits, frees his hands from the blanket, and explores his head. What he finds is a series of small, tight braids encircling his head - much like a crown. He leans forward and catches a glimpse of his reflection on the table. "Huh."
"You like it?" Merrin asks. "Cere explained to me how to do it, but it is easier to practice on somebody else."
"I do like it," Cal says. "It's really practical. Keeps it out of my eyes, too."
The hatch opens. Cere and Greez board the ship, both carrying several grocery bags. Cere clocks Cal first, nodding in approval. Greez does a double-take, puts down his bags, and moves in for a closer inspection.
"Well?" Cal asks, moving his head to really show it off.
"I love it!" Greez gushes. "I mean I really love it. I want it. I want that style right now."
"When you have more hair, I will teach you how," Merrin says.
He grins. "It's a deal. You heard it here, folks, Greezy is officially growing his hair out."
How Arthur Morgan of me to make stag themed vent art at 1 am
Do not repost please, reblogs appreciated
Hallmark Movie tropes where a woman visits her rural hometown and fall in love with a random camo wearing musclebound white man because of the power of Christmas, and then leaves her successful city job, and cuck boyfriend to be said man's submissive wife is conservative and possibly even white nationalist propaganda.
In this essay I will...
hurr hurr I'm a human body hurr hurr I'm gonna solve all my problems using mucus
“I have the high ground!”
john watching arthur get sick is so heartbreaking to me
arthur was probably always so.. big to john, taller, broader, bigger. he can run while carrying deer, lasso wild horses, fight men twice his size, an unstoppable force.
he'd probably of thought that there was nothing that could truly stop arthur, that in his eyes, he would always be his big brother, a man could intimidate those around him with his mere presence, casting a wide and tall shadow on those near him, on john.
so imagining john seeing this, mountain of a man, unable to walk without crumbling to the floor, coughing up blood, getting weaker, thinner, smaller, something john likely never thought would be feasible - i often wonder what would have gone through his head, would he deny what he was seeing, burying his head into the sand, not accepting what was right in front of him?
if arthur had let him see, let him know, like he had with charles, that he was dying, would it have changed anything? would he have fought harder, on top of that hill? would he have insisted on getting arthur help, so that he could get through this and survive, refusing to believe that his brother was dying - til he was forced to accept the inevitable?
or did he know, and that there was no changing arthurs mind - knowing that arthur had accepted his death the moment he learned he was sick? that on that hill, that would have been the last time his big brother would ever cast his wide and tall shadow ever again?
Self petting station
(via irian9611)
I think one of my favorite DnD Things is when random rolls become retroactive Lore/Quirks for the character. Not even as a DM ruling, I mean something the whole table adopts organically, whether seriously or as a running joke.
A paladin I DMd for failing every single perception roll turned into him canonically needing glasses and not realizing it.
A combination of failed perception checks and concentration saves becoming a character having ADHD and that getting worked into the acting.
My gnome barbarian with low intimidation rolls despite doing/saying some actually terrifying things suddenly having a voice that cracks like the "WHEN WILL YOU LEARN?! WHEN WILL YOU LEARN?! THAT YOUR ACTIONS!! HAVE CONSEQUENCES!!" kid when he shouts.
Or my favorite, my tabaxi artificer, Gus, comedically failing every religion check when it comes to praying so now it's a whole plot point that gods literally do not perceive him.
(Yes this is an invitation to reply or tell me in the tags if you've had any canon-altering rolls like this I love PC stories)