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blueathens · 9 months

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Once Upon A Time - Chapter One

Summary: Charles was never allowed to leave the castle, until one day he, and his best friend Pierre, decided to break the rule and leave the castle walls, only to bump into the well-known criminal, Robin Hood, who doesn’t see them in the same golden light that they were raised within. But Charles decides to ignore her hatred and becomes the bane of her existence.

Song: Whistle Shop by Roger Miller Quote: ‘You’re invited to The Royal Leclerc’s Masquerade Ball.’ Word Count: 9819

TW: A direct narrator (only at times, then switches to third person - give the feel of a book being read to you like someone usual did for us when we were children), mention of death, mention of murder,

A/N: Not proof-read or edited. A/N 2: Taglist and detailed references found in reblog!

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

ACT ONE, CHAPTER ONE

(Ah, where to begin? How about once upon a time…

…How many times have you heard that to begin a story? Let’s do something else.

In a far-off land, where – what? That’s been done too? In fairy tales? Ha, no, this story is far from a fairy tale, in fact it isn’t even one. Nor is it a legend or a myth, or even a bedtime story that you were grown and raised on as a child, this isn’t a story that you’ll know line by line, and this is not something that will be turned into a film or tv show.

No.

This is simply life.

With our Planet Earth that holds vast oceans, forests, and lands such as England, Greece, Monaco, Zosnurg and – you’re kidding…you don’t have a country called Zosnurg on your version of Earth?

What about pirates? Mermaids? Sirens? Dragons? Fairies? Krakens? Vampire Mermaids? Chimeras?

…None?

So, this would be like one of your stupid fantasy books then? Okay…well, let’s just get some things straight then before we start this boo – these lives that I’ll be talking about.

(Which I suppose in some way is a story if I’m talking abo– I, as a narrator, will stop talking now…)

(I do apologise)

Rule One.

This is not a fairy tale.

Yes, we have witches and princes’, and balls, and enchanted forests, and adult-eating witches, and even the children-eating witches too, mermaids of all forms, dragons, chimeras, and even werewolves and lycans, pukwudgie, and dryads.

And yes there is a yucky love story.

And yes there are sword fights, and war, and love and hatred, and death and –

Alright, I know this may sound like a ‘fairy-tale’ but isn’t everything a fairy tale? You have two love interests who have to go through a lot to be together? Sounds kind of like one to me…Only difference is that we don’t need to battle a dragon, well talking to my mother sometimes feels like I’m battling a–

Anyways, life is a fairy tale, a rubbish one, but a fairy tale, nevertheless.

But this isn’t the typical annoying fairy tale where the knight in shining armour goes and rescues the princess from her tower and shares a true loves kiss once the dragon is slayed.

No, that’s just fucking lame.

Instead the prince befriends a dragon, and he doesn’t save a princess, there are no princesses, well there are, but they aren’t important, this isn’t about them.

This is about the prince and the criminal and – what on earth are you talking about? You’ve seen fairy tales like this before? Get lost.

I told you once, and I’ll tell you again, this isn’t a fairy tale – this is real, not make belief, but real.

This isn’t so called Aladdin or Rapunzel – I mean Tangled – this is real life.

This isn’t a fairy tale.

In fairy tales life is presented as blissful and magical and makes you want to gouge your eyes out because you know you can never live a life where birds will get you ready for the day. Whilst in other fairy tales you feel like you are on the spinning teacups, and nausea creeps up on you from what you’re experiencing.

(Cause I’ll come clean now, I’ve never had any of my grandmothers be swallowed up by a wolf or ever seen a man become blinded by brambles).

No, these lives I’ll be telling you about will either leave you crying or smiling or perhaps even laughing – but most likely you’ll be crying, cursing my name for ever telling you about these people.

I am not sorry.

But just a pre warning – this is not a fairy tale.

Rule Two.

Don’t worry, you won’t have to hear my lovely narration voice all the time, I chose not to.

(I don’t get paid enough for that).

But when I do decide to talk with you I will do so in italics and in brackets (as so illustrated) – I have a few notes about these people for example how bloody stupid our main female character is and –

Rule Three.

We do not, and I mean, do not break out into a musical number, we don’t do that here. Absolutely not. And no singing birds are going to help get anyone dressed either or clean their house – they aren’t lazy – life doesn’t allow anyone to be this lazy.

There are no such things as true loves kiss – a little kiss is not bringing anyone to life – unless magic is involved of course, but that’s an entirely different story.

There is no happy endings too, that doesn’t exist, never has, never will, people will die, we will cry, but then we’ll move on and carry them with us.

Even she will di–

Rule Four.

No spoilers.

(Now, that’s all the rules I can read in my messy handwriting across this coffee-stained napkin that obviously didn’t contain the pretty barista’s number.

…

There was no pretty barista

It was just Sue, the sixty-old woman who knows my order off by heart, but claims to dislike me – however, she did smile at me earlier after I spilt coffee all over myself, so guess she doesn’t hate me…)

Oh and –

Rule Five.

This is not a fairy tale.)

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

This is the story about a girl named Y/n and it starts with the sun.

Most are unaware how the once worshipped as a god by various of religions and cults ever came around, and just like the star that’ll burn the believers who venture too close, no one could remember how their King became King and when the Queen fell pregnant three times, gifting their world with three beautiful boys.

The first passed the crown down, the third shall remain a prince, and the second is deemed to be king one day.

To the world, this families beginnings felt like a fever dream – a gorgeous one though, and most carried such a strong love for them, but not all, some carried a strong hatred for them and had been wanting a revolution for ages.

A passerby once told his children, after a trip to Eynsworth one spring, that he never had much thought of their sun being a star, he knew it was, but he never felt like it was. Not until he, after meeting the royal family, had the pleasure in holding their second born, a few months after his birth, and my, the passerby never felt so close to the sun, nor did he fear being burnt. In his hands he was holding something golden; something godly. Just like the sun. But it wasn’t the sun, no, it was a gift from the golden beams above them, he was a star. He was their new star, their sun.

On the 16th of October a son was born. A prince. And he was given the name Charles.

Their future king.

Our star, our sun.

It was hard not to love the prince who found himself trapped within castle walls, barely venturing out into the world, but when he does he’s constantly close to his father as they enter new lands (for him at least) where all hand his gifts to his knights – his protectors – with flowers and gifts. Only soft smiles were what he was allowed to retrieve, no other gifts of any sorts should be handed to him directly.

(There were many soft smiles which later turns into flirty looks from those his age as he grew up).

Along with growing older, where falling in love was more on someone’s mind, Charles never become blind in seeing how his best friend and his first knight-in-training, Pierre Gasly, wasn’t shy of the extra attention that was given when Charles was allowed to see the world outside the castle walls. Little winks thrown around and bright smiles whilst the prince watched in disgust before taking a strong interest in the world around him, watching how the clouds glided through the sky, forming different works of arts for all to enjoy, and how the branches of the trees waved them off for their travels, knowing the next time they are seen a new image will be formed, quite possibly a picture of what they saw on their travels.

