Everfree Northwest 2022, The Convention: but I got you pegged · 7:17pm Sep 6th, 2022
Friday, August 26th through Sunday, August 28th
It's still too early in the morning, but... I couldn't sleep. I've checked the weather: no change to the forecast, and the wishlist umbrella I brought to Seattle will remain in its sleeve all the way home. (I finally opened it this morning, and the plastic smelled like dead fish.) And all I've eaten since Chicago is trail mix and some small pieces of bacon jerky...
(The pre-flight food supply ultimately turns out to be the smartest prep purchase I made.)
I don't want to be in this hotel room any longer. I'm still trying to figure out if I want to be on this coast.
It takes a few minutes to pack up. There isn't a lot of luggage scatter, but I'm being very careful to make sure I've got everything. And then I fire up the tablet again, check the charge, and ask Siri for mass transit directions to the Bellevue Hyatt. Is this going to be a transfer through Seattle?
...no. Direct bus. There is a Bellevue Transit Center, and I now know not to expect too much from the title. But the bus stop itself is about two miles out, and I recognize part of the path on the map. The initial third is a backtrack. More hills, and they're going to be the same ones.
*sigh*
Get on with it.
Down the external stairs. I check out, and then go up the exit ramp, back towards the main road. Unfortunately, the directions don't have me turning towards the strip mail I saw in the dark -- but I'm going to detour, because I couldn't pack drinks. Reach the end of the ramp, turn left instead of right, and --
-- convenience store! Right there! All I have to do is --
-- it's closed.
I peer through the glass on the door. No one moving around inside. No hours posted.
It's about seven a.m. on a Friday morning. This is a convenience store, and it's closed.
...okay. The strip mall is across the road, and just about everything there is closed too. But there's a McDonald's, and I see a car finish up in the drive-thru. Overpriced orange juice it is. Cross, and --
-- the drive-thru opened at six-thirty.
The registers will welcome foot traffic at nine a.m.
I stare at it from the outside for a few seconds. I am in the heart of the Northwest. Coffee country. And somehow, the entire region has managed to neglect the needs of those who are either up all night or have to get moving early in the morning.
Stalking along the drive-thru gets me the attention of the cashier. I fetch a ten-dollar bill, show it to her, and then leave without a word.
More hills. After a while, another residential section. Climb, and then climb again. At one point, I get a beautiful downhill sighting of a mountain lake, and take my usual horrible picture. The houses aren't quite as expensive in this region: maybe a million and a half each instead of five. There's a recliner outside one of them, the sign says it's free, and I can't get that on the plane either.
I know the area is only half as wealthy, because now I have one sidewalk. Right-side only. A jogger glares at me as I haul my luggage past her.
...gas station. Attached convenience store. Open, and the food budget reactivates itself in time to prevent dehydration. The Perrier is the least expensive and most refreshing thing in the cooler. I also get my first introduction to the local sales tax, and allow a few blocks for the horror to set in.
The bus stop is... also on an exit ramp. What exactly is the local fascination with...?
...nevermind. One other person waiting, and apparently they always do so alone because all I have to do for unnerving him is approach. I politely explain that I'm not staring at him: just trying to read the route signs past him. This helps slightly.
It's not too long a wait. The bus driver sees me fumbling with fare and luggage, then tells me to pay after I put the latter down. Then he tells me I'm fifty cents short. I inform him that the website is out of date, and he drops the matter. Watch through the windows, and...
...first view of Rainier.
I know it's not an active volcano. But it's a solitary peak, visible at a great distance across the landscape, and... there's a moment when all I can feel is homesick.
I want to go home.
7,500 miles east, and a little south. Good luck with that.
Traffic is fairly heavy, but everything's moving steadily. The transit center approaches, and...
...what's Bellevue? The two words which may most apply are Under Construction. It's an outskirt trying to become a metropolis. The main industries of the area are hardhats and cranes. Everywhere you go, entire blocks exist as empty pits just starting to plan their reach towards the sky. They want to attract businesses, and some of the construction may be speculative. My local version is to watch someone put together a warehouse and hope someone needs storage. The usual result is a lot of empty warehouses.
This Transit Center is mostly placed along one long strip of semi-block, with a couple of stops serving as outliers. Get off, and ask Siri for one more set of directions. I need the Hyatt, and...
