#(( and also such a blatant target for being replaced it cracks me up

[royalreef]

@xsprxsso​ inquired: If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference? Character Development Questions - Accepting

(( Here’s the fun thing — it would be remarkably, remarkably easy to tell if someone was impersonating Miranda, to the point that they wouldn’t need to pose any singular, specific question to determine that it wasn’t her.

In fact, trying to ask her any specific question wouldn’t help at all, and would probably only confuse things further.

This is because Miranda’s already a notorious liar who presents a lot of different false images and perceptions of herself based upon what people want to see, what they want to hear. She’s already spinning a web of lies with her at the center, and half of the time, she’s not even really recognizing that she’s doing it. There’s a lot of things that Miranda will say and will swear to and insist upon with complete conviction in her voice, that are entirely untrue and she knows it.

See, you have to think of Miranda in a lot of very indirect ways. If you come at her from the front and take her at face value, you’ll get something much different than what she actually is, and that’s almost intentional. She’s Crown Princess. She has to know how to play the courts, and that includes saying things without saying them and understanding how to pacify and manipulate those around her and phrasing everything just right to not get caught. If look at her directly, that’s exactly where she wants you to be, and where she has the most control over how she comes off. It’s not just coincidence how she can command a room and keep all eyes on her effortlessly. It’s literally where she’s most in her element, and most able to obscure herself.

However, if you look at her more from the side, less of what she’ll say and more of her intentions, what she wants out of things, how she navigates the world, all of her little reactions that she won’t bring attention to — then you start getting the real picture of what Miranda is like. She’s an unreliable narrator and you have to treat her like one. All of the things she brings attention to are seldom the most important thing, and that’s why I leave so many little breadcrumbs in my writing that tie back into the bigger picture but will sit unnoticed if you don’t pick up on them being there. Miranda’s like water. She’s fluid, and has to be held in a container to take on a proper shape that can be understood.

She’s also entirely tied up in denial and a lot of complicated emotions that she’s nowhere in the right place to untangle, so she’ll entirely ignore them until there’s a quiet enough moment where she can begin to pick at them.

All of this is why Miranda can be so... much, sometimes. She’s cute and silly and kinda dumb sometimes, she’s efficient and ruthless and fully in control at other times, and she’s tragic and confused and powerless at different moments still. She’s any one of these things, and she’s all of these things, and she’s none of these things, all at once, because you have to think of her as something else that is being constantly shaped by what’s around her. It’s why she can turn on a dime, or seemingly without warning, or have wildly different reactions to the same thing. There’s a deeper core to her character, and what you see is not what you’re going to get.

So I feel like the first mistake would have been impersonating Miranda. There are much easier targets, and the fact of her inconsistency and her habit of lying actually make her all the harder to actually pull off. All it would take is simply being too consistent with Miranda, focusing too hard on any one of her singular facets, or just taking her at face value and believing she is who she says she is. She’s not contained in what she says or how she holds herself. She contained in all these tiny, wordless, thoughtless habits and trends that people who have been around her have noticed or picked up on, and if you fail at those unsaid things, then that’s a HUGE red flag that that’s not really Miranda.

[xfandomwritingsx]

A Diamond Tint - Lee Christmas - Part One

-gif source-

Description: Learning Christmas is engaged was not part of your evening plans.

Warnings/Labels: None really

Approx. Word Count: 1,800

A/N:  So this is something I've kept hidden away for quite a while. I'm throwing this first part out here to see if there's any interest.

-

You hear his motorcycle from a few streets away, the familiar rev bringing a smile to your face. You finish tying your hair back and shimmy into your jeans, leaving your t-shirt untucked. You’d only arrived a few hours earlier, this being your first chance it change into some relaxing clothes for the evening. You’re looking forward to the night, always happy to be back with the guys, just drinking and shooting the shit. There’s not much else that feels straight-up like home.

You wait until you can hear the garage door opening and his motorcycle pulling in before you make your way back to everyone. You pause at the top of the stairs, looking over the railing for him. He’s already pulled his helmet off and swung his leg over his bike, walking to approach the guys.

“I thought I heard Christmas was coming early this year,” you called to him. He looks around for a moment, surprised by the sound of your voice. When his eyes land on you at the top of your stairs, there’s a smile on his face. You start to descend, letting your hand slide along the rail as you keep your eyes on him.

“Darling, every woman knows I never come early.” The innuendo in his voice is clear and brings a wide smile on your face while the rest of the guys holler or whistle in response. They’re no stranger to your flirting. Hell, you’ve been doing it for years. Barney, however, still cringes.