(All in all, one person stayed on his mind, the one he meets growing up, the other main character of our stor–of these lives).

Once, at the age of seven, he saw the sea for the first time, and he wondered what it would be like to feel the salty air tickling his skin, embracing him in a warm hug where his cologne is replaced with the smell of the sea. He even wondered what life as a fish would be like, swimming endlessly through the waves as it dodged every obstacle in their way. He wondered if they felt lonely down there just as he does within the palace walls, hoping for a struck of bravery to hit him to just leave and see the world for a moment, even just for a second, just to go on an adventure without anything bothering him.

He wondered if the sea felt grateful to be holding such beauty in their arms, cradling it, kissing it, and bringing it deeper into their warmth, with some even grazing the sandy fingers of Poseidon. He imagines that the graze occasionally turns into a handshake, welcoming those to a new view, begging them to lie down in the pit of darkness to try and spot a single beam of light – they never do, they’re in too deep.

Charles questioned his breathing ability, the young boy would hold competitions in the pool at home where he timed himself on how long he could hold his breathe as he sits on the bottom, he thinks maybe one day he could be like those aquatic animals that reach the bottom to shake Poseidon’s fingers. Poseidon’s ‘spot the sun’ game would eventually become to easy then, as the sun would be in his grasp, smiling brightly at him as he whispers, “I did it.” And all Poseidon would do is nod as he looks at the boy’s eyes that (of right now) resembles the colour of the sea on postcards that grandparents send to their grandchildren.

The sun child even wondered if the sun felt any different if he was elsewhere, maybe it feels warmer if he was in a place he loves instead in one of the many gardens of his castle or the small amount of times he’s with his father in a different country doing something of work – which his father calls father and son bonding.

Maybe his skin becomes painted in various shades of gold, letting him stand with a cheery smile whilst looking like a lost jewel in a faraway land. Where he watches the clouds shift and change like a person’s mood and observes the sky’s colour platter shattering from the phenomenon of the sun setting.

The Prince of England, Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc of many of the Grandale Islands (a group of various places, islands, and countries that the family have ownership over. One of the most recent ones that the Leclerc’s took ownership of was when Charles was just five years old, after a neighbouring (and independent) country (Zosnurg) became littered with destruction, gore, and weapons as England battled them for land. (Charles’ second home country, despite being born in Monaco, his father decided to move the family to England after the birth of his last son) The air of Zosnurg was filled with numerous of smokes that contributed to the deaths of many on the battlefields. An army of rebels and an army of warriors would once constantly fight each other to the death for the land that both kings desired. It was unclear of what side would win; it formed a tiresome fear for those nearby as they dreaded to think of the war becoming never-ending. The fighters were grimed with pain, exhaustion, and their spirits were broken. The war was soon ended by King Raphaël (the father of the Leclerc’s) killing the King of Zosnurg with his sword.)

Charles recalls growing up with some of the kind souls around the castle, watching with a frown as the lower statuses had to clean the mess up, rebuild the economy that was destroyed by the war with the rich bossing them around. He remembers watching them nearly everyday from his bedroom window, or from the carriage as they rode through the towns like Aramore (a poor town that was mainly affected by the war as it was often targeted with bombs for a few months). Most of England was left undamaged though, only a small percentage of the country was damaged, it was Zosnurg that carried most of the destruction and those of Zosnurg had to rebuild their country like the first citizens of their country once did.

It was the Leclerc’s property now.

He wasn’t allowed to do anything about the mess, nor ask to help, or even ask his family about it. All he got told was it was not his business yet and that he was far too young to worry about such a thing.

So, growing up, trapped in the castle, and venturing out as little as possible, he watched as far as he could see get rebuilt, and become better than it once was. Soon, he was allowed out, it was about a year later, his godfather – his older brother’s best friend – Eric Russo– was given the permission to take him out karting in their city, Eynsworth. He grew to love the sport, later watching Eric, from the TV, travel the world to race.

Along with karting, the prince took up other activities to keep him occupied within the castle walls, even going as far as painting, but was quick to discover that was not his forte.

Charles was ten years old though when he first heard of a person who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. And it was a month after the discovery that he learnt how much his father hated this mysterious figure who’s blacked out silhouette littered the tea-stained wanted posters that was flown to country-to-country, hanging round in various places.

Wanted for £3000. Alive. Name: Robin Hood

That was the name the whispers would call them after the fourth robbery. It was a cool spring evening, and the robbery affected a close family friend, Mr Clive. They took anything that was valuable, and when discovered that there was a robbery, the bells of the townhall began to ring, people of Eynsworth then began to venture out and onto the streets in the early morning, sleeping dust prickling their eyes as they stood in the breeze. They were all dressed in their pyjamas as they watched Mr Clive – the man who was robbed – walk around in nothing but boxers as he stormed right towards the castle with his very young-looking wife begging him to do this at a better time.

No, the only good time was of right now. He demanded for the thief to be found, and the King agreed as he stares at the barely dressed man in the front gardens of his home from Arthur’s (his youngest son) bedroom window.

The following week new wanted posters were being sent out.

Wanted for £10,000. Alive. Name: Robin Hood. Presumed Description: Professional man around the age of twenty to thirty, who’s a skilled thief, fighter, and archer.

The days after Mr Clive’s robbery, many more got robbed, some even finding arrows outside their houses or even watched how the thief dodged the thrown slippers, wooden spoons, chairs and even vases sent their way.

Many questioned on the presumed age of this criminal, but they never thought on the matter long as they presumed that due to everything happening so quickly they couldn’t quite judge on how old this criminal may be.

However, at first thought they believed the criminal was too small to be of around presumed age, but as mentioned before, they never allow themselves to dwell on the matter long enough.

The week after new wanted posters were sent out along with a new wanted poster for Robin Hood’s partner.

Wanted for £30,000. Alive. Name: Robin Hood. Presumed Description: Professional man around the age of twenty to thirty, who’s a skilled thief, fighter, and archer.

Wanted for £5,000. Alive. Name: Little John. Presumed Description: Professional man around the age of twenty to thirty, who’s a skilled thief and partner of the notorious Robin Hood.

It was discovered that the archer was partnered with someone after Mr Clive got robbed once more. After falling down his stairs, hurrying down to capture the intruders with a broken torch in his hand, he watched the moment he swung his front door open with a throbbing head, as the pair, already at such a great distance, carried sacks of money over their shoulders, laughing with their heads thrown back as they pushed the other around.

On his 13th birthday, the discovery of Robin Hood and Little John being children were uncovered. No one was quite sure who leaked this piece of information, some say that someone accidently let it slip, some even mentioned that perhaps the duo robbed them and then they caught sight of how young they looked, some even suggested that maybe the duo wronged the anonymous person and they wanted to get their revenge.

