I did go to school for Marine Biology, but the cool thing is… the greatest thing for me is that Polynesians, our gods, Kahoali, Maui, all these water gods, so it’s really cool and a honor to be playing a [water] character. And there’s not too many brown superheroes, so I’m really looking forward to representing the Polynesians, the natives.
My family are some of the greatest water men on earth. I’m not, but I’m going to go train with them. But it’s really an honor just being a Polynesian. And water is the most important thing in this world and we all know it. It’s cool be a part of DC’s universe."
kellysue reblogged a post from skatekane earlier, asking if anyone had an archive of all of Kelly Sue’s Bitches Get Shit Done (#bgsd) texts. I did happen to have one, because I’ve been collecting them for a project I haven’t had time to work on yet, so since there seemed to be a demand, I thought it would be good to post them.
This goes through October
17th 20th, which was the last text sent out as of this posting. I’ll try to remember to go back and edit this semi-regularly to keep it up to date if people want to use it as a resource. (Also, I think I might have joined #bgsd a few days after the start, so there might be a couple from the beginning I missed. If you have them, feel free to send them to me either via tumblr or at fourteenacross at gmail.com.)
For more info on Bitches Get Shit Done (including how to sign up), check out this post from Kelly Sue! The short version is that if you sign up for the service, you get a text from KSD a few times a week nagging you to get to work. It is really super incredibly helpful, at least to me, to have someone you admire/respect needling you to be your best you.
Anyway, below the cut are all the texts I have archived! Have fun, bitches! Be inspired and productive and get shit done!
— Black Telephone (Richard Siken)
our-girl-friday said: (sorry now I am going to spam you because I love scary halloween things, you made the caveat but please feel free to ignore me) HAUNTED DOLLS ARE THE CREEPIEST, there should be like 20.
The first night, Erik is too tired to do more than ascertain where the exits are and work on cataloging the metal around his room. He convinces himself that’s enough training for the day, a day that started in another time zone halfway around the world and ended in a six hour drive in a car stuffed with three teenage boys. He comes up to his room after dinner, too tired, even, for a chess game with Charles, who is equally unsteady on his feet. He takes a shower, he gives a cursory glance around the room, and he changes for bed.
He falls asleep memorizing the layout of the pipes in the walls. He wakes up, refreshed for his morning run, and sees the doll for the first time.
It’s a porcelain recreation of a little girl in a frilly yellow dress. It looks like it’s staring at him, but all dolls stare, don’t they? It’s not as if they can move their eyes. He thinks, distantly, it must be a childhood relic of Raven’s, but past that, he pays it little mind, gets out of bed, and changes into his running clothes.
The sun has just barely risen. Even once he’s finished with his run (looping around the vast estate, memorizing the layout of the house, the entrances and exits, the roads and paths leading into the woods and away that will need further investigation), no one else save Moira is awake, and the word only applies to her on a technicality as she stands at the stove, staring at the coffeepot as it heats. He mutters a vague greeting that she returns with a jerky, distracted wave, and goes back to his room to shower and dress for the day.
He pauses as he’s stripping off his shirt, frowning at the dresser. He was sure the doll was facing the bed this morning. He remembers it staring at him when he woke up, but it’s face isn’t visible from the bed, now.
It’s no matter, he tells himself as he continues to the en suite. He probably moved it himself when he was dressing, without even thinking of it.
He hesitates when he steps out of the shower because now he knows, he knows the doll was facing the door. It certainly wasn’t facing the bathroom. But there it is, it’s tiny, perfectly made-up face staring at him as he steps back into the room to get dressed.