...the first part of the trail takes me past a group of striking workers. Wearing hardhats, so the local construction boom hasn't reached the level of Giving People Actual Salaries. They have signs. But they're not bothering with a chant. There are other means of getting attention, and they're going with -- beating on war drums.
The echoes follow me for two blocks.
It takes a few extra seconds to spot the Hyatt itself: the approach driveway loops behind a different building, attached to the hotel by skybridge. It's hours before my room will be ready, but FOME gave an account of his own Day One on the chat server. All I need to do is approach the front desk, verify my reservation, and they'll hold my luggage until then.
How was your trip in?
...let's... not talk about it. Would you please...?
Freed.
Explore.
Everfree Northwest is spread across three floors of the hotel. At the time of my arrival, a few people are already hanging out in the atrium. There's a dual curving staircase at the back, and a pair of elevators more towards the front. The latter exist only to connect first floor to second, and also to support the crossbar which makes the whole thing look like an H. Facing towards the main entrance gives me a restaurant off to the left of the atrium, front desk on the right. Second floor shows a grille, an Asian buffet, and a little drink-and-candy shop. There's also a breakfast-only place on the left, called Eques. This may be the entire reason the convention is here. There's also a steakhouse towards the top of the building, well outside the convention's space range: Daniel's Broiler. So at least onsite food won't be a problem.
(I was so wrong.)
First floor is Huckster Hall and the convention store. Registration is on the second, along with the main gathering space and most of the panel rooms. Divert forward and to the right and you'll find the videogame area and children's section, along with where the charity auction items will eventually be stored. Go up a staircase from there to the third floor, and it's the CCG section and writer's panels.
The second floor also features a piano. I take this personally and, in the event that someone pushes me to my death, immediately plan to pull a Jack Braun and aim for the thing.
Wander a bit. Get the layout. I have a natural instinct for isolating future quiet spots: places to rest and recover. I also check out some of the few tables set up near registration, because that's where future conventions are recruiting for 2023. Four of them are trying to get attention: one in the San Francisco area, another in Texas, the third is in Vancouver and they're going to roll in January, and the fourth is... Holland. The Holland gathering is entering Year Two and could really use some guests.
Wander. Wait to pick up the badge. And...
...there's already people here. Many of them are carrying plushies. A few are in cosplay. There's a lot of MLP shirts. (I don't fit in with any of the groups. Or anywhere, really.) I do wonder how the rest of the hotel's guests feel when they pass through the atrium, seeing the convention's banner -- followed by those attending. There's probably some question as to just what they've gotten into.
There's also a few kids. This convention is explicitly non-explicit: everyone has been asked to draw the line at PG-13. No After Dark rooms, no cursing on the panels. Keep it accessible, please. The kids, over the full course of events, seem to be having a lot of fun.
No one I know. Not yet --
-- okay. Take a breath. I know what some of you look like. I was at The Last Bronycon. I stood in a lot of lines. It let me survey the crowds. Check for names on motionless badges.
At this gathering... people are moving. Fast. The font sizes are also different. It's hard to read these badges (once badges exist), and there are people I never find. Skywriter was at both events. I could probably pick him out of a crowd and during my entire stay in Bellevue, I never see him once.
Ultimately, I'm going to miss seeing a lot of people. Others will only be spotted for a few seconds. I pass Horizon as we're going in opposite directions on the same staircase. RainbowDoubleDash can be found at Monochromatic's vendor table. FOME can tell you that I saw him several times. He was the first person I identified, and then I told him about that on the Discord...
Anonymity. It's a bug in my system: the terror of stepping forward, because y'all have attached a thousand visions to me and I can never satisfy all of them. But on this three-day weekend, I make some attempt to turn it into a feature. I never quite pull off 'Right behind you' with a smile and giggle, but I do let a few people know when they've been spotted -- well after the fact. Admiral Biscuit's always easy to find. Not so much his business cards, because I never spot a single one in the convention area.
Eventually, I'll be in a panel room with EileenSaysHi. Passing by Fiaura's table in Huckster Hall. And... there's a blue-and-white flag on the second floor, spread across a table. A black magic marker sits on top of it, waiting.
I... got further than I did at Bronycon, which had something similar in full public view. I wait for a quiet, isolated moment. And then I sign.
I was there.
But I don't always feel like I belong with the group. Too... muted. Duller feathers, I suppose. I'm certainly not going around with images of Starlight all over my body and yes, I saw him too. I immediately vow to never let that one find out who I am, much less what I'm currently working on...