Charles believes none of the suggestion were the correct reasons.

Robin was 12, nearly 13, (an age that was incredibly shocking and was being slowly processed by the world) and Little John was just 15.

And once again, prices were raised.

“Your dad should hire them to be one of his knights,” Pierre suggested one night in Charles racing themed bedroom, all of his brothers, Pierre and Eric being locked in there whilst a meeting was being held right outside about Robin Hood and Little John after they easily battled and escaped the King’s best men – no injuries were occurred, nothing but bruised egos and dignities.

Lorenzo, Charles’ older brother, scoffs whilst Eric shook his head in disagreement. “Why would someone who sounds like they hate the rich, join them?”

“People change,” the young French boy tries to argue. “Right amount of money and he could be running to Raphaël’s side.”

“The price over their head is a lot already. I don’t think they–”

“He?” Charles arched a brow as he looked over at Pierre, who sat on his bed whilst Charles sat on the windowsill to watch the chaos below him. “What do you mean he? I don’t think it’s a he by how people talk of their movements.”

“It’s a kid our age, Charles, they’ve been doing this for years, they aren’t going to be noisy.”

“Still don’t think it’s a he though. Doesn’t make sense – maybe Little John is, but Robin Hood can’t be.”

“What are you–”

“I think Charles is right…” Arthur looked up from the game device he was playing on, handed by Lorenzo to keep the 11-year-old entertained. “I heard whispers that it is a she.”

“You went out?” Lorenzo’s firm voice came, laced with concern. “You’re not supposed to–”

“No way,” whistled Pierre. “Impossible.”

“Cool.” Charles nodded. “Maybe she can give you all a tip or two on how to fight, shoot an arrow and not be as noisy as a Heffalump.” He teased as he looked at Eric, Lorenzo, and Pierre as he mentioned the skills they’ve been lacking most in.

“Mate do not relate me to those things in the forest,” Pierre groaned. “They’re not cool.”

“How are purple elephants not cool?” Arthur piped in, furrowed brows as he stared down the older boy.

“Are you trying to say you are cool?” Eric smirked as he folded his arms.

Heffalumps are said to be dangerous creatures, but Lorenzo had told Charles about the whispers among the caring citizens (the poor who lived in their lack of riches town; Aramore) that those hunter’s stories are all false, that these creatures were actually rather friendly, and they are cruel to the hunters as they are the ones trying to kill them.

He even told Charles the story of how he even was lucky enough to meet and touch a Heffalump with these three children of Aramore that was around Charles’ age. It was a few years ago, but it was a memory Lorenzo would carry forever as for once he wasn’t treated as a prince, or a knight in training, he was just treated as himself, as Lorenzo.

He felt free.

Charles and Arthur envied him for it, envied how he was allowed to go out and do what he wishes whilst they befriended the paintings on the walls.

Charles looked away from the group and turned to look back out the window only to find a butterfly pressed against his window, his vibrant coloured wings not at show, and Charles begin to hate the insect he was staring at.

Hated how it was allowed to sore the grey skies, hated how it was allowed to taste the sweet nectar of the plants around and he wondered if he would ever be deemed lucky enough to taste something as lovely as that. He wondered if he was beautiful like a butterfly, if someone looked at him like Aphrodite herself, and be able to memorise every part of him with their eyes closed.

Charles doesn’t think he’ll ever be that lucky, so he left himself wondering if a butterfly knew everything about flowers, wondered if they knew which one had the sweetest nectar, and which ones to stay away from, he wondered if they ever felt safe in those cocoons they break out of after the transmission from a caterpillar to a butterfly was complete – he wondered if they felt that change, if they realised they were now a beautiful and elegant insect that everyone admired from afar but were too scared that a simple touch would shatter them.

It was a month after his birthday that two faces were placed onto the wanted posters after they attempt to rob from Eynsworth Castle. Failing to do so due to the amount of protection these places were gaining over the years, his home being the most. A knight caught them, and after a difficult battle that ended with an arrow in the Knight’s thigh, he was able to give the King and Queen a detailed description on their Robin Hood and Little John.

No name was given, and no name was being found out any time soon. But his parents and those of riches were ecstatic with this newfound information.

Wanted for £50,000. Dead or Alive. Name: Robin Hood. Age: 12 approx. Gender: Female

Above the silhouette changed to a drawn picture of the girl and the presumed personal description was ripped out and in came her age and gender. And after the attempted Eynsworth Castle robbery, King Raphaël and Queen Anna agreed that they didn’t not care how this archer was handed in.

Death may even be better as there was no way she would be able to escape.

Wanted for £10,000. Alive. Name: Little John. Age: 15 approx. Gender: Male

And just like Hood’s, his silhouette was changed to a drawn image of him.

Everyone was still in shock about the age, but now their shock grew at the thought that it was a female who was causing them so many problems for so many years. Charles and Arthur were the only ones who weren’t shocked as they collected their packets of chocolate buttons from those around the castle who all disagreed with the idea of Robin Hood being a female.

“It’s not really criminal though, is it?” Pierre asked as he, Eric, Lorenzo, Arthur, and Charles laid on the grass in one of the many gardens of the castle. “It’s more deviant, no?”

“I wouldn’t say it such a bad thing,” Lorenzo muttered, arms under his head as his eyes stayed on the stars above them.

“How bad is it out there? For the poor?” Charles asked curiously, never truly knowing how bad it was for them, only seeing small sights of it when he did go near those areas.

“They have it bad,” Arthur muttered, eyes closed as he too rested his folded arms behind his head. He could feel Lorenzo’s eyes burning into the side of his head at the mention of his little trips outside the castle walls without anyone. “It’s like dad forgets they exist and just shoves them to the side.” He shifts to French casually as his mind thought on the way they live.

“Oh,” he nibbles on his bottom lip as his eyes counted the stars.

He loves the stars, truly does, he wishes he could join them for a moment and just sparkle and dance up there as they guide people home, forming little imagery onto the sky too. He wouldn’t want to stay forever, would find it too boring, but he’ll like to know what being a star was like.

He even wanted to know how to find these constellations, he reads books and searches the web for tips on how to spot them, but still, as night passes he still finds himself struggling to even find the beginning of one.

“When I’m King I wouldn’t push them to the side…we’ll be equals.”

“Cute vision,” Eric utters in French. “But that isn’t as easy as you make it out to be.”

The boys laid in silence as they watched different things. Like for Arthur he was seeing those weird dots you see when your eyes are shut. For Lorenzo, he was still admiring the stars along with Charles. For Eric, he was watching the trees wave in the gentle breeze. And Pierre was sat up, knees brought to his chest as he pulled out strands of grass and twisted them around his fingers to act as a ring.

