#(( all you following the story will soon realize me and my veterans hatred for him soon. probably in the next chapter. maybe ))

[bots-basket]

Safety in numbers #2

{ oho we got some spicy fighting in this chapter~ } " That brat's gotta be hiding around here somewhere! keep looking!" The intruders inside the main hall were practically tearing the place apart as they searched for the girl they were chasing earlier. It was always such a pain whenever she was involved in their bosses business, and even more annoying when she got away. But it's best not to complain about it less they receive their boss's wrath instead of her... ugh. Hopefully they'll be able to find her quickly and return to the base without much hassle. Unfortunately for them, A certain maestro wasn't going to be letting that happen anytime soon. Balan had been watching them for a few minutes as they made quite the mess of his theater. it was obvious he didn't particularly care for the sort of negative aura they were giving off as a look of distaste found it's way onto his face.. Especially when they referred to the child as 'That Brat'. It was probably about time for him to make himself known to these 'unexpected visitors' as he revealed himself in his usual showy manner, practically spooking them immediately as he loomed over them. " Loose something gentlemen?"

" WHAT THE HECK-!? ITS A GHOST!!" ~ the first goon screeched as he and 3 more men clumped together and backed up from the tall dapper maestro. Yo nobody said this was some sorta haunted mansion!

The fourth man however wasn't too deterred by the sudden appearance of Balan. " it's not a ghost, just the dumb mascot of the theatre! And if he know's what good for him, he'll mind his own darn business and run along before he gets himself hurt." The man gruffly said as he pulled a switchblade from his pocket. the other men were quick to catch onto their other's plan and pulled out a few poles from their backpacks. " Ah, You might say that. But what happens in my theater does happen to be my business~"

Balan hummed however as he didn't look to intimated by them. infact- a glint of mischievousness flashed in his golden yellow eyes. Ah. so they're Those kind of men, eh? well simply wont do. "Now I'm going to have to politely ask you to put away those weapons, as they're against theatre policy. We Wouldn't want you to hurt yourselves after all~" ~ He smiled as there was another flash in his eyes, but it wasn't one of his usual playful manner.. but more of a warning glance. It would be ill advised of them to attempt such a dangerous stunt- since they obviously aren't trained professionals like Balan is after all.

Sadly some people just can't take a hint. "oh, So we're dealing with a smart alec eh? Common boys, Lets teach this bogus Actor some manners!" The man commanded as he charged Balan and got ready to slash at the tall figure. Balan just simply shrugged with a quiet huff as he flipped over the man with ease, letting him crash into the boxes behind him. The other quick to follow after the first's lead as they swung their poles at the maestro. Balan hummed in amusement as he dodged their attacks in a playful and flamboyant manner. With every swing that missed him the men began to grow hot with this fancy man's antics. How could he move so quickly and fluidly!? Just what was this guy!? As Soon as they weren't paying attention to what they were doing, Balan took hold of their poles and spun them around, until the force of the momentum made them let go and sent them flying into a strategically placed couch; The mere force of them lading into it caused the whole couch to topple over onto it's side. The last man still standing tried to catch Balan off guard with a sneak attack- only to end up being caught off guard himself when Balan slipped into his hat form and swirled around him- knocking the weapon out of the man's hand before popping out once again to his full height. With his usual grin and eyes full of mischief, he leaned in close to the now wide eyed intruder. "Boo~" The man let out a shriek as he and the rest of the goons scrambled to get away from Balan. Surprisingly enough they found their way out of the theatre Quickly without much problems... Almost as if they knew they weren't welcomed there. As they caught their breath, one of the goons looked up and saw someone silently approaching them. He gasped and dropped to his knees as the figure of a man stood in front of him. The man's hand gently fingered his own crimson Red locks that lazily laid before his orange eyes. Removing his other hand from the pocket of his brown trench-coat, He gently picked up the chin of the goon with a dull gaze in his eyes. " Did you find her?" "Y..Yes sir. She's inside that theatre-! we tried to get her back! h-honest- But uh- that theatre is as haunted as the stories say! we even saw the creature that lives inside it!! It's Tough as nails- We barely made it out ALIVE!" the goon stuttered under the mans grip.. before he was released finally as the man slowly approached the opening of the theatre. A small yet Sickening smirk was laced on his face as he pulled a little purple capsule from out of his pocket. "...So the Local Cryptic Creatures wish to play? Alright then. Let's see how well they fair in a Game against me. Winner takes all~" ------- Rosie Felt a Shivver trickle down her spine.. something deep down told her things were only going to get worse on from here out.. Welp. At least wherever she is now there's plenty of places to hide. She walked down the sunny pathways gently holding onto those four mindcores orbs in her hoodie pocket- completely unaware of the other inhabitants in this place... and how a certain Dark Cryptic creature had just laid his eyes upon her..

[zoopzopp]

a list of some ~angsty~ izuku-centric fics

He Was Quirkless by PruneyWitch - Midoriya get's sick of discrimination against the quirkless and decides to do something about it. It leads to some interesting situations. A trilogy.

survival instinct by carolinaa - Izuku's always had the vague feeling that trusting people is more trouble than it's worth. A villain's quirk makes him realize how painful trust can be, too.

every memory is a drop in the ocean by wastefulreverie - Izuku's memory was heavy. It felt like he'd been asleep for a very long time even though he was fairly certain that he'd just met All Might on a rooftop. They said that he was a student at UA High School and that he'd been hit with a memory erasure quirk, but that couldn't be right? Izuku was quirkless. Even All Might said he'd never be a hero.

invitation by achievingelysium - He didn’t like birthdays. He didn’t like celebrating birthdays, because no one cared about Izuku’s birthday, about the stupid, Quirkless kid of Aldera— Izuku kicked at his desk. Stared at the edge of it blankly for a moment. Sixteen. He’d made it to sixteen. Izuku thinks he'll celebrate his birthday alone. His friends disagree. (this ones angsty but also sweet and fluffy)

(paid for it) with all of my blood by theshoutingslytherin - As it turns out, Midoriya has more in common with him than Hitoshi ever realized.

things my heart used to know by aloneintherain - The first time Izuku remembers meeting Shouto, he’s fourteen years old and immediately smitten. (AU where Izuku keeps getting killed during their first year at UA—so Shouto keeps travelling back in time to save him.)

absolution by Argentina - In which there are always two sides to the same story, and as Shouta delves further into Midoriya and Bakugou's middle school years, he discovers that they're both victims of a broken society.

hold your heart fast by achievingelysium - In the aftermath of a villain fight, Izuku can't understand why Eri seems so scared of him. Or Aizawa-sensei, one of the people he trusts most.

But Who Saves You? by poe_tate_toe - The room was silent. The only sound was Izuku’s cries, the boy still writhing around in his arms that made Shouta’s heart break and heartbreakshatter. “Get out.” Shouta demanded, eyes still trained on All Might, voice filled with hatred and contempt. “Now.”

a lesson you should heed (try, try again) by aloneintherain - Izuku doesn't know why the day keeps resetting. He doesn't know why he's trapped on campus, or why there's no phone reception, or why Aizawa and Shinsou keep losing their memories of the Saturdays they've already lived, while Izuku remains constantly, painfully aware. But he does know this: Aizawa and Shinsou keep dying, over and over again, in more brutal and creative ways. And it's his job to save them.

All Fun And Games Until I Actually Die by SpeedingCheetah - Izuku Midoriya would do nearly anything to reach the goals he had. He’d take risks and make bargains with those who he thought he would have never chosen to work with; He’d even die. He’d joke around and make himself feel better by resetting from the misery he experienced each night on patrol, each hour when his thoughts turned bitter and hateful. But such actions couldn’t be used forever. After all, it was only all fun and games until he actually died. And when Izuku told someone this, he wasn’t too sure as to what he was thinking.

Never understand ( and you can't ) by deliha__bells - " I was four when someone first used their quirk on me." Midoriya is sick and tried of his classmates bias and prejudice against the quirkless community and finally breaks

a penny for your thoughts by cassiopeia721 - While visiting Eri at the hospital following her rescue from the Shie Hassaikai, Izuku and Aizawa-sensei both run into a nurse with a telepathy based quirk, and Izuku finds himself in a telepathic bond with his teacher. This is... somewhat worrying, considering how many secrets Izuku needs to keep.

For the greater good by rabiddog (orphan_account) - "Somebody needs to stay behind." "Don't worry, Kacchan! I'll be fine. Just make sure everyone gets out safely, okay?"

Live For Everything, Die For Everyone by Eurybia773 - Midoriya Izuku is kidnapped and Class 1-A goes to hell and back to keep him safe

The World Without Me by BeyondTheClouds777 - When Izuku dies, he realizes he’s not as Quirkless as he thought. He does indeed have a Quirk, one called “Second Chance” that gives him another chance at life after death. But the Quirk comes with an odd side-effect: he gets to see what the rest of the world is like without him first.

Lives of Future Past by HeartQuirk - An alternative take on de-ageing/swap quirks: Veteran Pro Hero Deku gets swapped into his own past, while his teenage self must navigate an uncertain and mysterious future.