...not that it would matter.
I'm not famous. Or even horsefamous.
Attendance, as announced during the closing, is 1,752 people. They are not here to see the writers. Not for fanfics. We have multiple voice actors present. Nicole Oliver turns up for Saturday. Andy Price is there for the whole thing. (We also get attendance via screen, because covid-positive.) Those are the panels which draw the numbers. Anything with the people who actually work on the real thing -- that's where the fans gather. Want to invoke a writer? Larsen is brought up a few times, and not always kindly.
Hundreds of people for the actors. The busiest writing panel might have had thirty spectators.
There are people online who swear that bringing up my name (or at least my writing) starts a fight. This may have been one squabble in a very small room. Factor out all of the fanfic writers who came, and... there might be two people who would vaguely recognize that name, one of whom would immediately start looking to hit me.
The closest I come to hearing anyone invoke me in three days is a verbal use of 'ponypile', and I may not have been the first to the word.
So I drift.
Or rather, once registration starts, I scramble.
Where was I?
Huckster Hall, several times. But I didn't spend anywhere near as much as I could have, because I didn't get any plushies. A running joke in the planning stage for this was The $600 Plushie, and I was wrong because the ground floor was closer to $625. And at that, most of the best ones still sell out early. I repeatedly spot someone carrying a Luna that's roughly the size of their own body, and they stop frequently to take questions.
The vendor area is also where I overhear what may be the most awkward exchange in human history, between two people who clearly haven't seen each other for a while.
"Did you change your hair?"
"I just transitioned."
...so -- yes?
I walked around Bellevue a bit, usually early in the morning -- after sunrise, because the local cops don't know me and I don't know how suspicious the average night walk is. This lets me find the nearby Wendy's, which is -- closed to foot traffic. For the entire convention. Drive-thru only. Listening closely at the convention finds several frustrated people wondering if they can collectively pretend to be a car.
There's a supermarket nearby, and this lets me discover the horrors of Seattle area pricing. On average, I can take whatever I'm paying at home and bump it by twenty percent. Oh, and then there's that sales tax again...
But when it came to the convention itself...
I didn't know the opening ceremonies traditionally open with a musical number, and that's somewhat like taking a vacation in a live-fire zone. Someone really should have warned me.
(This is one of the few events which gets a line. A Major Line. The flashbacks kick in instantly.)
This is the ten-year celebration. It means a lot of veterans are honored with special announcements, accompanied by exclusive caps. And I've mostly walked in on Year Ten of a long-running series. Who are you? Well, I can guess that you're important to the show, since you were never replaced in the cast...
On Friday, I do the G5 interview panel and the G4 retrospective. I hit the What The Pone? event in the Cadance Room. The writer's room is mostly avoided on Day One, especially after I get the first look at the Too Serious layout: it's a mini-auditorium for business presentations, and the marble is set near the chairs at work level. A serious space for serious people.
I... barely eat. I'm still out of sorts from Thursday. I make sure to stay hydrated and once my room becomes available, I get access to two free bottles of water. But it's mostly trail mix and jerky. I tell myself that I'll catch up on Saturday, and I don't know that circumstances are going to make me a liar. And when the sun sets, and the musical event of Ponystock starts in the central space... I skip it. I'm not much for parties, and Trotcon taught me that the music is likely going to come in one flavor: LOUD. I'm also short on sleep from yesterday, and my body has not -- never does -- adjusted to west coast time.
The room is nice. Shower temperature could be a lot higher. I have a view of the Wendy's far below, and the road stretching away into green.
I try to sleep and because I have chronic cyclical insomnia, I'm up at two-thirty a.m. local.
...normally, at home, I'd go for a walk. But see above...
Saturday morning puts me in the supermarket. I get some fruit, because my eating budget keeps rolling over and fruit is now an option. I promised myself one 'real' meal per day, and I haven't met that promise yet. And I said I'd try to get salmon before I left. One sit-down meal with fresh fish.
(This doesn't work out.)
On Saturday, I listen to the Cultural Influences In Fanfiction panel, AKA Monochromatic explaining that if you think Rarity is being a bitch in just about any given story, it's all Mexico's fault. As an adopted Sicilian who may have incorporated just a touch of island drama, I'm really not in much of a position to say anything.
