IC Question: How will areas assigned to artists/sections assigned to writers look like?
Once we have finished contributor applications, we will have our selected artists and writers give us three different pitches/ideas that they would like to do based off of the zine’s general theme. This is the best way we found to have everyone do pieces that they would enjoy while also keeping the zine’s themes relatively balanced! So contributors will be more free to select their own areas and ideas to follow.
Okay true ic question. "What if, Drogo had never died?"
If my Sun and Stars lived, we would have grieved for our lost son (since the witch had been poisoning me during my pregnancy) and I suspect, he would have had all of her people killed for her treachery. Preparations would still be underway to invade and conquer Westeros (because the fat, drunken Usurper sent an assassin after me during my pregnancy).
The uncertainty of my dragons is a concern. It would require me to be presented with another opportunity to create the circumstances necessary to bring them forth from stone. As this was (which I later discover) part of the prophecy, I suspect that the opportunity would arise during the executions of the witch’s people. The Vision guiding me was very strong and I’ve always felt something from the eggs, even when no one else did.
What was the journey to becoming Canterlot's most loved and adored red horse model like? The ups and downs?
“Being a model isn't always glitz and glam hon.”
“There are times I feel photographers treat me more like their art project than an actual pony. So, to begin with? After working as a guest model for fashion designer friends I knew, I quickly began getting calls for other modeling jobs based on their recommendations. Now, to be fair a lot of my earlier jobs where small-time with little pay. Namely, I ended up helping photographers make albums of “Stock Photography” that they can sell wherever and make profits on my image. They'd ask me to do all sorts of things from the mundane like sitting at a desk busy at work that I'm clearly not doing... to some more extreme things like keeping my balance for an action pose or like this one time they asked me to purposefully trip forward while they used this high-speed shutter camera to catch my images in mid-fall... Had to do twelve takes until they got the one they wanted... But now most of that is behind me. I've made some valuable contacts back in those days and as word spread of my willingness to get the best picture possible... and a few fabulous couple of head-shots where passed around studio big-wigs... Suddenly I got calls for runway shows, fashion catalogs, magazine and billboard ads. I even scored front cover appearances on some prominent fashion and culture magazines … not to mention a few centerfolds I might add... and it's just been absolutely wonderful. None of it would've happened though if I didn't put myself out there in the first place and made connections with ponies in the industry early on. I thank them each and every day.”
She can’t do this alone. If she’s going to do it at all – Snart’s stupid goddamn book keeps harping on about a support system.
And Trish, Christ, Trish can’t do it alone. Bruce was right, Jessica’s been taking her shit out on her and her alone for far too long.
So, despite the fact that things are shakier between them than ever, Jessica sends Natasha a text message.
(✉ → nat): actully, i do ened soemthing(✉ → nat): meet me uptwon? say 3?
She sends the address to one of Trish’s favorite coffee spots. Natasha replies simply. ‘I’ll be there.’
Jessica’s stomach is in knots before they even walk inside. She hasn’t told Trish why they’re there either, and her sister keeps trying to guess.
“Are you pregnant?” she asks, tone cool. (She’s still not happy about the Registration.)
“Christ, no,” Jessica says, as the barista slides them their drinks. “I just – there’s someone I want you to meet.”
Trish’s eyebrows shoot up. “A guy?”
“You’re terrible at this.”
“A girl then?”
“Trish…” Jessica sighs, sipping her scalding coffee. Trish tuts in disapproval when she winces at the burn, but says nothing. They take a seat at a corner table, and Jessica spends the next few minutes pretending she’s deaf.
The door chimes as Natasha walks in, and the whole cafe turns their head. Probably would, even if she wasn’t one of the only Avengers to sign the thing. The redhead’s eyes narrow as she spots Jessica and Trish. She walks over with a pensive expression, but doesn’t sit.
“Jessica,” she says flatly, her tone no warmer than it has been the last few days. Her eyes slide over to Trish. There’s a flicker of recognition between both of them.
Jessica nods. Takes a sip of coffee to steel herself, almost out of habit. It doesn’t work as well as whiskey. (Christ, that’s why they’re here, she remembers painfully.)
“Trish, Natasha. Black Widow, Avenger, and the one I punched in the face,” she says, flippantly. Both of them give her a look, but it just spurs her on. “Natasha, this is Trish. Former pre-teen popstar, current #1 radio talk show host. My sister,” she adds, a tiny smile flickering across her face.
“TV star,” Trish corrects. She holds out a hand, and Natasha takes it. They’re both careful, cool, collected. Essentially everything Jessica isn’t.
“I heard your interview with Steve,” Natasha says. “It was good. Fair.”