“Hey now,” he scolds. “Still my daughter, yeah?” You roll your eyes at him, but Lee doesn’t even turn to acknowledge he said anything. Barney just takes another drink from his beer with an annoyed look on his face.

“It’s good to see you, Christmas,” you tell him in a more conversational tone. You come up to him and throw your arms around his neck.

“You too, slugger.” He returns your hug and the woodsy smell of his aftershave fills you senses. Another familiar sensation of home. The leather of his jacket is chilled from the ride over, but you can feel the heat of him seep through when the hug lasts a little longer than it should. “What are you doing here?” he asks when you finally break apart. You motion over to Barney as you step away.

“Pops needs my help,” you explain.

“Hold on a minute,” he chimes in, holding up his hand. “Who came to who?” You cock your hip out and smile playfully at your father.

“I brought you a target and told you that you’d need my help if you went after him. And you are. So you need me.” This time it’s his turn to roll your eyes, knowing better than to try to argue with you. He raised one hell of a smart and stubborn ass woman. It has both its benefits and downsides. You turn your attention back to Lee with a tilt of your head. “Ready for a drink?” He gives a nod.

“Always.”

The first part of the night passes easily just like it has every time you remember. You’ve been around these men since you were a teenager and officially got into the business, popping in and out on jobs in your twenties. These nights are a lot of alcohol and a lot of casual bullshitting. Knives get thrown. Trash talk gets spewed. And occasionally there’s some light to heavy flirting between you and Christmas.

You grew up with a crush on him. Everyone knew it because as a typical young girl, you didn’t exactly hide it well. He was always polite about it, never harshly shooting you down, but also never leading you on. And then you weren’t around for a couple of years. You’d gone out on your own, training and doing some solo jobs to prove yourself to your father, who still tried to push you away from this life. When you came back, you came back a different person; matured with some blood on your hands. And suddenly he wasn’t looking at you the same as he did before.

You bonded easily, quickly. Instead of refusing your requests to teach you to throw knives, now he’d offer without prompting. You stayed up late a lot of nights just talking. You gelled together during jobs. You were friends as much as you were family. The flirting just followed naturally with your personalities.

Everyone believes it’s a harmless habit and doesn’t bat an eye at it, except Barney once in a while, but that’s mostly out of obligation. For the most part, they’re right. Nothing’s ever happened between you and you never suspect it will, but for you, at least, there’s still that deep rooted desire for it to come to fruition. There are some nights where you think that just maybe, he does too. Like when you’re alone and he drops the too-kid-like nickname of Slugger in favor of the slightly-inappropriate Babygirl.

Tonight though, the subtle winks across the room and blatant smiles back and forth are interrupted by the mention of Lacy, whom he’s apparently still seeing. You choke down the beer you’d been swallowing and wave a hand to stop the conversation from moving on as you take your propped up foot off the table you’re perched on.

“Hold on! You’re still with that woman?” you ask in disbelief.

“Yeah.” You can hear the slight defensiveness coming out. “So what?”

“God, Christmas! Why?” It’s hard to keep your disgust from your voice and the little smiles at the ground from the rest of the team don’t escape you. “She’s one of those girls that just thinks it’s cool to have a bad boy boyfriend.” You cringe at just the thought of her and take another swig of your beer.

“Fiancé,” he corrects just a hair quieter than before.

“Shit!” Is he kidding? “You’re really going to marry her?” There’s a pit in your stomach now and your disbelieved smile starts to fade, the humor bleeding away.

“That’s the plan,” he confirms. You chew your bottom lip and look away, unsure what else to say. You’re still trying to process the very idea of him marrying that woman if you’re honest. “What’s with the look?” he asks pointedly. “The hell’s your problem?” You take a second and simply shrug.

“Look, you’re family just like the rest of these upstanding gentlemen.” You wave your hand holding your beer out to room. A couple of them chuckle and raise their own drinks to you. “I don’t like when family’s being stupid and you? You’re acting pretty fucking stupid right now.” You hop off the table and chug the rest of your beer, ignoring the way his face scrunches up. “Anyone else need a refill?” The question works to break the tense silence and move the conversation elsewhere.

His eyes still watch you and there’s an uncomfortable tension that replaces the light, friendly feel you normally have. You try to ignore it, but at the end of the night when the music’s died down and you’re gathering glasses and bottles into the kitchen sink, he comes up behind you.

“What’s wrong with Lacy?” You sigh heavily, but don’t turn around to face him. You think about it for a few moments, trying to find the words you want. Once you’ve gathered your thoughts, you spin on your heels and place your hands on the counter now behind you.

“Does she even know you?” you ask softly. You’re trying really hard not to sound aggressive or accusatory, which is hard to do after consuming alcohol.