Forgive, Not Forget by orphan_account - He stared out into the night, watching cars pass and stars twinkle. I never told him that I was sorry. Shit. How the hell could he have never thought to apologize? Bakugou had ostracized Deku from their friends, bullied, and tormented him all the way through middle school, to the point where Deku would cringe and cower whenever Bakugou glanced his way. His skin crawled as he remembered. Had he really done all of that? He was so full of shit, and now Deku was somewhere, bleeding out on a hospital bed because of Bakugou’s stupidity and he would never know that Bakugou was so, so, infinitely sorry.

You Never Asked by jongdaethedinosaur - aka: Izuku's smart enough to give Nedzu a headache, the League of Villains aren't all that bad, and Aizawa is trying his best

Heights by Gabberwocky - Or: 5 Times Katsuki Found Izuku on Rooftops and 1 Time Izuku Found Katsuki.

Reverse To Go Forwards by Otaku6337 - A certain Problem Child gets caught up in a Quirk manifestation and collapses in class. But when he wakes up, things aren't quite adding up. And why is he so skittish of everything, Bakugou in particular?

P.S. If he asks, tell Kacchan it's not his fault by JessenoSabaku - When Kacchan tells Midoriya to go kill himself in primary school, he takes it seriously. Not enough to actually kill himself, but he does try his hand at writing a note. Years later, he finds the note again, and he keeps it. For some reason, reading it makes him feel better when nights on patrol get rough. And then, one night, Kacchan finds it by accident.

i cant think of anymore rn but!! I'll update this soon!!!!

[gigslist]

34+ Voiceover Roles & 3 Musician Open Calls - Work From Home - Paid

'F*cking Sober' Podcast

22 + Roles

3 Open Calls for Musicians With Their Own Music

PAID WORK FROM HOME NON UNION

Deadline : September 15, 2021 2:00 PM

Somehow9am Productions // F*cking Sober: the first 90 days Podcast

Katie Mack, coord.

:"A call for artists in recovery for the 2nd Season of The Webby Award Winning Podcast Series 'F*cking Sober: the first 90 days.' We are looking for voice over talent and musicians/music producers for 'FS: Shadai.' 'F*cking Sober' is a semi-comedic mostly non-fictional narrative podcast following Shadai’s first 90 days of getting sober. Thirty-five year old Shadai is the black, queer, strong female in advertising— so what if she keeps shots in her bra for between meetings, right? But after a shitshow holiday party, a fuzzy cop encounter, and a disaster presentation with the new big account, Dry January doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. Maybe Dry Forever is better. This is what it looks, acts, and feels like to get f*cking sober. This 8 episode serialized show features music by artists with their own story with recovery. F*cking Sober Season 1: Anita has received 15k downloads since it’s release in Nov 2020, and received a 2021 Webby Nomination for Best Limited Series, and a Webby Win for Best Writing for a Podcast. At this time we are only looking to work with artists who have a relationship/understanding of recovery. Please follow instructions for submitting and what to include in the cover letter to be considered! Thank you! Listen to Season 1 to get the vibe: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/f-cking-sober-the-first-90-days/id1538804959?i=1000499155627 And check out: www.fckingsoberpodcast.com @fckingsober90_podcast More information about Somehow9am Productions & Katie Mack (Producer): www.somehow9amproductions.com www.mackstage.com"

Roles

Shadai (Voiceover): Female, 18+WORK FROM HOMEproduction states: "Note: We are only accepting submissions from artists who have their own story in recovery, TY! 35 year old, black, queer, cis gender female attorney with a dry sense of humor, who has strong opinions and shares them sometimes, is a powerhouse and knows it all… until… until she doesn’t. Please note your experience with improv/comedy in your cover letter If you have writing experience or are interested in writing please note this in your cover letter. We will be giving writing credits to the right candidate who desires to contribute to the molding of this character."Required Media: Voice Reel

Other Characters (Voiceover): 20-70

"Note: We are only accepting submissions from artists who have their own story in recovery, TY! We are looking for diversity in every sense of the word, from all genders, to ages, to ethnicities, to lived experiences, to food preferences!! In short, we are looking to cast dope, interesting people. Looking to cast various characters through out the S2 Shadai, including but not limited to:

Dad (black, army veteran, a dad’s dad)

Mom (black, hyper critical, the opposite of Shadai)

Dana (any ethnicity, work enemy)

Coco (white, work bestie)

JewBoo aka Therapist (Jewish, confidant, motherly, with a special sense of humor)

Miriam (black, best friend and ex-lover who tells it like it is)

Galen (white, gay, best friend who is warm and caring and pushy)

15 other characters Please note any experience you may have with comedy/improv if any. Please submit your reel along with your cover letter."Required Media: Voice Reel, Cover Letter

Musicians (BIPOC Artists in Recovery) (Voiceover): 18+ music from BIPOC identifying artists.

Musicians (Queer Identifying Artist in Recovery) (Voiceover): 18+ music by Queer Artists.

Musicians (Non-BIPOC/Non-Queer Artists in Recovery) (Voiceover): 18+ music from non-BIPOC or non-Queer Identifying Artists in recovery.

"To be produced over the course of October 2021 - January 2022 Shadai’s commitment is estimated at two hrs/wk. Other characters 30mins. Musicians, all work should already exist. Please be prepared to send stems or stripped down tracks."

Compensation & Union Contract Details

Stipend: $25 - $75Production states: "Shadai (Lead Character), $550 for full season. All Other Characters: $25-$50 per episode. Musicians: $25-$75 per song per episode. Sync license contract."

Seeking talent: Nationwide (United States)

Website:http://www.fckingsoberpodcast.com

======================================

'Rain: Series III'

12 Voiceover Roles

PAID WORK FROM HOME NONUNION

Deadline: September 14, 2021 8:59 PM

JKPRising James Klim, filmmaker

Seeking voiceover talent for "Rain: Series III," a web-series, created in the video game Halo Reach on MCC via Xbox/PC. "This series will have a total of 13 episodes. I have many characters to cast, 12 specifically. If you wish to learn more about the show, you can check out my documentary series regarding the show. You can view the first episode here - www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlzPQvJS3og A little bit about me, I am a freelance filmmaker who actually got into film through making Halo videos as a kid when I was younger. You can check out some of my work here - www.jkprising.com/ I've always wanted to return to my roots & finish a series I was never able to before, but now I have the time to focus on it. This is a paid position. Rates depend on each character as some have more lines than others & vice versa. I am not the wealthiest person in the world, but I will to compensate each voice actor for their performance. My budget per character is between $100 - $300. This again, all varies per character. In this post, there is a video of what the character will look like in the series. I have also attached a single page from a random episode script from the show. The highlighted lines are what the character will say. There will also be non verbal lines highlighted, this is meant to be voiced kind of like an anime, where every movement usually has sounds. Typically, how would you make a sound if you did any of the following, head turn, turns around, surprised gasp, sighs, etc. Since this a paid gig, I am expecting a professional voice audition & if hired, continued professional audio. This means minimum to no background noise. The audio needs to be crisp."

Roles

Chloe Moody (Voiceover): Female, 18-35WORK FROM HOME29. Voice type: English/United Kingdom accent, polite, doesn't get mad often but when she does, she loses it, anxious, low self esteem, hopeful. Chloe Moody used to be a psychiatrist, but after the death of her soon to be husband, she spiraled into insanity. She met someone later on in life named Tom Rains, who looked exactly like her dead boyfriend. She became obsessed with him & tried to get with him, which sunk her further into a deep depression. She finally hit rock bottom, which causes her to seek out help from the very people she used to serve. Chloe meets a psychiatrist named Jennifer, who is able to help herself almost fully recover. Chloe eventually accidently runs back into Tom, which triggers Chloe to try one last time. After a final rejection, Chloe comes to the realization that she is not redeemable & decides to take her own life in front of Tom. Chloe's death, triggers a massive event for Tom Rains, which has massive ramifications for the series. Chloe is a major character and will appear in a couple episodes.Languages:

English

Accents:

British

Australian

Voice Styles:

Soft

Softspoken

Crazy

Compassionate

Sad

Angry

Required Media: Voice Reel

Dark Daryl (Voiceover): Male, 18-40WORK FROM HOME

32, voice type: Very dark presence, evil. sadistic, look at examples like Yami Marik from the Original Yu-Gi-Oh - www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xaa_ycud6o, manic, darkness. Dark Daryl is the darkness of his original persona, Daryl. Daryl accidentally acquired a powerful technology known as an imperium. This caused Daryl to lose himself to it at some point & was taken over by an alternate personality named, The Professor, which caused tons of damage. When Daryl came back to his senses, the damage had been done & others abandoned him, which caused him to grow angry at something that he didn't consciously do. Daryl once again loses himself to the imperium, which turns into Dark Daryl, a representation of all the anger & hatred he endured over the course of his past uncontrollable actions. Dark Daryl is very aggressive, sadistic & wants to destroy the people who wronged him in the past. Eventually, he comes face to face with Daryl & fights to stay as the one who remains in control, even if that means killing Daryl & anyone who gets in his way. Dark Daryl is a character who appears in the second half of the show, & becomes the series main villain. He will appear in many episodes.