The main area has a live G5 comics reading with the voice actors. This last falls apart in a hurry, and not for the worse. I was expecting the voice actors to read their roles in those voices. They read in all the voices. Christopher Walken lands pretty well. Flash Sentry's actor spends most of his convention time reminding you of who he reads for, and basking in what's mostly false hate. Later on, I'll do Hooves Line Is It Anyway?, and it doesn't take long to realize that I did this at Bronycon too. The World's Strongest Brony moderates. No one keeps track of the points, because they don't matter.
I don't do the Iron Author event. (Write a story involving a gaffe, a giraffe, and a guru.) After several attempts, I can't even log into the Iron Author event. Which is a mercy, because I had no ideas for that prompt anyway.
I saw the Fallout Equestria animation at Trotcon. It's too soon to check back. And to really avoid the lines, I don't attend Sketches From A Hat, because there are multiple artists pulling concepts out of that and anything they draw is given to the originator. There is a line. It is not a short one.
But eventually, I have to eat.
And that's when I discover that all of the in-house lunch places which were open on Friday have shuttered for the weekend.
@$#% the convention attendees. Let 'em eat Wendy's. If they can pretend to be a car. For breakfast, Eques is still there -- but just for breakfast. One restaurant opens at night. For everything else? You are on your own. Leave the building or have something sent in.
But hey, I have trail mix!
...and Pony Life. There's a Pony Life riffing panel. This means I see more of the series in one shot than I ever have before, which mostly means I wind up seeing the series and dear gawds, what are these title cards? Also, Pinkie keeps exploding. Please make it stop.
I wind up embarrassing myself after the fact on one panel, because it's a Jackbox-style event -- for dubbing. Fill in missing lines from the show. It's funny, they have a YouTube channel, I recommend it to the server later and as it turns out, I can't get through two minutes of the first video. Because the convention is kid-friendly and once the group is out of that environment, they decide that humor means working blue. Nothing in the videos is actually funny, but you can get all of the direct sexual demands you might want. Not a single line approaches Moondancer pulling a book off the shelf and having an exposed Twilight ask about her car's extended warranty.
Skip the Gala...
I'm tired at the end of each day. I take the elevator up to the Broiler, discover the least expensive entree' is fifty-eight dollars, and come back down. I fall asleep promptly and wake up a few hours later. Sometimes I wake up over and over. My body can't adjust.
Conversations aren't really to be had. People speak with each other, but... I'm very new here. Unknown quantity, and... I don't fit in. Monday is the day when everyone talks to me, and spoiler alert: I'm not going to have a good time with it.
Sunday morning...
On Sunday, I do the rest of my merch shopping, very early on. All of one item. There was a mug which I'd been looking at, but I don't know how I would have gotten it home. It sold out before I got there anyway. There's also wood burn squares, and the one which shows Fluttershy's cottage appeals... but it's very expensive, and extremely fragile for luggage or mailing. The best I can do is get the artist's address. The vendor who was selling custom clay hard-sculpts -- no ponies whom I would have targeted. And books? They're barely available. Mono's table has her creations. There's two FoE stations. And that's it.
(I'll put up pictures in the final blog. I did pick up some things.)
Attend Pony Feud, which is the voice actors (and Andy) failing to guess at Survey Says. Toss in running jokes about the black sheep of the family, who is of course Flash's voice actor and he wouldn't have it any other way. There's also Cartoon Court and at the moment Rainbow's cosplayer is announced as being on trial, the audience decides she's guilty. (It's speeding. What do you think? The main question, acted out by the performers and one Actual Lawyer, is whether Equestria has speeding laws to apply. And until that gets determined, Rainbow's actress spends the entire trial weaving enough verbal rope to hang herself.) Also, Izzy vs. Pinkie. Silliness infringement.
People start to gather luggage. Head for the closing ceremony, and then the exits. Hugs are witnessed. Farewells. Vows to be there next year...
I do think about next year. One convention a year: that's the limit. Multiple gatherings are advertising here, and I never work out what the Holland group thought they would accomplish. Vancouver, from Seattle, is a small jump. I'm closer to Holland than the locals. And in Year Two, when you don't know what kind of turnout might arrive...
Eventually, I get my suitcase. And then it's back to the transit center, where I have to ask for help because the bus stop I need is away from that central grouping.
Off to Factoria.
It's a single bus, and it's going to drop me off about half a mile from the last hotel.