“Of course she does!” he scoffs and throws his head back. His defensive reaction irritates you.

“Yeah? Does she know your kill rate?” That seems to stop him and the answer is clear on his face. You continue before he can refute you. “She ever see you after a mission gone wrong? Patch you up?” You suspect the answer to that is also no because he’s been known to show up at the door of your apartment regularly to have you help patch him. “She ever see your face after you got the shit beat out of you in Slovakia or did you hide that from her?” His face is stiffening, his jaw starting to grind, but you’re not done. “She know that your left ankle pops all the damn time because you broke it being a show off and jumping off a waterfall in the jungle in your twenties?” You point down to the offending appendage and he tries to resist the urge to roll it. You pause as he soaks in your words and when he doesn’t come back at you, you try again a little softer. “You want a partner in life but she can’t be that when she doesn’t know you. She seriously believes her badass boyfriend-”

“Fiancé,” he corrects and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever. She thinks you just go on exotic trips and punch bad guys.”

“Sometimes I do that.” It’s hard not to laugh at him being a smartass, but you manage.

“Don’t be an idiot,” you tell him, the words half a plea as much as a demand. You don’t want him to make a mistake and you can feel it in your gut that she would be. “Do you know what she does when you’re gone for months at a time?” His face snaps back to the angry, defensive and points a finger at you.

“She’s not cheating on me.” It sounds harsh, demanding, like he’s telling himself, reminding him as much as he is trying to convince you.

“Bullshit,” you spit. “Pops has said it, now I’m gonna say it. It’s in her blood.” Why can’t he see this? All the signs are there in his face and instead he buries his head in the sand and buys a damn diamond ring. “You ever come home early and she ain’t there?” He looks away from you and the look in his eyes answers the question, just like it always does. “Never wondered where she was?” you press gently.

“Ya know,” he breathes heavily before turning his head back to you. “You shouldn’t be such a bitch just because you got a little crush on me.” There’s not nearly as much bite and malice in his tone as there are his words. You throw your head back and scoff at him anyways.

“Do you really want to stop and examine who checks who out when I’m in town?” He tries to hide a smile, but it cracks through and he tilts his head with a shrug, not really having a defense for that. It allows both of you to slip back into a less prickly atmosphere. “Look,” you start again. “I’m not trying to be a bitch.” You reach forward and grab his arm, curling your fingers around his bicep and squeezing gently. “I just care about you and this girl is nothing but trouble.” He rolls his eyes away from you, but doesn’t move away from your grip. “Everyone knows it, I’m just the one saying it.” You can tell the conversation is over when he doesn’t offer a response and doesn’t turn his eyes back to you. So you give his arm a pat and go to leave.

[sloth-hallo-hier-bin-ich]

Berlinale 2019

TStarts with: smokey eyes, without smoke. The flu already at the start. Damn.  A journey around the world in pictures, from the cinema chair in Berlin. Why? To see other people of this one world with another perspective. #385days - (congratulations to myself) without flying with an airplane and it didn’t hurt going by train.

Systemsprenger | System Crasher  https://www.berlinale.de/en/programm/berlinale_programm/programmsuche.html?searchText=systemsprenger&page=1&order_by=1

BOOM. I have never seen such an exact representation of the drama triangle of persecutor/perpetrator, rescuer (on the victim's or perpetrator's side) and the victim. In this dynamic process, in the unstoppable spiral that only makes everything worse because the mother takes the perpetrator's side. And the nine year child, Benni, the wild and angry daughter? Helpless, feels unjustly treated, does not understand the world, is offended and then one wonders that this child reproduces what it has experienced and only when it gets worse and worse, only then - the mother comes. Within Benni’s perspective, you understand, how a trauma trigger works, what emotions in Benni’s head / eyes produces fear and anger and violence. A spiral of violence without end, because the mother is unable to free herself from the partner (perpetrator). This destroys everything for Benni. Benni grew up in an environment that offers no security and no trust. Neither to his mother nor to his brutal friend. How is Benni ever to gain trust? And the film makes sure, she needs someone, a close relationship, not a mother who makes promises and never keeps them. Because of their uncontrolled outbursts of rage, which are also directed against other, weaker children and herself, the spiral of violence becomes more and more blatant. 