Languages:

English

Voice Styles:

Aggressive

Angry

Evil

Commanding

Straightforward

Scary

Dangerous

Intimidating

Demonic

Required Media: Voice Reel

Nikki (Voiceover): Female, 18-35 WORK FROM HOME

25. Voice type: Energetic, passionate, caring, open-minded, loving, positive, independent, fighter. Nikki used to date Tom Rains. She didn't really have much going for her, as she had no ambition at all during that time of her life. After Tom broke up with her, this was quite the shock to Nikki. It caused her to really dive deep within herself & from that moment, she tried to learn more about herself. She discovered a love for storytelling, & so went into journalism. Nikki is now dating Jennifer & they have been together for almost a year. Nikki eventually gets wrapped up in a major conspiracy, which drags many of her friends in with her. She is in for the story of her entire career. Nikki is a major character and will appear in many episodes.

Languages:

English

Voice Styles:

Comforting

Compassionate

Caring

Amusing

Animated

Brave

Heroic

Required Media: Voice Reel

Talent works remotely with professional recording equipment.

Professional Pay: $100 - $300Pays between $100-$300 depending on character.

Nationwide (United States)

Additional Materials

Website: https://www.jkprising.com/

Nikki Audition.pdf - https://d26oc3sg82pgk3.cloudfront.net/files/media/uploads/casting_call/7f95c65b-ab53-43d3-a66b-9e59d1041acb.pdf

Dark Daryl Audition.pdf - https://d26oc3sg82pgk3.cloudfront.net/files/media/uploads/casting_call/00cfdf46-84c1-4da6-9dee-91c7bcdeed3d.pdf

Chloe Moody Audition.pdf https://d26oc3sg82pgk3.cloudfront.net/files/media/uploads/casting_call/186cbe9e-9c7e-4ce5-bcbe-2407a9dec00b.pdf

[cinemavariety]

The Director’s Series: Paul Thomas Anderson

The director series will consist of me concentrating on the filmography of all my favorite directors. I will rank each of their films according to my personal taste. I hope this project will provide everyone with quality recommendations and insight into films that they might not have known about. Today’s director in spotlight is Paul Thomas Anderson

#8 - Hard Eight (1998) Runtime: 1 hr 42 min     Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1             Film Format: 35mm

John has lost all his money. He sits outside a diner in the desert when Sydney happens along, buys him coffee, then takes him to Reno and shows him how to get a free room without losing much money. Under Sydney's fatherly tutelage, John becomes a successful small-time professional gambler, and all is well, until he falls for Clementine, a cocktail waitress and sometimes hooker. 

Verdict: One of the most impressive feature film debuts ever blessed to American cinema. Paul Thomas Anderson was only 25 years old when he broke into the scene and directed this (almost three years younger than me now, how depressing). While it is consistently thrilling and entertaining, Hard Eight oftentimes wears its influences on its sleeve too much. You can see how much inspiration Paul got from Tarantino with this film and it’s one of the 90s best independent movies. The star studded cast doesn’t hurt either.

#7 - Phantom Thread (2017) Runtime: 2 hr 10 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Renowned British dressmaker Reynolds Woodcock comes across Alma, a young, strong-willed woman, who soon becomes a fixture in his life as his muse and lover. Verdict: It’s safe to say that Phantom Thread is PTA’s most lavish and decadent film. It feels like a piece of ancient Hollywood golden-era cinema brought back to life. Johnny Greenwood’s orchestral score is the best sound work he’s ever done, it sweeps you off your feet when it goes along with Anderson’s signature arresting imagery. I’m in the minority who places this near the bottom of Anderson’s filmography, simply because Daniel Day Lewis’s character is so insufferable that it was hard for me to empathize in many ways. It still manages to be one of the most beautiful pieces of modern cinema.

#6 - Inherent Vice (2014) Runtime: 2 hr 28 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

In Los Angeles at the turn of the 1970s, drug-fueled detective Larry “Doc” Sportello investigates the disappearance of an ex-girlfriend. 

Verdict: Inherent Vice is Paul Thomas Anderson’s most underrated gem. I’ll admit, when I first saw this film, I didn’t really dig it that much and immediately cast it aside as his weakest effort. However, after some maturity, a few more viewings, and also not 100% adoring Phantom Thread, I have developed an immense appreciation for this nonsensical Thomas Pynchon adaptation. Pynchon as a writer is known as being basically unadaptable, but PTA revels in the absurdity of the film’s labyrinth of a plot. It also brings PTA back to his former glory days of ensemble casts and stoner drug fueled mayhem.

#5 - Punch-Drunk Love (2002) Runtime: 1 hr 35 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A psychologically troubled novelty supplier is nudged towards a romance with an English woman, all the while being extorted by a phone-sex line run by a crooked mattress salesman, and purchasing stunning amounts of pudding.  

Verdict: Punch-Drunk Love plays out like a symphony of color, texture, and absolutely off-putting social interactions. I understand that Adam Sandler had his comeback last year with Uncut Gems, but this film is actually without a doubt the best performance he’s ever pulled off. And I credit that largely in part to the brilliance of Paul who was working behind him. It’s what I would say one of the most unconventional romantic comedies of all time. It’s nerve wracking, a little sad, super awkward - but also somehow manages to be endearing as well. The percussion heavy score brings manic energy to the whole film. Punch-Drunk Love is also a powerful statement on loneliness, unchecked mental illness, and the power of human connection.

#4 - Boogie Nights (1997) Runtime: 2 hr 35 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 & 1.66 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Adult film director Jack Horner is always on the lookout for new talent and it's only by chance that he meets Eddie Adams who is working as a busboy in a restaurant. Eddie is young, good looking and plenty of libido to spare. Using the screen name Dirk Diggler, he quickly rises to the top of his industry winning awards year after year. Drugs and ego however come between Dirk and those around him and he soon finds that fame is fleeting. 

Verdict: How this film possibly came from a director who is my age now is almost hard to believe. Boogie Nights is one of the quintessential 90s films. It has one of PTA’s best ensemble casts. Anderson’s sophomore effort was a result of the auteur finding his footing and his directorial voice that went on to enthrall audiences over several decades. PTA’s early visual motifs were lengthy and expertly choreographed tracking shots. Please refer to the scenes in the disco as well as the pool party scene pictured above for some of the best camera operation every committed to celluloid. Boogie Nights could possibly be hailed as PTA’s most consistently entertaining and audience friendly works. It’s a great story of the rise and fall of stardom.

#3 - There Will Be Blood (2007) Runtime: 2 hr 38 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A story of family, religion, hatred, oil and madness, focusing on a turn-of-the-century prospector in the early days of the business. 

Verdict: Most critics and audiences would agree that There Will Be Blood is the director’s most impressive masterpiece (but who’s counting?). On a storytelling and technical level, I do have to agree that this is probably Paul Thomas Anderson’s best achievement, even if it isn’t exactly my personal favorite. This is the film where PTA really matured with his directorial vision. He abandoned a lot of his earlier flashy work with large casts and a constantly moving camera for something more grounded and more of a character study. There Will be Blood is the story of America in many ways. It’s the story of Capitalism. And how this system leads to so much bloodshed, greed, and hatred as man and man compete to have the most and be the best. This movie will surely stand the test of time and is a shining example of how groundbreaking modern American cinema can be.

#2 - Magnolia (1999) Runtime: 3 hr 8 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

An epic mosaic of interrelated characters in search of love, forgiveness, and meaning in the San Fernando Valley.

Verdict: Paul Thomas Anderson’s third film found the director taking everything he had learned on his previous two, and expanding on that knowledge and developing more layers to his characters who have never felt so fully realized. Magnolia is the director’s magnum opus. It is epic in its length - clocking in at a little over three hours, making it his longest film by far. It is ambitious in its storytelling approach. Many films utilize the style of a variety of seemingly unrelated characters who connect to each other, oftentimes in a synchronistic fashion as they go about the trials and tribulations of their lives. However Magnolia is one of the few that did it first, did it the best, and set the bar for all of the subpar imitations that would soon follow. It’s also profoundly beautiful in the statements that PTA was trying to make. Paul, just barely 30 years old at the time when this was released, most definitely had an emotional and intellectual maturity that is rarely seen within a director of that age range. Magnolia is about redemption, loss, forgiveness, love, and trying to keep your head above water as frogs rain down on your head.

#1 - The Master (2012) Runtime: 2 hr 18 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm & 70mm

Freddie, a volatile, heavy-drinking veteran who suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder, finds some semblance of a family when he stumbles onto the ship of Lancaster Dodd, the charismatic leader of a new “religion” he forms after World War II. 

Verdict: I’ve always been drawn to films about cults. Something about social behavior and social roles within a cult organization is a really interesting study on a sociological, psychological and anthropological level. The Master takes the cult formula and turns it on its head in many ways, never once foraying into the territory of exploitation or tropes. It instead takes a wholly original approach to the story. I mean, it is Paul Thomas Anderson that we’re talking about here. Joaquin Phoenix delivers his most unhinged, and certainly his most impressive, performance of his career as a mentally damaged alcoholic war veteran with pretty severe PTSD. The Master is also in many ways the story of the founding father of Scientology - L. Ron Hubbard. However, let’s just say it is a Scientology movie “in disguise” as no real historical names are ever spoke, the word “Scientology” is never uttered once, and even the director himself refuses to admit that’s what it is about (I mean who can blame him? He once had to work with Tom Cruise). It is one of the most fascinating character studies I’ve ever seen. Not to mention, it is PTA’s most beautifully shot film in my opinion and Johnny Greenwood’s musical contributions to the score elevate this film to ultimate masterpiece status. By the end, I felt like I had just undergone a transcendent experience of sorts. I hope one day PTA can make a film that “wows” me ever more than this one does.