“She’s quite pretty, no?” Pierre whispered in French, loud enough for them to hear, but they knew the question was more aimed towards his best friend than any of the others.

“Who?” Charles asks, responding back in the same language, oblivious to what Pierre was getting at as he connected the dots his own way to form a future for himself.

“This ‘Robin Hood’ girl.”

“Does it matter?” Pierre sighed as he looked up from the strand of grass, only to stare at his friend’s side profile as he babbled on in French and avoided a simple question. “I’d prefer if she’s a good person than if she looks nice.”

“But she’s pretty, no?” Pierre arches a brow, corner of his lip pointing up into a smirk as he hears his friend sigh and close his eyes.

“Oui.”

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Present Day – February.

Leather boots walked among the cobblestones, dressed in a cream shirt, dark trousers, and a navy hooded jacket, with the hood over their heads, the two now fourteen-year-olds moved beneath the ever-blue sky with lacy, white-edged clouds that formed a perfect line-up in the blue, as if they were boats safely moored in a celestial harbour, with the singing birds soaring above as they acted as the fishes of the skies.

Across the cobbled streets, critters ran across, dodging the horses trotting down, nodding their heads side-to-side. One of the fourteen-year-olds had to resist the urge to stroke the horses’ head, as they didn’t know what would happen if they were caught outside the castle.

The two made their way towards a concluded alleyway and as they grew closer to the towering brick wall at the end, they decided they would climb over it once they reached that issue. The taller one of the pair, kneeled down first, linking his hands together as it hovered over his propped up knee, the other placed their foot on the other hands, feeling them boost them up for them to be able to grab ahold of the top edge of the wall, their hand brushed against a tea-stained paper hanging on the wall, but before it could move up any further, an arrow whistled past them, skidding the side of the shorter one’s fingers as it hit and wobbled in the poster beside him.

The action made the pair pause, the kneeled down one looked up whilst the other looked over his shoulder to try and find the one who shot the arrow. The taller one let the shorter one down before he takes a watchful step in front of him as they watched the alleyway’s self-crafted shadows in front of them carefully.

Approaching out the shadows was a slightly shorter, and hooded figure, the bow in their hand was still raised whilst the other was over their shoulders, plucking out another arrow from their brown quiver. They stepped into the light more as they nocked their arrow, drawing the string back as they made the pair their target. The archer was dressed in a dark forest green cape with black cargo trousers and ruined boots. Their clothes were already covered in mud, and they watched as the figure instructed with their head for the two to lower their hoods and raise their arms.

“Money, now.” The hooded figure demanded.

“You can shove that arrow right up where–”

“That’s not very princey of you,” they smirk under their hood. “Did the King never tell you how dangerous it was out here?”

“Princey isn’t even a word,” the tallest of the pair folded their arms, muttering.

“Money, now.” They released the arrow; it skimmed past and shot threw the first arrow they released.

One of the two threw a small satchel of coins and the hooded figure just sighed as they placed their bow over their head, nestling it at a safe angle across her back.

“You’re Robin Hood.” The Prince breathlessly says as he watches her pick up the small satchel of coins.

She hums, bowing down dramatically as she grins up at the pair. “It is I,” she then raises from her bowing position and places a hand on her chest as she takes a step closer to the two. “And you two are Prince Charles Leclerc and his…Pierre Gasly?” The figure now stands a few feet away from them now, pushing down her hood for the pair of them to look at her. “Shouldn’t you two be…I don’t know…anywhere but here?”

Pierre mouth fell agape at the sight of her.

“You must know,” she continues, “we don’t like your type very much?”

“And what is our type?” Charles arches a brow, arms mimicking his best friends as he folds them across his chest.

“Rich pricks,” she offers them a fake smile, as she rounds them, ripping the poster off from her arrows as she inspects it, the two boys didn’t dare to make a run for it. They knew the stories already, even if they ran she would still catch up with them.

Her brows raise. “Still just £50,000? Is that all I’m worth to you guys,” the corner of her lips quirk up. “Suppose I should do something soon to make that go higher, ay?” The pair stayed silent as she span on her heel and moved closer to the wall to take down the other poster from the wall.

Their eyes were on her back as she looks down at both posters, they hear an airy laugh leave her lips.

She now turns back to face the two as she presented the two posters to them, as if it was the first time they ever saw them. “At least they can get my nose right,” she comments as she peers over at the other wanted poster. “Unlike Danny’s.”

“You just–”

“Told you Little John’s name?” She looks up, a smirk still playing at her lips. “Thought our little rat told the royals that already?” They shook their heads as she hummed in surprise. “Well, it be rude to not introduce ourselves, no? Considering we’ll be the ones who will take down your type of people.” She scrunches the posters up in her hands before stuffing it into her trousers pocket, she then holds out her hands for the pair to shake. “I’m Y/n – Y/n L/n, and my mate is Daniel Ricciardo.” She awaits for them to shake her hand, but their pair just stays staring at. “Suppose you don’t shake a peasant hand,” she puts her hand down, “proves to show why we don’t respect you.” She spat out before shrugging her shoulders as she too mimicked the way their arms were crossed against their chest. “Do what you wish with our names, no doubt that little mole be telling that King sooner or later.”

“You’ve got quite the reputation.” Pierre couldn’t help but say.

“Reputation?” She tilts her head, smirk still playing at her lips, they thought it was painted on as not once have they ever seen it fall, except the small falter of it when neither of them shook her hand. “I have a reputation?”

“Yeah, the steal from the rich and give to the poor reputation.”

She lets out another airy laugh.

“I’m just doing what the King can’t do.” Y/n half-shrugs as she pulls her hood back on. “We aren’t lucky like you, Princey.” Her eyes shifts to just focus on Charles.

“It’s still not a word,” Pierre comments next to Charles.

“Still don’t care,” she rubbed her dirty hand down her face. “We don’t have people running us a bath and we don’t have someone baking my bread, but at least I know that I earned that bread; and my god do I deserve it.”

“They say you’re a common theft.”

“Can’t be common with that price over my head.” She teased, sniffling her nose slightly as she looked around before looking at Charles again, the one who was mainly speaking to her now.

She noticed how clean the pair looked and how well put together they were. They didn’t look as slim as she did as they were able to get the food they needed. Their hairs were slightly longer than she expected it to truly be, she thought their highly paid hairdressers would be there giving them a nicer cut, but instead they looked like two teens who were just experiencing different styles for their hair.

The thirteen-year-old girl looked at the two fourteen-year-olds curiously, examining every difference they had over her. They held themselves tall, but their eyes held a sense of disorientation in them, it was like they were a lost puppy, not knowing what to do or where to go.

“Do you think I’m a criminal?” She questioned. “It wouldn’t matter if you do. We’re not going be friends,” she rambles. “Just curious to know how you see u–”

“No.” Charles answered over her short rambling, and she stopped and looked over at them. “I don’t think you’re a criminal for trying to keep everyone alive.”