The Youth Welfare Office hardly finds any more residential groups to accommodate Benni. And it’s hard to see, that some person’s try to help and recognizes her situation, but can’t solve the problem. When Benni trusts a caregiver, she wants him to be her dad, so urgently is the child  looking for someone to be close to. But too much closeness is not possible in assisted living, it is not professional. Benni actually needs someone with whom she can stay, without thinking that she constantly has to construct alarm conditions (against others and against herself). But that's what she learns: If it's really bad and she's pumped full of sedatives in the hospital, then the mother comes. The mother make promises she don't keep. A new disappointment, insult and rejection. New anger, new rage and Benni comes back to another institution and it starts all over again. To get back to the dramatic triangle: the victim becomes the perpetrator: a victim-perpetrator. The rescuers, the Youth Welfare Office can hardly replace the missing mother. And a long-term solution with one person, what a task... The film physically attacked me (this only did Utøya and Victoria before). It shows violence, but mostly at the edge of the picture and not in your face - and it hurts you so much more, because as a viewer, you fulfill it in your head. The anger, the despair, the hopelessness, also for the carers, frightening. The camera work is sensitive, because she works herself into Benni, we experience and understand her perspective. Benni's emotional world, impressive, also the editing. 

One image will stay for me forever: Benni with the caregiver Micha, they go up a green wooded slope on their nature trip and Benni's garish pink jacket screams into green tones: See me.  The great merit of this film is that it shows how rejected mother love can become arbitrary hatred and anger against all sorts of people and how lost those children are. 

The question arises: Who is the system crasher here: the mother who does not protect her child from her brutal boyfriend? The boyfriend who hits her small children? The girl who defends herself and gets brutal against others in this dysfunctional family? The dynamic of all?  But there is a life without violence, humiliation and destruction, for which one must decide and rather separate from a destroyer. Meeting: ProQuoteFilm. UPGRADE YOUR MIND https://proquote-film.de/#/informationen/news/aktuelles/2019/01/28/upgrade-your-mind-gender-diversitaet/object=post:3946

The Miracle of the Saragossa Sea  Why? Arbitrariness of the police man and the police woman? “tooth by tooth”? Revenge and death? 

There must be other ways to stand up than waving your weapon around and / or practicing vigilante justice.

Basketball Break: After a weak start Alba Berlin wins 82:74 against the lions of Braunschweig. 

La paranze dei bambini https://www.berlinale.de/en/programm/berlinale_programm/datenblatt.html?film_id=201913537

This movie shows the way of the young protagonist Nicola, a fifteen-year-old boy who lives in the narrow streets of Naples. With his mother (she has a little dry cleaning) and his little brother. No school anymore, no work. The mother has to pay protection money to the mafia gang. In Naples, there are different gangs for different areas. With the young boys we ride on scooters through the alleys of the city, experience already the gang fights of the individual groupings of the quarters. Experience the exclusion of the boys, who without brand name clothes and money can't get into the discotheques, while the girls go there, whom they drool after. It is very interesting, how the film constructs via spaces social positions. The districts of the city, the different gangs that control the districts and the only space where everything comes together is here the club, the discotheque. It is divided hierarchically: who is allowed to enter at all, who gets a table at all (only with reservation from 500 € basic consumption) or who stands at the bar or who even sits on the balustrade, above the heads of everyone or who stands in front on stage at the Miss elections. This is how the film depicts the social positions in Italian society, this is how the social positions show themselves: the man has to have money and thereby buys access, the woman has to be young and beautiful - a pretty woman serves to upgrade the man or - having a gun.  This film does not heroise this status, it criticises it and makes the absurd mechanisms clear, which often seems ridiculous. 