[emeraldwaves]

Title:  Undercover Emotions Chapter 4 Pairing:  Promptio, Highspecs Rating: E Word Count:  4,432 Read on Ao3 Summary: Rookie cop Prompto Argentum gets sent undercover with veteran Aranea Highwind in hopes of taking down the Caelums, longtime leaders of organized crime in Insomnia. After being assigned to assist Gladiolus Amicitia and Ignis Scientia, the pair dive deeper into the criminal underworld and find themselves caught up in a variety of shady dealings. However, when Prompto starts to learn who Gladiolus really is, his loyalties begin to shift in a direction he never expected.

Full fic under the cut! thanks to @liziscribbles for betaing this!

"You know, for someone who had no shootin' experience, you were pretty good," Gladio said and it made Prompto jump.

"J-Just a fluke I guess." He laughed nervously. "Or... maybe I just had a really good teacher." He winked in Gladio's direction, trying to play it as cool as possible.

Gladio smirked. "I guess you're my shooting protege!"

"Yup!" Prompto said, posing in front of him, looking proud.

"You're too cute," he snorted, shaking his head as he flipped through the files. His voice was so casual, so relaxed about the whole situation and Prompto's face immediately began to turn red.

"A-Ah... Cute?! I'm not cute, I'm badass!" Prompto retorted awkwardly.

Gladio burst out laughing, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead. "Ya' realize by saying that it only makes me think you're even cuter."

Prompto folded his arms over his chest and puffed out his cheeks. "Whatever," he grumbled.

"You're pretty badass too, I guess." Gladio added.

Flushing, Prompto glanced away. Why was Gladio always so damn handsome?! And why did Prompto feel his heart start to race when he complimented him?

It was so stupid, Gladio didn't even know the real him. Gladio knew Prom, the nervous, newbie assistant. He didn't know anything about Prompto... a cop, trying to take him down from the inside.

When Gladio was nice, occasionally Prompto would feel a pang of uncertainty. He had come into this expecting to hate the man. Hell, he'd even spent a long damn time brushing up on his acting skills, nervous his hatred would shine through. But now, Gladio could potentially figure him out just by being so damn nice to him.

The phone rang and Prompto jumped again. Lately, he thought he was going to die of a heart attack from how freaking on edge he was.

"Yeah... uh huh..." Gladio nodded, glancing Prompto's way. "Whaddya mean he won't pay up!?" An angry looked crossed Gladio's face, one that suited his scarred features.

Perhaps Prompto had judged Gladio too soon. Admittedly, he had been waiting for the real Gladio to slowly reveal himself. So far, Prompto had only seen the man's softer sides; a man who loved to read, enjoyed his silence, but didn't mind the occasional conversation. He liked the stars too, had mentioned it to Prompto a few times. Even when they went to the shooting range together, they'd been far away from civilization and only shot at scarecrows.

But he worked for the mafia, had grown up in the mafia... he couldn't always be as kind as he seemed. It felt so out of place.

"No. Hell no. I'll be going there right now! I gotta take these bastards off guard." Gladio snorted and slammed the phone down. "Y'ready, Prom?" he said, pulling Prompto from his thoughts.

"Eh?" he responded, glancing up as Gladio slammed a gun down on his desk.

"We're going. It's time for your first real job," he smirked.

Prompto couldn't help but swallow. Picking up the gun, he pushed away from his desk and nodded. "R-Right."

"There's no need to be scared. We just need to ask them for the money they owe us. We delivered their goods, so they gotta deliver the cash," Gladio explained. "Nothing scary. Guns are just precaution," he added, tucking his into his holster.

"'Course!" Prompto shrugged, trying to act casual as he followed Gladio out of the office.

He had to stop letting his guard down.

~~

"Nea, can you hand me the file labeled 'food'?" Ignis began.

"Of course," she said, biting back her frustration. Unlike Prompto, things were moving at a snail’s pace for Aranea. Ignis didn't trust her with anything, and she'd barely left the office.

Prompto was plenty capable, but Aranea had her worries. He'd been extremely jumpy the entire time being here, even when they met in private he seemed nervous. Additionally, he also mentioned not finding Gladio to be a terrible person. She could tell it was messing with his mind, since he was a rookie.

She glanced towards Ignis. He wasn't so terrible himself. In fact, he'd barely done anything harmful. So far, he'd been so worried about his Uncle and preparing this gala, which he seemed to be doing most of the work for.

Plus, he had told her of his plans, to make the mafia better, more clean. It was impossible to believe. Years of horrible behavior, underground smuggling... things like that didn't just go away. Once you were in the life of organized crime, it was very difficult to get out, but Ignis had spoken so genuinely about his feelings behind the plan, and how complicated it would be... maybe it was true. Maybe he really wanted to turn things around, maybe they all did.

Or maybe, Aranea just wanted it to be true.

There were two sides to every story, and while Aranea didn't think Ignis was a monster, she also didn't think there was anyway he was the perfect angel, or even the normal man he made himself out to be. There had to be more underneath. She just had to figure out how to get there.

"I don't know how I feel about this catering company," he sighed. "If I had the time I would cook all the food myself. I'm sure my recipes would taste far better than some of these dishes they're offering."

She reached forward and placed the folder in his hand, letting her fingers linger over his. She gently stroked his hand as she pulled hers away slowly. "I didn't realize you were such a food connoisseur," she purred, letting words roll off her tongue.

When she had to, she could play dirty. She only hoped Ignis was the type of man to fall for such a tactic.

"Ah yes. Admittedly, I would spend most of my time in the kitchen if given the opportunity to do so," he said. His gaze followed her hand momentarily, but he shook his head, glancing back at the file.

"Alright then," she chuckled, and leaned her hip against his desk. She folded her arms under her chest, pushing her breasts up. "I would love to try something of yours."

He glanced up at her, his eyes widening for a moment. He cleared his throat, pressing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Well," he began, "I would be happy to make something for you one of these days. Perhaps we could share lunch together."

She smiled, happy to see red dusting his cheeks. "I would love that," she grinned, letting her hand touch his shoulder lightly.

"Yes, as you know I am quite busy... but I... should take time do things I enjoy," he muttered.

"'Course you should," she smiled. "You're gonna work yourself to death. You need to do some... fun things once and awhile, Specs." She winked.

"Right," he choked out, as if he had finally realized just how close she was. "Gladiolus certainly does, which is why I'm left doing most of the work."

"You know," she began, sliding her hand up to Ignis' neck, "it's not fair you get saddled with so much. We gotta talk to Noctis and Gladio, whip them into shape." She giggled deeply, massaging at his bare skin.

"Mm..." he grunted, leaning into the touch. "You are correct, Ms... Nea, however, neither of them ever know what they're doing and in the end it creates more work for me."

"Well that's not very fair now is it," she said softly, moving to stand behind him. She let her hands glide over his shoulders, gently squeezing as she massaged at his back. "You need to learn to relax," she hummed.

"It's quite alright, Nea, you do not have to-"

"I want to," she whispered, leaning down towards his ear.

"I-"

"Specs, ya gotta relax more. You're holding so much tension here in your neck and shoulders, I can only imagine what... the rest of your body is like," she said with a soft laugh. "You need to take care of yourself, or let others-"

Reaching back, he grabbed her wrist and stopped her. She slowly stepped back, not wanting to push her boundary or make him feel uncomfortable.

"I... I apologize, Nea," he said, slowly lowering his hand. He turned his chair to look up at her, his face red.

"Nah, you don't gotta apologize, Specs," she said trying to brush it off. But the way his fingers had wrapped around her wrist so quickly had taken her off guard. Ignis was far stronger than he let on. She couldn't let her guard down.

"It's... " he sighed and covered his eyes for a moment. "You are a very lovely woman," he breathed. "And-"

"Ignis, you don't have to-"

"No! No, please, I... feel I should explain," he sighed. "If I had met you under any other circumstance, perhaps I would have asked you to dinner, or better yet, cooked my own meal for you. But I... I can't be held back by... distractions."

It was Aranea's turn to blush. She had wanted to get under his skin, and apparently she had, just not in the way she expected. He was such a gentleman about it all.

"You are quite lovely, and you are here in my office everyday. But I am not Gladio and I am not about to put you in an uncomfortable situation. Nor do I have time to focus on you in a way I would like to were we to be... together."

Aranea swallowed. Ignis liked her? She supposed it shouldn't be too shocking, given the circumstance. And yet...

"Right, yeah" she said. "I overstepped."

"No! Please do not look at it as such..." Ignis said, shaking his head. "You are a wonderful lady and I wouldn't wish for you to think you did anything wrong." He glanced down. "I think this is for the best. We must keep things... professional."

"Gotcha," she nodded, making her way back to her seat as she attempted to still her beating heart and process what just happened.

~~

The warehouse down by the docks was much smaller than Prompto expected. Gulls cried out across the sky and it smelled of moldy sea air, the smell making Prompto's nose wrinkle in disgust. The whole place was falling apart. Windows were rusted, some broken, and there were large stacks of damp boxes outside too.