Y/n titled her head to the side.

“You don’t know what it’s like do you?” She asked quietly, and for once in their meeting she wasn’t carrying that smirk. “You really don’t know how bad it is, do you?”

They just shook their heads.

“It’s best you don’t,” she cleared her throat. “Don’t need to save anymore of you guys.”

Pierre raises a brow. “Who have you saved?”

“Eric and Lorenzo,” she purses her lips, “more times than I can count on one hand.”

“My younger brother, Arthur,” Charles begins, “he hasn’t been around here, has he?”

“Why? Scared we’ll do something?” She rolls her eyes. “I haven’t seen him, but I hear he’s with Wyatt and Lando a lot.”

“Who are they exactly?”

“Good kids that you won’t ever go near,” she narrows her eyes at them. “In fact, it be best if the pair of you leave Aramore and don’t come back. Tell those three that too. Stick to your little rich friends and the things you know, alright? And I’ll go home and tell my folks that I hit the jackpot, that I robbed the Prince and his knight in training.” She takes one more step closer to them. “If this was a story, I’ll die in the end. You know, with being wanted and all. They know enough and I’m surprised they haven’t caught me at least once yet.” Y/n shook her head as she walks past the pair. “Go back to your little castle.”

“Huh,” Pierre unfolds his arms. “She really don’t like us.”

Charles shakes his head, “but perhaps we can change her mind.” He states as he too puts his hood back on, Pierre copying before they walk out of the alleyway. Despite her leaving mere seconds before them, she was nowhere in sight when they exited the one-way alleyway.

“Get your Daily News right here!” A voice yelled as he held a stack of newspapers whilst the boy next to him waved one in the air, holding his cap out for change to fall into. “Get your Daily–”

Charles hits Pierre in the arm, nodding his head towards the two, what he presumes, are twelve-year-olds. They swiftly make their way towards them, standing in front of them as Charles places two coins into their cap.

“Bonjour,” Pierre greets with a smile as he takes down his hood, watching as the boys faces drop at the sight of his hood falling, their eyes then switch to Charles, who also pushed down his hood. “We’ll like a paper, s’il te plait.”

The boys looked between one another in confusion before they handed the dark-haired boy a paper.

“Not to be rude but what you doing here?” One of the British boys asked as the other elbowed his side.

“Lando!” He whispered loudly.

“Wyatt – they shouldn’t be here. What if Y/n and Daniel–”

Pierre and Charles looks at one another at the mention of the boys names. These must be the ones that Arthur sneaks out to hang out with.

“Oh,” Pierre smiles, “we’ve met that Robin Hood friend of yours. Robbed us and everything.”

Wyatt looks into his hat with a frown, “clearly not well enough.”

Charles tucks the paper under his left arm.

Lando carefully looks around to see if anyone else has noticed the Prince and his Knight in training with them, he then leans forwards slightly to speak with them quietly. “Aramore doesn’t like your family very much, your highness,” Lando quips.

“But our Robin Hood and Little John have always held the highest of hatred for those in Eynsworth and spits at the names of the Leclerc’s who has wrong us all,” Wyatt continued off from Lando.

“My father is a good man,” Charles tries to convince the boy, perhaps even try and convince himself, but the two Aramore boys just shakes their heads with laughter.

“Suppose she is right after all. All you rich folks are as stupid as it comes.” Charles and Pierre share a look.

“But you met her?” Lando speaks up again. “Like you actually met her?”

They both nod.

“And she didn’t knock either of you out?” He watched the pair freeze. “Oh,” Lando pauses, “I only asked because of how much she hates your – your type. But Y/n isn’t a bad person. Sure, she’s made mistakes – but she’s a good person.”

“Thought you be more careful with sharing other’s names like that.”

Wyatt shrugs at Charles’ pointed look. “Don’t need to when the whole city now knows it,” he nods his head to the newspaper under Charles’ arms. “It’s the headline today – Y/n L/n and Daniel Riccardo are the Robin Hood and Little John. The King doesn’t want this shared with the whole world yet though, perhaps that’s the smartest thing he’s ever asked.”

“So the mole has already told my father?”

Wyatt only shrugs.

“You two should really leave though,” Lando stutters out slightly. “Aramore won’t be safe for either of you and when night comes it will only become even more dangerous.”

“It is a full moon,” Wyatt smiles and now Lando elbows his side.

“Dude!”

“What?!”

“You saying that werewolves be out tonight?” Pierre laughs slightly. “Ah, werewolves don’t exist.”

Lando and Wyatt share a look.

“Just,” Lando starts again, “just return to your castle, your highnesses’.”

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

(As long as anyone could remember, it has always been the Leclerc’s throning their land, but it is to be known that they aren’t all as bad as Raphaël and Anna, in fact, they are the only two that anyone could remember being so terrible. His father was a good man – a good King who died far too soon, and then there was Raphaël’s older brother, but no one can remember what happened to him, one moment he was there preparing to be King himself, and the next thing they heard was that he left and wouldn’t be returning and that Raphaël shall be King instead.

Many things crumbled when Raphaël become King, our Robin Hood was about two years old when life become worst, never seeing what life was like before, only knew them from the stories others would tell her, and those stories sketched the idea of revolution into her brain, one could argue that it’s always been in her blood and all she needed was a single lit match to guide her to see it.

So, for as long as she could remember, she always had a desire for revolution, to overthrow Raphaël Leclerc in any way possible and bring back the life that only her ears were ever blessed with hearing. Bring back the world where one shouldn’t be afraid that in a matter of a second they could be stabbed, or questioning if that snap of a twig was a person following them instead of an innocent deer, and even bring back the world where everyone isn’t just waiting for another war too happen.

She wants to bring back the world where others were seen more as equals, the world where the poor was being helped and weren’t clinging onto their last seconds of life, and the world where the rich weren’t so greedy and treacherous and kissed the ground for a man who usurped the crown.

Robin Hood was the people’s only hope. She robbed from the rich to feed the poor. She was beloved by all people from England, and by the age of twelve, she was known and loved in other countries. Robin and her best mate Little John – also known as Y/n L/n and Daniel Ricciardo – are found hidden in Aramore, one of England’s poorest town’s.

King Raphaël has heard rumours on this information, but it is yet to be confirmed to the rich if it she truly awaits in Aramore.

You know, there’s been a heap of legends and tall tales about our Robin Hood. All different too. Well, fellow readers, here is the true version).

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

“This is the story of how I died.”

“Y/n!” Daniel shoved the younger girl’s shoulder who was left chuckling at the frozen states of youngster’s with their mouths wide open.

“How can you be dead?” One questioned, tilting their head. “You look alive.”

“Because she is.” Daniel gave a short glare to his best friend before turning his head to beam at the kids. “She just messing with you,” he elbows her side. “Jokester this one.” The children looked between the two. “Now, Y/n, tell the real story.”

