flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
This one isn’t a specific story – oddly the whole traditional dragon with a hoard of gold in a cave demanding maidens for lunch thing doesn’t really turn up in the mostly British and European folktales I’m working with. There’s the occasional dragon but no hoard, the occasional maiden being rescued but usually from a giant or ogre or multiheaded monster – the three things just aren’t all in the same story that I can find. But it’s become such a trope that modern retellings are full of it, and since it’s part of the cultural consciousness I’m comfortable including a Smaug-style dragon hoard.
Now excuse me while I go cackle madly in a corner after drawing all those fucking coins and scales, what is wrong with me?
Places to buy stuff!
Did I miss something? I think that’s everything.
What’s making me happy this week:
I got to see Magical Sparkle Muffin and her mother (Magical Sparkle Coffecake?) and the rest of her household briefly and their cats less briefly and we ate deli food and watched Mrs. Maisel so huzzah for that. And I’m going to what looks like it should be a basically empty theatre to see Spider-Man in a couple of hours because apparently it won’t be streaming till like July and I need to see my sweet lil Spider-son before the entire thing gets spoiled for me.