"Is this where you sell stuff?" Prompto asked quietly as the two approached the main entrance.

Gladio turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Hell no, Prom! We're classier than this. We sold some shipping product to this guy because he told us he could save us money on shipments, but all he's done is take our product and not pay us back. We've paid him plenty," he explained, his voice a low growl. "This is the second time I've been here, and it looks way worse for wear this time," he snorted.

"Huh..." he mumbled, glancing around at the musty crates next to him. "What do you guys ship exactly?"

"Weapons," Gladio said flatly. "S'not always illegal, but some of them aren't sanctioned in Insomnia. We gotta be discreet. A lot of the deals are done under the table, no tracking."

Prompto bit his lip. They were selling weapons... weapons which hurt innocent people, which created war. Gladio was most likely behind far more death and destruction than Prompto initially realized.

Gladio's face softened when he turned to look at Prompto. "I promise you. I'm not gonna let you get hurt. These guys... they're nothing, usually wusses." He paused to chuckle softly. "The second we walk in there, they'll panic and pay up. That's how it usually goes down, piece of cake," he smirked and gave Prompto's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

It was nice of Gladio to reassure him, but Prompto was far more concerned about the bigger picture, not necessarily this one job. "Right, yeah," he laughed nervously, his hand ghosting over the gun in his holster. "I'm ready."

"Good," Gladio smirked, and walked over towards the door. He knocked once. No answer. "Hm..." he mumbled, and knocked again. Still no answer. "Oi! Open up, this is Gladiolus from Armiger Trading!"

Turning back to look at Prompto, Gladio immediately grinned. "Guess we're kicking down the door."

"EH!?" Prompto gasped, trying not to be loud. "B-But what if they're just not home!"

"Oh, they're home," Gladio smirked and slammed his foot against the door. Shortly after he shoved his shoulder into it.

The wood looked as though it was already partially rotting from the damp, salty air around it, and Prompto had a feeling it wasn't going to hold for long. Another bash from Gladio and the wood cracked, the now very broken door swinging open.

As soon as Gladio stepped inside, a gunshot sounded out in the warehouse, and Gladio yanked Prompto inside pulling him behind a stack of boxes. "W-Woah!" Prompto called out, covering his mouth as he stumbled to kneel down next to him.

"Dammit," Gladio hissed. "Never can be easy..."

"I thought you said it was usually easy!" Prompto hissed, his eyes peering over the box momentarily.

"Stay down, idiot," Gladio said, pushing on Prompto's head. "I dunno, it varies!" he shrugged. "I didn't think they'd have the balls to actually fight us."

"We don't have your money!" A voice called out, from far in the back of the warehouse. It sounded scared. Was it just one guy?

"That's too bad!" Gladio called back. "I really wanted to have a nice conversation with ya', but it seems we're gonna do this the hard way!" There was no answer, and Gladio shrugged. "Stay here, Prom. I don't want you to get caught in this."

"Wait, but-"

Gladio rolled forward before Prompto could respond. More gun shots fired out, definitely multiple men. Prompto peered around the crate, noticing Gladio loading his pistol. Glancing down at his own gun, he took it out as well. He couldn't let Gladio die here, and he told himself it was because he still had so much of the undercover mission left. Hell, he hadn't even met Noctis yet.

Gladio stepped forward again, more gunshots firing in their direction, and this time Prompto moved closer too, sitting behind a box adjacent to Gladio's. Gladio leaned over the top, shooting the pistol towards the back of the warehouse. There was a masculine cry, as one of the bullets obviously connected.

"Got one," he smirked. "We gotta try and keep them alive so we can ask them where the money is."

Gladio stepped forward again, hiding behind a longer crate. Prompto glanced around, trying to take in his surroundings. He held his own gun close to his side, his hands trembling around it. He'd been in plenty of shootouts before as a cop, but something about this felt so different.

He turned up towards the rafters, noticing a man slinking towards Gladio's spot. He gasped, and aimed. "Gladio! Above you!" he called out, shooting at the man, only to miss. He ducked down and dove out of the way.

"Shit!" Gladio cried out, shooting his pistol towards the rafter. He hit the man, who fell backwards, rolling on the metal surface, gripping his shoulder. "Good call, Prom," he said, giving him a thumbs up.

Peering around the crate, Prompto saw two men running for the stairs. Thinking fast, he aimed for one of the men's leg, pulling the trigger. He immediately fell to the ground

Gladio smirked, giving Prompto an approving nod.

Moving forward, Prompto followed Gladio this time, watching as he slipped around another one of the boxes. Gladio shot up towards the rafters again, hitting the other man who had slipped by Prompto.

Gladio kept his gaze up there, his gun raised up, ready to take out any other men hiding up there. But Prompto's eyes widened when he saw a man charging directly for Gladio from the other side.

Gasping, he immediately raised up his gun, running towards Gladio. "Behind you!" he yelled, shooting the man in the shoulder and leg, watching as he fell to the ground. Blood seeped from the wound and Gladio peered over at the man.

"Holy shit, Prom," Gladio panted, glancing to the man writhing on the ground. "You saved my damn life. Glad ya' didn't listen to me," he winked. "This is the leader, but I don't know if there are more guys..."

Both of them immediately ducked down again, waiting for another noise, but none came. Scooting forward, Gladio wrapped his hand around the man's shirt, yanking him upwards. He whined, blood dripping from the wound Prompto had given him from his shoulder. "This is what happens when you fuck with us."

"T-There's... a box... in the backroom...with cash... just... take it," the man grunted.

Gladio released him, letting him fall to the floor, and he stepped over the body, walking towards the backroom. "C'mon Prom," he waved his arm.

Prompto kept his gun raised as he followed Gladio towards the back of the warehouse. There hadn't been too many men about, but he was wary of it being a trap.

"You really are a lucky shot," Gladio murmured, turning the door handle open. Just as the man had said, there was a locked box on the table, the key hanging on the wall. He turned the lock, pulling it from the box as his hands flipped through the wads of cash. "Hm... this probably isn't enough but I guess it'll do. Let's get the fuck out of here, Prom," he nodded, shutting the box once more and tucking it under his arm.

"I'm glad you're not walking away empty handed," Prompto said softly, looking at the bodies lying on the rafters when they walked by. He bit his lip. Who were these men? Had he harmed innocent people to ensure Gladio's safety? No... there was no way these men were kind people, not if they were dealing with shipments and weapons potentially...

And at least Gladio was alive. ...For the mission's sake.

"Yeah," he said, turning to look at Prompto. He placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "Thanks... for savin' me. I'm glad I had you here with me."

His cheeks heated up... Gladio was so genuinely grateful.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't gonna let you die. My adrenaline made me an awesome shot!" he laughed.

"Sure did," Gladio smirked. "Anyway, tomorrow we gotta stop by Noctis' place and drop this stuff off. Guess you're getting all the adventures lately."

Noctis' house... just where Prompto was supposed to be going. Soon, he'd know the location... have all the information they needed...

And yet...

The more Prompto stared, the deeper he dug his hole.

~~

"Alright... don't be mad."

"Gladiolus, when you preface something with 'don't be mad' it's rather difficult for me not to instinctually get mad," Ignis said. "There's no way you won't tell me something utterly ridiculous after saying that." He pressed his glasses up as he sat at the cafe, spending their usual time together.

"Touchy," Gladio said, clicking his tongue. "I know you're stressed Igs but damn!"

Admittedly it wasn't just stress. After his awkward conversation with Nea, he was on edge. He really liked her, he'd especially liked her touch. The way her fingers had caressed his skin, her light touches against his hand...

But he couldn't be distracted... he couldn't. Oh, but what he wouldn't have gave to just kiss her one time-

"I apologize, Gladio," he muttered. "Please... tell me whatever it is you wish to burden my day with."

The last thing he needed was Gladio stressing him out even more.

Gladio snorted and folded his arms. "Well, I almost died today."

"WHAT!?" Ignis yelled, clearing his throat as he tried to regain composure. It was certainly not what he expected to hear.

"I went to go collect from that shipping company, and Prom and I stormed the place and immediately got shot at! No one wants to have a conversation these days," Gladio shrugged dramatically.

"Well, I'm glad you're okay," Ignis said, finally taking a breath. "Why would that make me mad? Surprised..."

"That's not what I was gonna say," Gladio replied. "Prom was the one who saved my life... he shot a guy coming for me and dammit Iggy... I'm fallin' for him... I really am. I know you said I'm not allowed to sleep with my assistants anymore, but it's... more than just that," Gladio admitted.

Ignis let his mouth fall open. Here he was trying so damn hard not to do anything with Nea, and Gladio was off falling in love with his assistant. Okay, he hadn't said love...

"Gladiolus... I swear to you... if you lose another assistant-"

"Look Iggy, I won't lose another assistant. It's different, okay?"

"I don't see how it's different, it hasn't even been very long," he said, rubbing his face.

"I know, I know! I can't... explain it, it just is." A soft looked crossed Gladio's eyes, and Ignis hated that his best friend wasn't lying.

"Gladio, I can't stop you from doing anything. Yes, I said you're not allowed but there's no actual rule..."

Gladio smirked. "Yeah I know, but I respect you too much to not tell ya'."