“Fine,” she rolls her eyes, “this one is more boring though – Once Upon A Time…”

(Y/n L/n and Daniel Ricciardo weren’t originally from Eynsworth, instead they were from a town called Neverland – which was a small island in the region of the Harsano Islands. They were both raised in an orphanage that was ran by some very cruel people. They all evacuated though when their country got overtaken by Raphaël.

They all escaped to England; Y/n was just nine).

The Orphanage – The Lost Boys – were a worldly known orphanage that many thought to be a good, well-run place, instead, for the children that lived there, it was like a game of survival. Y/n L/n and Daniel Ricciardo were always trouble, even back then, both being secretly taught how to survive by a woman who was only meant to teach them English, but instead she was their mentor for fighting, how to use a bow and arrow, and basic survival skills.

It happened away from eyes that would hurt them terribly if they ever discovered the truth, whether that was children that will tell on them or if it was Peter Pan and Cruella De Vil themselves catching sight of this little self-made club.

Growing up, they were taught on how to be everything wrong – in the eyes of the owners it was everything right – with being raised with the wrong thoughts of the poor and how they should be mistreated, that creatures out there should be killed, and even the fact that if one isn’t hurt then they will never learn.

Children shouldn’t have parents, and they shouldn’t grow up either.

They shouldn’t know how to survive in the real world, and they shouldn’t be able to protect themselves.

Y/n was told she was wrong in the way she thought, that children have a mind of their own, and that they will all grow up and leave Pan and Cruella here in this huge building alone – Pan didn’t like what the six-year-old was telling him, not one bit, so in front of everyone’s eyes, he bashed a rock into the side of her head until she fell unconscious, only waking up at the feeling of a cold flannel being pressed against her head by Daniel and their mentor – Tania – checking her over.

She still carries that scar on the top of her head.

She was six years old when Peter Pan and Cruella De Vil saw her as their main target to hurt, Y/n didn’t mind though, as long as the other children were left unharmed, then she’ll carry as many scars that will tell her tale.

“My mother wasn’t a good person,” Y/n mentioned one day in her training, when she was just seven years old, Tania raised her brows in surprise that Y/n knew this, she wasn’t meant to know but here she was talking about it, “She – it was mentioned in my file.”

“You read your file?”

She nods. “I just wanted to know more about…I just wanted to find out–”

“No,” Tania shook her head. “You shouldn’t have looked at that.”

“I didn’t think it be bad,” Y/n frowned, looking down at her feet as she kicked a piece of gravel from the ground away. “Why did you agree to do this after what my – what she did? I could be the same, you know.”

“You aren’t,” Tania was quick to mention. “You aren’t the same and you never will be. Your mother was a bad person, I know this to be true. I know this as she was the one who slit my daughter’s throat. But if I’d seen even an ember of that cruelty in you I never would’ve agreed to mentor you,” Tania took a step forwards, rubbing a gentle thumb across Y/n’s cheek before holding her hands in a motherly hold. “She may have given birth to you, but she doesn’t get to decide who you become – you do that.”

“Was my father a better person at least.”

“He was one of the greatest men I have ever met, he just, he fell for the wrong person and death caught up with him sooner than we would have liked.” Tania squeezes the youngster’s hand. “He would have loved you and would been so proud of you.”

“Maybe not,” Y/n shrugs, “maybe not because if he was still alive then I wouldn’t be here, I would be living with him and I would be a different person.”

Y/n was still seven years old when there was news that Cruella’s new fur-coat belonged to the creature that she yells to all on how she believes they’re all bad, and all should be skinned alive, she never was quiet on her hatred for werewolves. It was still the same day when a friend of hers questioned her opinion on werewolves – Wyatt Poitier.

“Are they bad?” The girl shoots them a confused look. “Werewolves? Are they bad? Cruella says they are – says they deserve nothing but painful death. She always said that when she finds one, she will kill it, and wear it as a fur coat.”

Y/n doesn’t think they are. Not all at least. She knows a few, all nice and all just scared humans who have extreme attributes that the average human do not carry, and perhaps their even more terrified of themselves than others are of them, because each time the moon is full they must go through the painful transition that causes others to call them a monster.

However, she was never clueless on the horrifying one that lived over in England.

Her werewolves’ friends never asked to be who they are though, they never asked to be something people find only in their nightmares. Where once someone discovers that secret, most will treat them differently, will want their death to full upon them, and some will begin to silently judge them before a simple hello is ever spilled again.

“No,” she shakes her head. “I don’t think they are. They’re just people who also happen to be wolves. Some are good. Some are bad. Just like people.”

“Pan agrees with Cruella.”

“Well,” Y/n sits up, and leans her back against her headboard of her bed. “They would say that when they’re just the same as the bad wolves.”

The two days before they evacuated to England, Y/n and Daniel’s mentor was found dead, the news the next day insisted she died from the fire of the orphanage burning from the children – but Y/n knew it couldn’t be right as she knew no one was left in the building when she lit the match to start the amber glow.

Y/n carried the belief that it was Pan, Cruella, and the King – who was seen in Neverland earlier that week.

Y/n was just nine when she escaped to England, and she was still only nine when she become the Robin Hood who had revolution fogging up her brain.

“And just at that moment, the ugly little frog looked up with his sad, round eyes, and pleaded, ‘oh, please dear princess, only a kiss from you can break this terrible spell.’” Y/n spoke to the kids as she told them a story she had memorised in her brain due to the amount of times the children of the orphanage read it to one another. “And–”

There was a sharp three knocks that echoed throughout the small, stoned room, all the kids that sat cross-legged on the ground whipped their heads round to look at the door, whilst only Daniel and Y/n had to lift their heads up a little. They all await for the handle of the door to be pulled down, but yet, it never does, not until Daniel calls out a “come in,” did the handle move and the door was pushed open ever so slightly, enough for young Wyatt to nervously poke his head in as he looked at the duo.

“Er,” he looked over his shoulder at something, “you two won’t like this but,” he looks at them again, “there’s a visitor for you,” he mutters before moving away and slamming the door shut.

The pair moved away from the self-crafted beanbags as they moved towards the door, ignoring the pleads from the children as they asked them to come back and finish the story. Daniel was quick to reassure them that they be back after they see who was outside. Slowly, the children moved from the floor and went off to play with some of the toys in the room.

The two slowly moved out of the door, but a hand was quick to land on Daniel’s chest as they tried to push him back into the room before he could even close the door behind him.

“Wyatt what are you-”

“Change of plans, they only want to see Y/n right now.” Wyatt whispers as he pushes Daniel back into the room whilst Wyatt followed closely behind, closing the door as he goes, leaving Y/n outside, hands on her hips as she squinted to try and find this visitor.

“This is ridiculous where is,” her eyes fall on a slightly taller figure standing in front of her, her face scrunches up in disgust. “What are you doing back here?”