The plan? Because of the way my return flight worked out, the cost of staying an extra night is just about covered by the drop in ticket cost. So it makes sense to stay into Monday. On Monday, I'm just going to explore Seattle. One day to look at the city. I've already booked something. And there's a lot of food in the area around the bus stop, but I'm hauling luggage and it's getting late. I'll check in, drop off the bag, then go find dinner. At least I'm running on some calories, because I did have breakfast.
...but not lunch.
Breakfast was at Eques, and it was $31. (Including tip. I do tip, y'know.) That was the only time I was in there all weekend and at that cost, once was enough. But hey, it was a real meal! And I told myself that it was enough calories to skip lunch, and...
(When I get home, I'll have lost weight.)
...anyway, dinner later. I see multiple restaurants here. Some fast food. There's choices. Now, how do I get to the hotel?
Cross street, turn left.
...
...that is... a very sharp uphill.
That may be the steepest slope I've ever seen which still has a sidewalk attached.
(Monday looms.)
The sidewalk looks like it's going to slide off...
Siri? Are you sure about this?
She is.
...okay. Start hauling.
Keep going.
The GPS loses me for a few seconds. I have to turn around and reorient, because there's a major corporate building here -- part of a full campus, because this may be a national headquarters -- and if this is right, the directions can't possibly be asking me to --
-- go. through. their. parking. lot.
Excuse me?
And the slope is increasing. The luggage, which is packed to the point of density collapse because I can't mail anything on a Sunday, is trying to go back down without me. This is the sort of incline which ibex laugh at and gee, turns out I ain't an ibex. All I can do is keep pushing, and it's reaching the point where every single step is exhausting. I'm putting each foot one elevation increment higher than the one before, and then Siri tells me to go up the stairs.
...what?
Stairs. There are stairs leading out of the corporate parking lot. They are steeper than the hill, and that takes some work.
...earlier in the trip, the Discord was congratulating Washington on becoming my most-hated state. This is wrong. Alabama exists. No one has tried to kill me for existing in Washington. Yet. But at least Alabama knows what a sidewalk is, if not how to collectively spell it.
Up.
And up.
For half a mile.
...well, now I know why the hotel wasn't that expensive...
The first breath I take in the actual room serves as the next hint, because I get a lungful of must. The room smells. It's the sort of stench which you become nose-blind to after three minutes -- or until you leave the room for any reason, because it always hits you again when you get back. And there are families living here, because this is an extended stay sort of hotel. Laundry services are available, and at least these vending machines work. I got taken for $2 by a Pepsi dispenser at the Hyatt, I only used it because every in-house restaurant was closed...
(I called Pepsi. They sent a 12-pack coupon. It arrived today.)
I get a drink. I think about dinner.
...dinner... means going back down that hill.
And then up again.
...
...I'm not hungry any more.
Try to get on the hotel's wifi. Check in on the Discord. But the first thing that pops up is the cellular signal. I have three bars' worth of signal strength, which is pretty good. It's just that...
...I'm in Factoria.
I just went through the parking lot of a major corporate complex. I think it's their national headquarters.
It is the headquarters for T-Mobile.
They are still less than a hundred yards away, the tablet runs off T-Mobile, and I have three bars.
Also trail mix.
I still have trail mix.
Shower. (Some heat, not much water pressure, no adjustments possible.) Lie down.
Did I have a good time?
...
...I'm not as stressed as I was after Bronycon. Or Trotcon. But with Bronycon, I mostly kicked myself all the way home. For being a coward. And with Trotcon... the convention itself was entertaining, for the lone day I was there -- but I drove six hundred miles home with a bad alternator. It wasn't a situation which encourages relaxation.
I can't really quote conversations I was part of, because... I didn't talk to anyone. Not as a person. As a customer: that was the limit. Short exchanges, mostly about price and stock available. I can, if asked, go into more detail on individual panels. I could list a few jokes, or sketches for the improv panels. (There was a prop game. The difference between G4 and G5 is a ball down the back of the pants.) But for personal interaction... I didn't.
I smiled a few times. I laughed. Just getting to laugh can be a lot for me. And I never felt like I was rejected from the group. Just that... I didn't quite fit in. I never really feel like there's anywhere that I belong. Still... not feeling as if I was pushed away is sort of progress.