"I appreciate that," Ignis nodded his head. "Like I said, I really cannot stop you. Nor... do I wish to, if this will truly make you happy."

"Thanks," Gladio said, nodding his head. "And y'know Igs... you shouldn't hold yourself back. If you want to do something fun or different... do it. The gala can wait a few hours."

"...I don't know what you're talking about."

Gladio rolled his eyes. "You can deny it all you want, but I saw how you were looking at 'Ms. Biggs' when you said goodbye this afternoon."

"Gladiolus..." Ignis warned.

"I don't know why you act like you can't have that sort of happiness."

Ignis shrugged. "I don't have the proper amount of time I would like to dedicate to such a thing."

"What are you talking about? Go to dinner with her one night instead of me! Just take her out!"

"Gladio, we work together. I need to focus on her getting her tasks done not... wishing to kiss her..."

"Aha!" Gladio teased, pointing at Ignis. "So you do wanna!"

"The thought may have crossed my mind once or twice..."

"So just go for it!"

"Absolutely not." He paused. "Maybe... after the gala..."

"There we go," Gladio smiled. "Coming from you, I'm going to consider that a win."

"Very funny," Ignis snorted.

But maybe Gladio was right. Maybe he was being too uptight about it all...

~~

"Why the long face shortcake? You're excelling at the mission," Aranea scoffed. Prompto could sense a hint of displeasure. He knew Aranea hated feeling useless, and so far, Ignis hadn't given her much wiggle room to make any sort of progress.

"I dunno..."

"Is it cause you killed some people? S'not like you haven't done that before."

"I know... I just... I saved Gladio's life today."

"Good thing you did too, cause now you're gonna get to Noctis' house."

Prompto sighed. She wasn't wrong... but he hadn't saved Gladio's life to keep the mission going. No... it had been more because he didn't want to see him die. He didn't want to lose him.

She placed the telephone down on top of the small table, connecting it to the outlet against the wall. "This should be secure enough. No one else has access to this room..." she said glancing around. "You have to call Cor."

"I know."

"Look, kid, you did the right thing, so stop beating yourself up and call the old man," she snorted, folding her arms as she leaned against the desk.

Picking up the phone, he put his finger on the first number and twisted it around, dialing the private line Cor had given them. It rung a few times before Cor answered.

"Lionheart," Prompto said into the phone, using the code word they had dictated.

"Hello Prompto," Cor deep tone echoed from the other end of the line.

"Hey Cor, been awhile."

"Glad to hear you're still alive," he chuckled playfully.

"H-Hey! Course I'm still alive! Aranea is here too," he nodded.

"Good. I take it you have news. Good news, I hope." Typical Cor, always getting right down to business.

"Uh, yeah," Prompto began, twiddling with the cord around his finger. "Gladiolus wants to take me to Noctis' place tomorrow. He seems to trust me."

"Oh, he trusts him a lot," Aranea called out.

"Fantastic. What about Ignis?"

Prompto held the phone out to Aranea who took it from him. "Ignis is difficult to crack. Apparently he likes me, but is nervous to get too close to me as he doesn't want a distraction," she scoffed. "Men."

Prompto could hear Cor laugh from the other end of the phone. "Keep it up, both of you," he said. "I'm glad to hear things are progressing. It seems both of them like you and neither of them suspect you."

Prompto took the phone back and shook his head. "No, they don't suspect. Gladio took me to a shooting range and today we went to the docks to pick up a payment. It didn't end so well... I had to kill a man to make sure Gladio didn't die," he whined. "He was surprised I was a good shot, but didn’t question it."

"Good. It's alright Prompto. We fully expect you to have to do some things you normally wouldn't."

"Yeah... I know..." he muttered, stroking his finger over the table.

"Excellent work. You’re moving faster than expected. I'm proud of you," Cor said, and Prompto felt his cheeks heat up. It was so rare Cor said those words! Normally he was scolding him for ruining something or causing property damage... "And I'll be even prouder when you get the location. Promise me you'll pay attention to everything you see, try and get an address if you can. Observe all your surroundings."

"Yes sir!"

"This mission is of the utmost importance, you realize that, yes Prompto?"

"Yes sir!" he repeated.

"With this information, we can begin what I've been striving to do for years," Cor said. "Don't screw it up. I believe in you."

Prompto swallowed. Cor believed in him, and Aranea nodded in agreement. The only problem was, Prompto wasn't sure if he believed in himself.

[powmanok]

One

The sweat burned in his eyes as he lay in the mud. The antagonizing sun was merciless. His clothes were stained with the sweat of his hard earned lead. But as he looked up at the grand statue of Sayvior, Austin realized that he couldn’t stop here. The only reason he had the privilege to be alive today was due to the sacrifice that Sayvior, the greatest hero of the superhero age, made for the good of PowManok.The statue almost seemed to look down upon him, instilling Austin with a guilty feeling. Heroes don’t quit. Time to gut it out.

It took all his might but he was not about to quit here. Austin knew he must finish this race. As he rose to his feet, he had a new drive. The adrenaline was pumping. And with that new motivation, Austin started running. Ahead he saw the high wall. A straight forward sprint up the wall could get him up top. But then he noticed the sides.

With some quick hops Austin was up the wall and going. A quick look back and no one in sight.

“Good,” thought Austin. He was in the lead and if he could just hold on to this lead, he would be a shoo in for the top cadet in his class.

The rope bridge was easy. After years of free running all across PowManok, Austin was pretty good at the hard stuff, and this was a breeze. Next was the ladder and monkey bars, and again Austin found his way with some ease. The upcoming net looked tough though, reminding him of his old game system and all the cords. Tangled in a knot that was not worth the organizing. But as he passed the statue of Kunoichi, the famed deadly female ninja, it gave him a thought. She was nimble, like he. Surely he could take his scrawny frame and with some skilled navigating, finesse his way through the web of wire.

Upon getting close he dive headfirst into the mess, making even better time than he thought getting past it.

Another glance back, no one in sight.

“I got this,” he thought.

Final stretch. A quick sprint and a long high jump and he would be champion. And with a full sprint he grabbed the pole and put his all into one final thrust. The moments in the air felt completely natural to Austin. As he flew thru the air, he noticed the stern yet protective face of Captain Pilgrim looking toward him. For some reason, on this day, it seemed to Austin like even he was proud of such a valiant effort.

As he fell down to the finish, he felt like a true hero, like his Dad. Finally, after taking a quick rest, Austin slowly pulled himself to his feet, awaiting the celebration. But he looked up to see... disappointment.

There stood Saul. With the platinum trophy held over his head. Austin came in second. How? He trained, practiced this course. Followed all the instructions. Watched the videos. Studied the superheroes advice. How could he not have done the best?

Austin sulked over to take his second place trophy. Even though he felt salty, at least he had the written portion of the exam ready. He was sure a perfect score was on the way in that, at least. Nobody in the Kingdom of PowManok could touch his encyclopedic knowledge of the Hero’s Bible. He knew it practically word for word. And yet he beat himself up a little inside. Even though they were just statues, Austin felt like he let them down.

Akira came up third with a light jog. He never seemed to take any of this seriously. If he only applied himself then maybe he could be better than third place.

The announcements didn’t even help him to feel better. As they broadcast the results by loudspeaker it seemed like the whole arena echoed the words “second place” in Austin’s ears. Like it just bounced off the wall. As he looked up at the titanic statues all around of the superhero legends, he felt all of a sudden less than.

“Don’t take it so hard, it’s only the beginning of your hero’s journey.”

Austin turned his head to see Akira’s optimistic face looking up at him. Maybe Akira was just trying to cheer him up. But what could he have to say of importance? Akira never took anything seriously, of course he’d be okay with a subpar performance.

Still, a true hero is still courteous. So Austin responded with the tact and encouragement that a hero in training should.

“No matter what the obstacle, a cadet is not here to make excuses, but to remove them. I will be fine, I just need to try harder, that’s all.”

Akira just looked at him. He seemed clueless to Austin. Always lost in a dream world. Then he turned to Saul.

Saul always seemed like he didn’t want to be there in the first place. How could he lose to someone like that? It’s such a waste of good genetics, Austin thought.

Just then, an loud cheer rang through the arena. Austin turned to see what the fuss was about, curious.

In walked Captain Pilgrim, the last remaining original Siege member. As he grabbed a microphone, Austin grabbed a front row seat, ready to feed off every word.

“Attention, young cadets.” Captain Pilgrim’s veteran voice reeked of confidence and pride. His uniform shined in the light from the sunroof, showing each battle scar and every tear from war.

“This is the first step to being one of the official peacekeepers of The Isle of PowManok. Every step you take, and with every ounce of energy you have in you, and every brain cell rattling around in your heads needs to be dedicated to the safety and order of this nation. Crime doesn’t want to follow order. Crime doesn’t want things to be safe. The evildoers of society aren’t worried about unity, or a system. What they want it to succeed the easy way. They are a cowardly lot. They don’t want to put in the work. They don’t want to sacrifice for the greater good. They don’t want the hard working citizens to feel safe, they want them in fear and servitude. They come filled with hatred and anger. And that’s why at the end of the day, WE ALWAYS WIN!!”

A rousing cheer filled the air from the crowd.