The film shows the seduction of power with false rule models, greed, a non-existent rule of law and Naples is a symbol of organized crime and power of patriarchal structures. And: Selfie-narcissism of the modern world. This self-assurance that you do exist, even if you're small, without a job and money.  And how important it is, with whom you make a Selfie, which revaluation this can mean for these boys (in the “sun” of power). How it raises their own importance, almost like Selfies with weapons that will follow.  The film shows the male youthfulness, this machismo and the strange honor and hierarchical thinking. How ridiculous some status rituals seem and how the boys can't escape them, but want to participate in any case. With brand sneakers or gold watches already makes a head dealer of the city? It's really painfully funny, how the movie shows these clichés and tells the mechanism in a reflective way. And via Nicola the audience steps into the spiral of violence. Nicola is a contradictory protagonist. Tender to his mother, girlfriend and brother. Naive first love. A friend you can trust on, a human, but surprised by himself what he's capable of. We are observers of his transformation, from a boy with friends into a “business” gang partner and here, Nicola becomes flexible. We see him worshiping an old family clan myth. It has almost something religious, this worship. But he changes the sides in behave of power - power is its seducer. These are chain-forming decisions which gang group he joins. The film unmasks the gang mentality, the mafia gangster heroism, the ridiculousness of the stupid macho behavior becomes clear. One can imagine that also in the future a young, ambitious offspring will overthrow the old Patrones from the throne somewhere. Nicola lives the traditionell role model: the man is the powerful part and a protector, girls are not in the gangs. Girls part: pretty and servants. That's why he dresses up as a woman to come by for the guards of the mafia boss, because nobody in the mafia world does fear a woman, because women are mothers, wives, “princesses” or servants, but the film cracks that constructed role model with Nikolas masquerade - that was the Mafia boss's doom and Nikola expected that. This scene unfolds the positions and hierarchies between women and men. Again, the triangle of persecutor/perpetrator, rescuer (not really, it always another mafia gang on the victim's side) and the victim.  The mother has to pay money to the mafia (victim), her son Nicola, want’s to protect her (rescuer - the son, not the police). Nicola wants to stop the arbitrary injustice, but chooses a dangerous solution: he want’s to get more powerful (more violent) than the clan how is “protecting” his area. This has serious consequences. He searches powerful partners and a strategy, to stop the payment for his area. The loop of the spiral of violence is tightened and the mechanism of violence and counter violence, revenge and wild, naive masculinity blows bullets around the ears and into the bodies of some children and adults. Which image I will never forget: the boys at the shooting exercise over the rooftops of Naples. How they train shooting, with the many satellite dishes as targets, under the protection of the self-produced fireworks: playfully dumb, between Appearance and Being. How the little boys with the guns seem to be getting strong or powerful, just because they have a gun and destroy their sat recipients.  I liked the camera, how it uses Naples as protagonist, how it plays with the rooms and perspectives and how it captures Nikola's feelings.  Plus: Never under estimate the power of a big gold frame. These apartments, these furnishings styles, the Italians' penchant for playing big golden Monarchie, crazy! 

L’ adieu á la nuit Please, can someone make a film about Muslims in Europe and show, that the Islam is not violent “by nature”? Excuse me, I myself will listen like a preacher because I cannot believe that the mechanisms of the situation is not better represented.  The movie: Heaven will wait https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1PgFiZwQdQM shows more sensitive and deep, how the brainwash of young, not self-assured people works.

André Téchiné gives answers? On his point of view, the new law for better police surveillance has led to the seizure of the three potential extremists. In my opinion: Telecommunication surveillance only with order because of the well-founded suspicion of international threat, does not simply interfere with civil rights for no reason and is monitored on a massive scale. 

Why fight only the symptoms instead of the reasons? The film is unfortunately very short-sighted and only remains on the surface. 

Synonymes A strangely funny-grotesque movie. I don’t know..?? How can you get rid of yourself: your past? Why would you take that off like a coat? That's impossible in life, but a change of location maybe helps. How knows? Somehow you have to deal with your experiences as well as you can. Looking back, looking ahead, doing things differently. And it will always get better with friends, new or old.  Absurde situation, the integration curse. I recognized: i do not like the french Nationale Hymnen, neither the german one or another. This power pose, urgh.  There is no "better" nationality. There is also no "better" religion.  Also in France the integration courses are as almost stupid and humiliating as in Germany and I don't like how the national arrogance towards the "newcomers" is radiated. That was very self-ironic and reflective presented. In that situation I want to inline a statement into the members of the course:  Equal rights without egalitarianism! A personal request: Please, respect the individual human being beyond national belonging. Equal rights for all people, equal opportunities for all sexes of all origins.  People are, for me, never “only” a nationality. It sounds almost strange to write that because it's so logical, but lately I have to emphasize that somehow. Nationality, double Nationality, french german, french italian, french israeli or german turkish AND also a Man or Woman, a Child, a Lover, a Dancer, a Security Worker, a Photographer, a Book Lover, a most dodified scrambled egg chef AND/OR a Spaghetti Lover AND jewish or muslim or catholic or non believing (scientifically possible: the big bang came out of nowhere): a complex human identity, with a past of a present and a future, with many layers. Are you able to see this? Or are you focusing your light just on only one layer? And the others are left dark? In my eyes - this could be represented more and in other and different aspects in that movie. The possibilities of understanding in this film are very wide fields.  The visual language, I was not convinced. (I smelled old teeth all the time, hopefully not mine? No. Mine must have smelled like cherries.)

Der Boden unter den Füßen Zerfiel, vor dem falschen Kino, in einzelne Buchstaben und alles über den Füßen müsste sich als Zeitungsvogel hinter einem Blätterbündel wieder zusammensetzen.

Kiz Kardesler  Dialogpreis, mein persönlicher, geht nach Anatolien. In Liebe mit Szenenbild und Kamera. Wundervolles Casting.  End of the Day - The possibilities of understanding are all in those movies and yourself.