Just seeing the kids was lovely. Laughing, cuddling their own plushies, carrying crafts and on their way to make more. Some of those kids were born because people met at conventions and... took it from there. We have our own next generation, with more on the way. One couple on their way into the Gala was very clearly pre-wedding...
I almost wish I'd found a plushie. But it's impractical, and... y'know. $625. And up. Also, no Fleur. It should probably be Luna or Fleur.
A lot of people tipped what, to me, is a lot of money. To bring me here. There's a sort of obligation to have fun. To justify it for the group. Or at least to be miserable in a way which serves as entertainment.
Did I have a good time?
Not on Thursday. Dear gawds.
But...
...I'd rather be here than home right now.
Even if I'm thinking about needing a new desktop, while comparing it to the flight cost. My current system -- aging fast. I just had to replace the hard drive. Something else will collapse soon.
About the fact that I've already spent tips which exceed a month's rent, just to get this far. But on the bright side, my air conditioner in the apartment has been turned off for a few days.
About guilt. Always about guilt.
Maybe it's guilt which makes it hard to sleep.
Next year...
...think about that tomorrow. As a means of dodging other thoughts.
(We can talk about next year in the final convention blog. If there is a next year.)
Tomorrow, I have Seattle itself. For as much of the city as can be seen in one day. But before that can happen...
The convention may be the first time in months when I've truly been among the masked. Not just those who were trying to protect themselves and those around them, but understood that the human respiratory system does not go through the chin. I had to show a vaccination card to get in. Everyone did. But some of us flew, most went outside, and we were packed so tightly...
Tomorrow morning is another covid test.
Also, there's going to be a monorail.
I wasn't expecting the monorail.
(To be continued.)
Huh, so you were at our panel? Consider me honored. Glad those two days were better than the arrival and departure though. Here's hoping future cons treat you better overall.
Edit: Wait... did you speak up briefly? Or am I thinking of someone else? I have the distinct memory of someone mentioning Sicily for some reason.
5684448
I did not. I was pretty much on Mute the whole time. And sorry for not mentioning you as a co-panelist. (I'd have to look up the spelling on the third member, and EFNW already took that part of the site down.) It's been a long, wet day here. Something I was expecting to the west.
I was fairly mobile across the course of the three days, and I tried not to go more than an hour and a half without sitting in on something. Trying to justify the trip, along with seeing what the convention had to offer. And unlike a certain Baltimore event, it was possible to get into most of the rooms.
5684451 No worries. I just had that feeling that someone had mentioned it. If in the future you feel comfortable, let me know if you'd like to grab a bite, I'd be happy to treat you in exchange for small conversation or just people-watching for a bit (or maybe just for a brief hello, how are you doing). I just love what conventions do for the community so sharing it with someone however briefly is always fun.
Yes, I've noticed that foot routes tend to be mostly uphill both ways. Call the Pope, it's a miracle!
Here in Phoenix, many moons ago a pedestrian got hit at a fast food place & sued. Now, most places ban foot traffic. You've got to go inside.
Prison etiquette. Staring at someone means that you're thinking of fighting them, especially as you're wearing a mask
Here in Phoenix, you can get delivery from Domino's. 2 Medium 2 topping pizzas @ $6.99 +$5 delivery (for order over $10). Most other places, you've got to subscribe to a delivery service & pay a monthly fee. Unsubscribing is like something out of a horror movie. I wound up reporting my card stolen & getting a new card with a new number.
I also learned that too much greasy or spicy food will give you MAJOR indigestion + the runs for 2+ days. On the plus side, you won't be hungry until afterwards.
That Spy's an Estee!
Some of them I knew from greater horsefame. Others appeared to be until-then unsung heroes from behind the scenes, the ones who did the messy, unglamorous work. (Mind you, I've only been watching this particular show since Year Eight.) I actually ran into one of the latter in an elevator later in the convention; I made sure to thank him for making it happen.
Agreed. I always skip the concerts. No offense meant to the musicians; it's just not my kind of event.
One of the more... notable parts of the series, yes.
Whenever you're ready to make that leap, I'll be there. You know, assuming I'm at that convention.
Glad to hear this was your best con yet, even if that's a low bar to clear.
Ngl Estee, the amount of people who get deranged over your work is bizarre and says a hell of a lot more about them then you. Your work is a good (very good I might add) alternate take on the franchise, bright with a darker (realistic perhaps?) underbelly. However it's still just a single interpretation, it's no more damaging to these individuals then the Kamen Rider crossovers or innumerable shipping stories. Which I've yet to hear major grumbling about.