“Let me tell you guys a story,” Pilgrim continued. “Evolution favors the order that allows us all to live free. In the past, there were many countries on many lands called continents. And over time the old society let their guard down and let the the few greedy ones take over. They brought war, and enforced their will on the general public. While the common man slept, they corrupted the world and turned the law into their own private armies. Then evolution fixed the balance, granting intelligence and gifts to those with the power to change the world. But it was too late. Nuclear war swept the land. Those heroes, found that instead of taking on one city at a time, that unity was the key to their strength. And so the Siege was born. Sayvior, granted with more powers than you could even comprehend. Kunoichi, a nimble tactician with deadly accuracy and precision. The Doc, with the intelligence of a thousand men. And the Strongman, Mule; able to hold a building on his mighty shoulders. And finally myself, Captain Pilgrim with a virtue as great as my physical prowess. Together we helped found a safe land. This Isle of PowManok, where a hard working citizen can feel protected and earn a good living the old fashioned Ameri-, I mean, the old fashioned traditional way.”

As the crowd roared with approval, a steady rumbling silenced them. What was that? Suddenly, a crash broke the silence as a tank broke thru the wall, knocking the Captain to the floor.

A lone person climbed upon the top with a megaphone.

“What’s up sheep!” He said loudly. “My name is Samson. We are the Vermillionaires. Everything that man told you is nothing more than a shallow lie! This facade will end soon, and the mask will be ripped off! You are the best soldiers in all the land. Make your choice now, we will take over from this sham of a monarchy and reveal all its dirty little secrets to the public! You have one week, and then if you aren’t for us you are against us. Join the rebellion, or watch progress pass you by! The clock is ticking. And here is a sample of what we can do.”

And with that, the tank shot a ear shattering blast directly at Captain Pilgrim who was just rising to his feet. Being the hero he is, he flipped out of the way.

“That the best you got, terrorist?” He shouted.

Samson replied, calmly.

“No.”

Captain Pilgrim looked up to see his statue tipping in his direction. Within seconds, he was buried under the rubble of his giant image as it crashed down upon him.

“See? Look how feeble the old guard has become! You have one week to make your choice. We’re done here. For now.”

As the tank rolled out, the cadets ran over to clear the rubble off the fallen hero.

This could be the first real battle he faces. Samson and the Vermillionaires are a very real threat. What would a hero do? This is what he trained for his whole life. It’s time for action. But first, he needed a plan. This is messed up, but maybe it could be the thing that makes him the best hero cadet. It was time to make moves. Samson was going down.

[readcommendations]

by Cherie Priest

4/5 Stars

I did not expect to love this book as much as I did, and once the plot got rolling, I really devoured it. The novel was truly spellbinding, and I would myself sucked into the pages, feeling the heavy Florida heat and smelling fire all around me.

Summary

In the trenches of Europe during the Great War, Tomas Cordero operated a weapon more devastating than any gun: a flame projector that doused the enemy in liquid fire. Having left the battlefield a shattered man, he comes home to find yet more tragedy for in his absence, his wife has died of the flu. Haunted by memories of the woman he loved and the atrocities he perpetrated, Tomas dreams of fire and finds himself setting match to flame when awake….

Alice Dartle is a talented clairvoyant living among others who share her gifts in the community of Cassadaga, Florida. She too dreams of fire, knowing her nightmares are connected to the shell-shocked war veteran and widower. And she believes she can bring peace to him and his wife s spirit.

But the inferno that threatens to consume Tomas and Alice was set ablaze centuries ago by someone whose hatred transcended death itself….

Musings

We’re in 1920s Florida. It’s hot. The radio doesn’t reach everywhere yet. Electricity in homes is relatively new. Prohibition is on, but this is Florida, and Rum overflows. The Great War is over, taking many in its wake; Spanish Influenza has scoured the country, taking even more. It’s here that our story takes place: in the small town of Cassadaga, a home for Spirtalists that still exists to this day.

The novel alternates viewpoints between Alice Dartle, a seventeen year old girl from Virginia, and Tomàs Cordero, a cuban-american who’s just returned from war. At first, I thought I wasn’t going to like Alice: she breaks into tears too easily, sometimes acting more like an impetuous twelve year old than a smart young woman. But soon, I realized that her sensitive side didn’t stop her from being strong and brilliant all the same. Her insatiable love for bourbon, her huge heart, her adorable nervousness; she’s a fun character whom I would love to hang out with. Not to mention that she’s got some interesting skills she wants to develop: talking to spirits, predicting the outcomes of bets, her need to learn has brought her to Cassadaga, in hopes of honing her abilities.

And then, there’s Tomàs. A bit of a tragic character: he returned from the war, but it was his wife who stayed home who passed away. His dear Evelyn died of Influenza. He’s getting his tailoring business up and running again, trying to get things back in order, but for some reason, small fires seem to be following him around. Well, they were small at first. Now, they’re growing. They’re taking more in their wake, but they’re leaving things behind. Things, signs maybe, that make Tomàs think it could be Evelyn, trying to reach to him from beyond, trapped as a spirit. Could it be so? As the novel progresses, he seems more determined than ever, while the reader… less so.

Alice and Tomàs’s lives are connected through her talents. She sees his dreams, sees the man who’s always surrounded by fire. She knows there’s a presence there. When the fires devour more than they should dare, Tomàs makes his way to Cassadaga to beg for help. This isn’t going to be easy.

There was so much to love about this book: the style the author uses flows almost effortlessly, beautifully. The city of Cassadaga which is so beautifully evoked, with the small town feel or Turn of the Century USA while at the same time being a spiritualist camp. I ended up googling Cassadaga, and it still exists! The added sense of realism that comes from an author doing an insane amount of research was very much worth it.

I have to say, my favorite character was Felipe, the chihuahua. Good doggy. But there are so many other great people to meet.

Priest also managed to make a fantastic study of the brutality of war. So many soldiers came back from the front with PTSD, while here Tomàs comes back with something a little more… physical. The horror of the new technology of death used – the invention of the flamethrower, for example – takes a real shape here. Pure evil walks the battlefields.

I have never read a book like this before. It’s very different from what I expected, but I really loved it. The ending was beautiful, touching in a way I didn’t see coming. All in all, we have fantastic characters, fascinating setting, and a talented author to craft this all together. Well worth the read, I highly recommend it.

I received an advance copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review. Thank you, Ace Books! Expected publication, April 4th.

[bluegreenamber]

The Prince (4/4)

((AN: So um. Hi? Here’s the ending to the story that literally no one ever wanted nor asked for. It only took me like two years to finish the last chapter. Oof. Sorry about that. Completely lost my inspiration and my obsession with the fandom. Not really an excuse, but I doubt anyone will really read this soooo. If you do read this, I hope you enjoy the story at least. It’s kind of a mess of two different writing styles cuz me and my writing have changed so much since 2017. Regardless, this is probably the last fanfiction I’ll post here, especially for EW. Idrk why I’m doing it now after so long of a hiatus, but I kind of wanted some sort of finality I guess. I honestly hated having an unfinished work published. Whatever, I’m rambling into empty space. I’ll cya ‘round. Who knows, maybe I’ll find another reason to dive back into a fandom here someday. But for now, Kat out.))

One of my dads would have nightmares sometimes.

No one had ever really been surprised by this. Most people with PTSD ended up with a couple of bad dreams at some point. 

My dad’s were very serious. Often, he would wake up in the middle of the night paralyzed or panicked or even violent. He’s sleepwalked once or twice. The medicine he takes helps, but there's nothing better for him during all those times than my other dad. 

My dads have always loved and cared for each other deeply and unconditionally. They have always been each other’s everything, their support and advisor and comforter and partner. They've always been able to solve each other’s problems, when they themselves weren't the problem, that is. 

We kids tried to help best we could, and we succeeded to some extent. Our parents loved us as much as they did each other. But they kept some things from us. We didn't know all the things they were going through, so of course we couldn't do as much as they could for each other. 

But there was the rare occasion when we had to step in. 

My dad hated the war. He hated talking about it, dreaming about it, thinking about it. It was the source of a lot of his problems, so naturally he despised it. The only thing he owned that could have reminded him of that time was the medals he had earned, and even those he kept locked in a small box hidden in the bottom of a dresser drawer. 

That's why we were all so surprised when he bought a rifle. 

When questioned about it, he excused it as wanting to “finally face his fears head on” and “not letting his past trauma keep him from all the possibilities of his future.” 

We bought it for the moment, but we all kept a close eye on him. And we were not disappointed.

He started acting funny, doing things he never would've normally done. He stopped taking his medicine. He took his medals out from their spot and laid them out on the mantle. He could regularly be found cleaning his gun, paying it a lot of attention and caring for it. He watched the news, specifically political things, and even war documentaries. He barely talked to any of us anymore, even my other dad. 

This was going too far for a simple epiphany. 

Then, he started disappearing. He just left sometimes, not telling anyone when or where he was going. And he had always told my other dad everything when he went out. 

I had to find out what was going on. 

I watched my dad very closely in the following days. Finally, I saw him sneaking out the door while everyone else was gone or in their rooms and decided to follow him. He took the car out towards town, and I followed him secretly on my bike. 

After about twenty minutes, we arrived at a strange building. It didn't look neglected, but it certainly wasn't new. It didn't have any labels or decorations on it, despite it being in the middle of the city. 