The figure removes his hood.

“I’ll keep my hood up if I were you, don’t want anyone to pass by and see who you are.” She utters as she takes a look around to see if anyone was close by whilst he pulls his hood back over his head. “I thought I told you earlier that you should return back to your castle. And where’s that friend of yours? Not out here is he? Better not be causing any trou– ”

Charles rolls his eyes. “He’s with the horses.” His fingers nervously reach to the side of his cloak, running up and down the steam of it as he looked at the girl in front. “I wanted to come back and apologise.” Y/n raised a brow. “Look, I just think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Well, I think we did too.”

“Okay–”

“But I appreciate your apology.”

“Apology?” Charles breathlessly laughs before scrunching his face up. “Who said anything about an apology? I was just saying–”

“Please don’t talk anymore, okay?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she turns to look away from him. “It’s only going to upset me.”

“Well you have already me upset so–”

“Is this about robbing you?” She turns to look at him, hands dropping to her side before raising her right hand to gesture towards him. “Come on, like that’s going to hurt your bank account.”

Charles chose to ignore this as he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, he held it out for Y/n to take.

“So you wouldn’t shake my hand, but you’ll happily hand me things?”

“Your really annoying, has anyone ever told you that?”

She pinches the other side of the envelope, leaving it to dangle down as she held it from a corner. “What is this?”

“Real mature–”

“Hey if you didn’t want to shake my hand, then I don’t even want to touch you.” She eyes the golden colour of it, it almost matching her reward posters. There was no cursive writing addressing to who it was for, but it did have the blue royal stamp sealing it shut. She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at it, but she should have guessed it was an envelope from the Leclerc’s due to it being handed to her by one.

As she ignores the colour of the envelope, she notices, without much surprise, that it was made of high-quality paper with a slightly rough feel to it – it wasn’t like the recycled stuff with bits in it like the people of Aramore use. It was just thick and heavy like letters from hundred of years ago.

Well, it be no shock if they were still using material for letters that they once did many times ago, the rich liked the traditional, they weren’t ones for big changes, so it should come to no shock that their paper felt like a rich metal, or that they weren’t even with the times and recycling their paper.

“I wanted to give you one,” Charles shrugs. “I thought it be a nice thing to do and–”

“This isn’t going to be the leading cause to my death is it?”

His eyes widen, “I hope not.” He responds in French, watching as Y/n’s face scrunches up from not understanding a word he just said. “Oh,” he frowns slightly, “I said I hope not.”

She clicks her tongue at the root of her mouth as she continues to eye the envelope and the boy in front. “Can you go now?” She questions, and before she could even watch if he does leave this time or not, she was already heading back inside to the small room she once was in, coming face-to-face with an annoyed Daniel and a Wyatt wouldn’t stop shifting on his feet.

“What’s that?” Daniel points to the thing that was still pinched in between Y/n’s thumb and forefinger.

“Poison,” she mutters, still eyeing it up in disgust.

“O-Oh, Y/n,” Wyatt stutters, “You must go,” The duo’s brows knitted together at Wyatt’s wording as they watched his eyes lit up at the sighting of what she was pinching. “You must! It be an amazing opportunity for you and, oh, Y/n, you can’t run forever; he’ll find you one day,” Wyatt warned. “Just go and have some fun and do what you do best; steal.”

“Who says I’m running?” Y/n lets out a scoff, which was slightly merged into an airy laugh too, “I’ve been here for the last five years, and if he ever gets the courage to come for me, I’ll still be right here.”

She understood that Wyatt must have figured out that this was from the royals, and by he, he must mean the King, and perhaps Wyatt thought this was a letter personally from the King, and maybe he believed this letter was going to mend everything.

But it wasn’t – that only happens in fairytales.

“But Y/n–”

Her finger slides underneath the lip of the envelope, tearing it open. She watches how the royal blue stamp that had a golden rose engraved onto it and is then surrounded with an aureate circular frame, splits into a near perfect half.

She tugs the folded black card out; she then holds it in one hand whilst the other crushes the envelope into a ball.

With her other hand, her thumb slips up from the bottom of the card, pressing down on the lined spine to open it up. Swiftly falling down like snow on a winter’s morning came two glistening silver and black tickets. The silver glitter littered across it shimmered like those elegant mirror balls found hanging from those darkened ceilings, producing thousands of different circular lights around the room.

She ignores them, but Daniel doesn’t as he bends down to collect them, eyes widening just like his friend’s as they read the same word, however one read it from the tickets, and the other read from the letter itself.

You’re invited to The Royal Leclerc’s Masquerade Ball.

References (in order of appearances): reference to chicken little || reference to tangled || reference to swan princess || reference to robin hood || reference to robin hood || reference to tangled || reference to robin hood || reference to tangled || reference to peter pan || reference to peter pan || reference to peter pan || reference to 101 dalmatians || reference to the princess and the frog || reference to anastasia ||

Detailed References and Taglist found in reblog Likes/Reblogs/Comments always appreciated along with any ideas one may have as this very long series proceed.

Act One Masterlist//Character Profiles//Playlist

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rachelillustrates · 1 year

Text

Bagginshield notes upon a reread of "The Hobbit"

(Or a relisten, rather, via the "An Unexpected Journey" podcast. And thusly, I have no page numbers noted for reference. These being mostly gathered for personal eventual fanart purposes, now with a moment of commentary at the end.)

"Upon my word - Gandalf spoke true, as usual. A pretty fine burglar you make, it seems, when the time comes." - Thorin to Bilbo, once he finally finds him in the dungeons of Mirkwood.

"Then...the Dwarves' good feeling toward the Hobbit grew stronger every day."

"And there is no knowing what a Dwarf will not dare and do for revenge, and the recovery of his own." - In Laketown.

"Now is the time for our esteemed Mister Baggins, who has proved himself a good companion on our long road, and a Hobbit full of courage and resource far exceeding his size - and if I may say so, possessed of good luck far exceeding the usual allowance - now is the time for him to perform the service for which he was included in our Company. Now is the time for him to earn his reward. This is a great moment..."

.....

...By now he was quite familiar with Thorin too, and he knew what he was driving at. "If you mean you think it my job to go into the secret passage first, oh Thorin Thrainson Oakenshield, may your beard grow ever longer!" he said crossly, "Say so at once and have done! I may refuse - I've gotten you out of two messes already which were hardly in the original bargain, so that I am, I think, already owed some reward. But... third time pays for all, as my father used to say. And somehow I don't think I shall refuse..."

.....

"....they would all have done their best to get him out of trouble, if he got into it, as they did in the case of the Trolls, at the beginning of their adventures, before they had any particular reasons for being grateful to him."

(all above in context of Bilbo's entering the mountain and confronting Smaug first.)