In short, fuck the haters, they need help.
"Don't cry for me Argentina..."
I'm kind of new here. What is Estee's special relationship with Jack Braun and a piano?
I mean, I know there IS such a special connection, but I don't know what it is.
What a bizarre experience.
I talked myself into attending Ponyville Ciderfest three years in a row, and that feeling only ever multiplied.
5684503
Estee is known for killing pianos:
100% Move = 50% Fire
Was this meant to show them that they'd lost your business because they weren't open to walk-in customers at the time, or am I missing some other significance here?
This is probably a sign that I'm not very familiar with the Estee 'verse/saga, but... why? I mean, I can think of a few names on Fimfic that might inspire this kind of reaction, but Estee ain't one of them.
That's good for the long-term health of the convention, I think. I still remember the pillow covers on display in Bronycon 2019's vendor hall...
That's a wonderful sentiment right there.
5684520
Openly displayed?
That seems... unwise. Most conventions I've been to have had a firm rule that anything "naughty" (i.e. beyond PG-13, at most) has to be kept out of sight, and only shown to prospective buyers after you've confirmed that they're not wearing a minor's badge -- and usually, they also require the "display copy", as it were, to have the naughty parts covered up by stickers or post-it notes. Some cons even go so far as to have a separate room, or a partitioned-off- section, for dealers with "adults-only" wares for sale, with a con-security member posted outside the door checking badges to make sure no minors get past the checkpoint.
The former, most likely. "See this money? It could have been yours if you had been open for paying customers..."
I want you to have fun, sure. Don’t underestimate my selfishness though: I also want you to write! You need grist for that creative mill, comes from pony-related fun and suffering both.
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They were hanging pretty high up on the stalls - practically banners at that point. No naughty bits on display as far as I can remember, but those poses and expressions were pretty... suggestive.
I don't know if they were stricter in the past since it was my first Bronycon, but it wouldn't surprise me if people were flouting the rules because it was going to be the last one anyway.
I'm going to regret saying this I just know, but apparently I failed my will save vrs Shut Up this morning.
You're famous enough that your work and your fanbase is allowing to at least scrape by in AMERICA, where you basically have to rely on your fans to support you since the government won't.
Remember that, all else, all other factors, aside, that level of success, which you might think is laughable to the majority of the working population, is enviable by some of the rest of the audience.
Secondary Ongoing Save Verses Shut Up: Success, rant effect aborted.
Sounds like a mixed bag to me. Wish you could have had a better time. Thank you for writing up the experience in your blogs. Looking forward to seeing the next installment.
Glad the convention itself was... well, relatively good for you, at least.
Didn't drop any of them at this con.
I had them, I just didn't put them anywhere.
c.tenor.com/fyH1lZoSOpUAAAAC/speechless-nathan-fillion.gif
1, there's at minimum a Subway, Panera, Panda Express, Mod Pizza, within a 5 min walk of the hotel. I ate subway for three days straight.
2, The entire point of a pony con is not, I repeat, NOT, to find a group to fit in. Trying to get that to happen in a few days is going to be an exercise in frustration, especially for an introvert (I'd know, I'm one too. If I pulled the same thing I'd either be pulling my hair out by day one or sitting in my room all day on my phone)
The panels are a bonus.
The real treat is to call over friends to meet up IRL. If you're not going to do that it is literally a waste of time and a pointless effort of social anxiety to stay the full 3 days unless there's very specific things you want to do (merch, autographs, competitions, games, show off something). If I didn't have a group pre-arranged to meet up I'd be bored out of my mind, because I only found like, 6 panels over the entire weekend that interested me, and 2 I walked out halfway because the panels bored me. Instead I hung out with people.
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One of the reasons you go to conventions is to be with people.
One of the reasons I go to conventions is to be among people.
Mileage varies.
Also, given a choice between starvation and Subway, my burial preferences are...
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Mate, the reason I say this is because you seem to be very miserable drifting around the con not knowing what to do. If you want to be among people, simply find a public spot and wander around, no need to travel 1000 miles somewhere to do it.
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And yet I love travel in many ways, wanted to be there, and would prefer to have gone over not having attended at all.
More in the final blog. There's one more part to come.
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So you had ... fun? Doing this? Wandering around?