Trish nods “Thank you. He told his story, I was just there to make sure it was heard. Please, sit.” She pushes out a chair. “I’d love to hear yours sometime, if you’d be willing.”
Natasha hesitates, but only a second. “Maybe someday,” she replies simply. Her gaze turns to Jessica. “I assume you didn’t bring us here to set up an interview”
Jessica shakes her head. “Not exactly. Good for the ratings though,” she adds with a look at Trish. Her sister isn’t having it. The look on her face clearly screams get on with it, Jess.
She sighs. Toys with her cup. Looks everywhere but at the two of them. She feels so small in comparison to the two of them, wilting under their increasingly impatient gazes, and Christ she just wants one goddamn drink to make this easier, maybe two, or three, or a bottle –
“I’m an alcoholic,” she says finally. No matter how many times she says it, it’s always a struggle. Always feels like a dam is bursting in her chest. “Natasha made that pretty clear the other night,” she says, glancing up at her. Natasha’s face is stoney, but softer around the edges than usual. Even with the fading bruise on her jaw. Trish’s face is crestfallen.
Both look a little disappointed. A little hesitant. A little proud.
“You’re both pissed at me, I know that,” Jessica says, the word tumbling out of her mouth now. Her grip on the coffee cup is reaching dangerous levels. “And yeah, you have every right to be. I don’t – I shouldn’t ask for it, but I can’t – I can’t do it alone,” she says finally.
Trish places a hand over hers. Maybe the only person in the world who can make that gesture seem comforting.
Natasha is studying her intently. “You’re serious about this?” she asks.
Jessica shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says, because there’s no point in not being honest. Not with these two. “That’s… That’s why I wanted you two to meet,” she says, biting her lip. She sighs, then barrels on. “Trish, you know me best. And Natasha, you don’t let me get away with my shit. So I thought, I don’t know, between the goddamn two of you, maybe – maybe we can figure something out.”
She doesn’t know what else to say, so she just raises the coffee to her lips again. It still doesn’t help the way whiskey would.
They’re both staring at her. Looking for something. But she has nothing left to give.
Finally, Trish turns to Natasha. “She trusts you, and that’s enough for me,” she says. “And she’s the most important person in the world to me, so I’m in this. With or without you. But it might be easier with.”
Natasha nods. “It won’t be easy,” she says, a hint of warning in her tone.
Trish laughs. “Never is, with her.”
Natasha actually smiles at that. “Good point.”
“I’m still here,” Jessica says, slumping in her chair.
“We know,” Trish says, teasing lightly. Jessica isn’t sure if she wants to hug her or kick her under the table. She turns to Natasha. “Welcome to Team Get Jessica Jones Sober,” she says warmly.
“I’ve joined worse teams,” Natasha muses. She stands, goes to order her own coffee. “We’ll talk options when I return,” she promises.
Jessica regrets this already.
She’s supposed to be hopeful, she knows that. But the idea of disappointing both of them simultaneously is already making her itch for a bottle. Might as well give in to the inevitable. She wants to run from the cafe, and down an entire bar’s worth.
“I’m proud of you,” Trish says, pulling her out of her fantasy. Jessica scoffs. “I mean it. That’s hard to do, I know,” she says pointedly.
Jessica just shrugs, picks at the cardboard sleeve on her cup.
“I was right, by the way,” Trish adds, sipping her own. “It was a girl.”
“You’re terrible.”
“And you love it,” Trish says. Her eyes flick to Natasha at the counter. “I like her,” she adds.
“Knew you would,” Jessica breathes. “Just had a feeling.”
IC Question: Is there any chance to get a copy of the first zine too: a reprint?? I didn't know abt the first
We have the first volume of HallowHome linked in our Carrd, as well as in earlier posts on all of our social media. It is purely a free digital zine, so everyone is free to download it as they wish! (You can download it here.)
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1. Aerys II never lost the throne. He was fully immersed in the Westerosi belief that women were property so I’m sure I would have been sold off like cattle to whatever slobbering, old High Lord was in his favor the most to live out my life in a castle until I died in one too many child birthing.
2. Rhaegar won the war and deposed our father. Now, this gets tricky, because Rhaegar was beholden to his belief in the prophecy. In his mind, he needed two daughters and a son. The “holy trinity” of Targaryen belief for a strong, united warrior-set. Since Lyanna died having Jon and hey, look, Jon is a boy (and NOT Azor Ahai), then Rhaegar would need someone to produce a daughter for him. And who better than his baby sister? It goes against the Seven, yes, but again, remember, Rhaegar is all about the prophecy. So I suspect he’d marry me and try to beget a daughter as quickly as possible.