My dad parked right in front of it and walked up to the door confidently. He looked like he was definitely comfortable here. 

I chained my bike around the corner, watching him from the shadows. He opened the door without any hassle. Apparently it was just unlocked already. 

After a beat, I slipped inside as well. The interior was dark, the hallway I had stumbled into plunging into a twilit darkness as soon as the door clanged shut behind me. I realized then that I had no plan, no idea what I was doing, and no way to navigate this strange place. The only thing guiding me at this point was the fairly straightforward hallway illuminated only by a few flickering bare bulbs… and the faint sound of voices coming from the other end. 

When I finally crept up to the room where the voices originated from and peeked in, what I saw made me do a serious double take. The first thing I zeroed on was my dad, who was standing at a long, round table with several other people. All of them looked a little rough around the edges, though some had more subtle tells that only a child of a war veteran could really see. I knew instantly, instinctively that all of these people had served in the military. That should have been reassuring, should have made me think that my dad had just started going to some sort of veteran group meeting, but something felt off. Maybe it was the guy at the head of the table, the obvious leader of the group. He had a metal arm. 

Normally, prosthetics wouldn’t affect me. I had seen enough of them amongst my dad’s war buddies and viewed them with a sort of respectful reverence. But this… this was not a normal extension to work as a helpful tool for those in need. This looked like something straight out of a Marvel movie. This metal arm was a weapon, period.  

It also didn’t help that the owner of the arm was practically shouting his impassioned speech, his face radiating pure hatred and raw power. I had no idea what he was talking about, but that didn’t stop me from noticing the spittle flying from his rapidly-moving lips. His eyes seemed almost to glow red from utter rage. 

And my dad was listening with rapt attention. He was nodding and even loudly chiming in his agreement at some points. I felt vaguely sick. This wasn’t my dad. The man who had raised me to always be compassionate and patient and loving towards everyone and everything would never in a million years agree with whatever vile, twisted things were escaping this metal-armed man’s mouth. There must be something more to this. 

I took another look around the room to try to find the “something else.” The others around the table were much like my dad: listening to and agreeing with everything that the leader was saying, without question. Like soldiers to their commander. Was that it?

Before I could further ponder the state of these people’s minds, I felt rough hands grab onto my arms and lift me into the air. I cried out in surprise, kicking at my captor. It was no use, however. The person’s grip was like iron, and they effortlessly dragged me into the meeting room, stunning everyone within to silence. 

After a moment’s pause, the armless leader smiled at me with little warmth. “Well, well, well, what have we caught today?” 

“Let go of me,” I snarled, tacking on a few more choice words at the end that described exactly how I viewed the people currently holding me hostage. My protests were futile. 

The leader continued to stare at me, evaluating me, seeming to search my very soul with his piercing eyes. “You seem like a smart one. Which means that you know too much. Which, of course, makes you a loose end. A very disposable loose end.” 

A shiver of fear traveled down my spine. I couldn’t help it. Despite my desire towards defiance, I was in unknown (and quite possibly hostile) territory. What he was insinuating… I felt my stomach sink with dread. 

The best plan would most likely be to stall for time, maybe appease him just a little. “I don’t know anything! I don’t know where I am or what’s going on. I don’t know what this is or who you are.” And I didn’t even have to lie. 

He chuckled lightly. “Why, how rude of me. I am Red Leader, and this is the beginning of my army.” He swept his arm across the room, indicating all of the others gathered.

I narrowed my eyes at him, determined to play his game if it bought me any time. “Okay then. Does ‘Red Leader’ have an actual name?”

He seemed to find humor in me, at least, if his smugly amused smile was anything to go by. “Of course. This vessel was called… hm, I believe it was Nick. But you may call me Tord.”

The name immediately set off a million bells inside my head. This was the final one of the four boys in the photograph. Tord. Could he be The Soldier? Or something else? 

Also, did he say “this vessel”? Could he have meant… his body? Was he possessing someone else, someone named Nick? Questions whirled around in my mind, but they were interrupted when Tord raised his hand at the person still holding me.

“So now, I believe that you know too much,” he said to me before turning his attention back to my captor. “Motley, you know what to do.” 

My indignation at having been so blatantly tricked quickly turned into fear as I heard an actual growling sound come from the humanoid thing behind me that I still hadn’t gotten a good look at. Squirming desperately, I was about to resign myself to my fate when a shout rang out among the otherwise silent room. 

“Stop!”

Everyone’s head simultaneously turned towards the source of the loud cry. It was, of course, my father. His protective parental instinct must have broken whatever spell Tord had over him when he realized that my life was in danger. 

Something seemed to twitch in Tord’s smirk. “Oh? Is that insubordination I hear, soldier?”

My dad physically flinched. I started struggling again in the arms of who I assumed to be Motley. Whether it was out of anger for my dad or in an effort to draw attention away from him, I wasn’t sure. Regardless, it did nothing. There was no way I could escape by myself, and all eyes remained on my dad. 

The brief flash of fear in my dad’s eyes faded quickly into defiance. He only had to take a single glance at me, and his entire face contorted with the protective rage only a parent can truly experience. Tilting his chin up determinedly, he declared, “Yes. Yes, it is.”

Tord’s expression was utterly unreadable, and that was even more terrifying than the violent anger I was expecting. He opened his mouth to say something--perhaps to order the rest of his army to attack my dad, perhaps to order Motley to finally finish me off, perhaps to deliver a long-winded speech only storybook villains are capable of, perhaps even to grant us mercy--but never got the chance. Even from here, the entire room could hear the giant clang! as the door to the outside of the building swung open and hit the wall with great force. In the utter silence that followed, the rapid footsteps echoing down the hallway were almost as loud. 

To my somewhat surprise, my other dad burst into the room with all the grace of a hurricane. With me out of the line of sight, his eyes immediately locked onto his partner for life, and he rushed with open arms towards the collision of awkward limbs tangling. It was only when they were both wrapped up in each other that I realized that he was crying. I knew that there was going to be a hell of a conversation later, but it seemed that this moment required no words. 

The most interesting part, though, was Tord’s face. His mouth was open in a comedic “o” of surprise. In fact, he almost seemed close to tears himself, strangely enough. “Pat?” he whispered, his eyes locked on my tear-streaked dad. There was no acknowledgment of his quiet, almost fearful voice, but there was no need for it. 

Before anyone could react, Tord collapsed to the ground, glowing red eyes rolling into the back of his head. I watched in numb horror as a strange mist the same color as his eyes escaped out of his mouth and nose. Instead of rising like mist normally does, however, it sank into the floorboards. When the last of it had dissipated, I felt the huge arms encircling me finally loosen and release me. 

I dropped heavily onto the ground, my knees buckling underneath me from lack of use. At the loud thud, my dads finally unlocked their embrace properly and, at the sight of me on the floor, rushed over towards me. It felt like heaven when their arms wrapped around me--a sharp contrast to the arms that had been slowly crushing me not moments ago--and even them fussing over me incessantly was comforting instead of the usual annoying. 

Over their shoulders, I could see the rest of the army coming out of a sort of a daze. Many were blinking rapidly as if waking up from a dream. Many were reaching out and finding their own forms of comfort in human physical contact. Many were speaking lowly with one another, confused expressions on their faces. A few were even wandering out of the door already. Overall, though, it felt like things were going to be alright. Tord’s powerful influence had disappeared with the mist.

Speaking of which, I watched as Tord’s body rose from the ground, groaning and eyes widening with bewilderment. Nick, I think was his name. I half-expected the others in the room to remember what his body had done as Tord and be afraid of him, but they accepted him as fast as any other soldier. The moment I saw his first smile, I decided that things would most certainly work out after all. 

When we all gathered the strength to stand up, my dads practically carried me outside the dreaded building. They settled me in the backseat of the car while they put my bike on the car’s bike rack, speaking softly to one another as they did. I was so utterly happy to see their reconnection, the renewed spark of love between them, the one that had been missing for weeks now as my one dad descended into a war-crazed madness driven by otherworldly forces. 

We drove home to be greeted by my very worried brothers who had been waiting impatiently ever since my one dad had told them he was going out to track down the other. All of us exhausted, we ordered delivery and spent the evening on the couch in a great family pile. After what had happened that day, it felt like bliss. 

It wasn’t until I returned to my room to turn in for the night and saw the picture on my bedside table that I realized that the last of the four boys wasn’t in fact The Soldier. I almost laughed as I stared down at the finally clean photograph. My English teacher would be so disappointed in me; we had read through Machiavelli’s entire book during her class. Of course, the guy who craved power, who used fear to enforce it, was The Prince. 

Tord was grinning up at me, his hair pointed up into twin devil horns and a small crown insignia on the gun he was holding….

I was suddenly shaken out of my thoughts by muffled screaming. I was moving in an instant, speeding over to the other side of the house in the direction that the sounds had come from. Sticking my head out of the kitchen window, I couldn’t help but be surprised at what I saw.

The house next to us had a glowing green light spilling out of it, lighting up the entire neighborhood in the dark of night. 

I grinned, the small part of me not completely exhausted filling with relief. The adventure wasn’t over yet.

Because it seemed that our neighbors were having a bit of… paranormal trouble.