General note without quote - Thorin being the first to insist that they go after him, when he cries that his torch has gone out, crying for help, in the darkness of the hoard while Smaug is gone.

Also he does still put the mithril on Bilbo himself, like in the film.

Bilbo is the one that calls Thorin back to his sense from the first traces of gold sickness, reminding him that they haven't defeated Smaug yet and they still need to find a way out. Vibes of Sacred Marriage like many moments in the films.

"Oh dear me... more walking and more climbing without breakfast! I wonder how many breakfasts and other meals we have missed inside that nasty... timeless hole!" ....

"Come come," said Thorin laughing. His spirits had begun to rise again, and he rattled the precious stones in his pockets. "Don't call my palace a nasty hole. You wait until it has been cleaned and redecorated." - On Thorin being cheered and amused by Bilbo's grumbling after they've gotten out of the mountain (after they've visited the hoard for the first time, too).

And just the fact that the deathbed apology happens at all.

So, having done this re-listen of the original tale, I'm struck by two things.

1 - Tolkien probably intended no romance at all between anyone in this book. Which is great from an aro/ace perspective (which I say with love and enthusiasm, as a demisexual myself). BUT nothing in the book would prevent Bagginshield from being possible.

2 - This version of the story feels very very much to me like the version Bilbo would tell - to others, and himself - after coming home and settling back into Bag End and embracing how he's grown... and accepting what happened. Like talking about it that way, leaving much of the details of his emotional connections with anyone (including Thorin) out of the telling, makes it easier to move on and keep living. Very much in the same line of having friendzoned himself at the end of "The Battle of the Five Armies," to create that distance and protect his broken heart.

(Which doesn't account for the lack of focus on the Dwarrow reclaiming Erebor as their homeland, since there is zero focus on or mention of that in the book at all, but in general I accept this headcanon as a patch between the book and the films - which I appreciate all the more now.)

So, there 🌱

More Bagginshield meta:

~ Thoughts on "An Unexpected Journey" - Thoughts on "The Desolation of Smaug" - Thoughts on "The Battle of Five Armies" - Thoughts on their vibe and why they resonate - Thoughts on Dwarven Ones and Hobbit soul-matches at their first meeting - at the mountain ~

#bagginshield #lotr meta #inspiration #otp

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tzunako · 8 months

Text

Spoilery things

So I guess I'll make another post after reading another one of the Twisted Tales books, this time "Conceal, Don't Feel" by Jen Calonita (a Finnish translated version again). I'll try my best to remember my impressions of the book, but it's been about a month now since I read it so don't know how well that's gonna go...

Anyway, this time around I'm gonna focus more on the story elements since the writing style itself was actually pretty smooth and easy to read (there were the weird empty pages at the end of the book again though...). I don't know if this is due to having a different author or that the translator (which was the same person who did the translation for the earlier book in the series I read "A Whole New World") made more of an effort but it was a significant improvement. There were a few things still I'd have done differently, but I'm gonna give a

SPOILER WARNING

first as from this point forward I'm gonna be talking about story points. So, the first thing I noticed wrong with this translation was that at one point in the story Elsa overheard/eavesdropped as her parents were talking about Anna (in this continuation, Elsa and Anna were raised separately from each other since they were small children and pretty much the only ones in the kingdom who could remember that Anna was a princess were their parents and Anna's adoptive family), but they don't use her name, only refering to her in third person pronouns. Later Elsa wonders about who the person they were talking about could of been and thinks that "they were talking about someone female" or something along those lines... expect she wouldn't be able to know that! Finnish language doesn't have gendered pronouns and I checked to make sure that, yes, there were no indicators in their conversation in anyway that would of given that away otherwise (often when faced with this dilemma, the Finnish translation will use some terms like "the woman/girl" if it's a plot point, but this time there was nothing). Another thing I thought would of worked better was if the translation of the direct quotes from the movie would of been taken directly from the Finnish dub of the movie, instead of the more direct translations we got in the book. Pretty much the only thing lifted from the dub was "Weaseltown".

Springing from the earlier point to the next one is that there were a lot of scenes and dialogue that were straight from the movie, but they were often being reframed as being in slightly different situations with different characters, and it made me roll my eyes a lot, especially when it didn't fit the characters to do so. Like, sure, I can buy that Anna and Elsa could have grown up to be different to their movie counterparts due to having grown apart from each other, but other than that why would for example Hans act in a similar manner to Anna by whispering "Elsa?" (my absolute number one Eye-roll Moment of the book) when her powers were revealed? Ughh... It felt very forced and like they were written in as just fan service to the fans of the film and so that the readers could go like that Leonardo DiCaprio pointing meme of recognizing something being from the movie.

There's also the fact that while the movie (excluding the beginning) takes place around one or two days, the books happenings go on for weeks/months (can't really remember the exact time but it was a lot more than in the movie) after Elsa ran away. This really drives home that one joke about how Elsa might have a nice ice palace now, but what is she gonna eat? Like you could overlook/explain it away in the movie that she was really away only for a day or so but in the book? when it was specifically mentioned that the winter "curse" has been going for quite a while now?

The ending of the book also felt really rushed/crammed, like the pacing suddenly took a sudden upturn in the last chapters. I don't know, maybe the author was having to meet a deadline but it really felt like towards the end the narration just wanted everything to be over and done with already and was hurrying to get to the finish line. Anna's resurrection was written in the most anticlimatic way possible, like...

There were still some other minor things I felt were off, but weren't really such a big deals overall, like how I felt that Hans was being too transparent and/or Anna and Elsa being able to read his true intentions a bit too easily when the narrative demanded or the fact that when Anna first met Kristoff as a 15 year old, she referred to him as a "boy around her age" when Kristoff was 18 at the time and I don't know, while three years isn't that big of a gap with adults I didn't think of 18 year olds as being about the same age as me when I was 15 (though it's not like Anna knew how old he was at time, maybe Kristoff was a lot smaller and looked younger than he was back then (in the book at least) or maybe there wasn't that many young people in Anna's home village overall (I remember that she said she went to school but can't remember what she said about her classmates/peers))

Anyway, I still think it was a decent book, it just unfortunately started deteriorating somewhere a bit before the middle point, which is too bad, I was considering buying this book for my cousin's daughter who likes Frozen, but now I guess I'll just encourage her to read a library copy like I did (though maybe this is for the better, libraries are there for reading after all and there's no reason to succumb to unneccessary consumerism...). Maybe it's just that I haven't really been reading literature targeted to 5th graders in a long while, maybe I'm being too harsh... (Though at the same time I also think it should be okay to ask for actual quality content for things, even (or especially) if they are meant "for children") Still, gonna read more Twisted Tales books, the next one is already on my list

#disney #twisted tales #conceal don't feel #jen calonita #let it go #apparently that's the name of this book in the uk

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selfshipstorm · 1 year

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Howdy Bear, I'm so sorry that things are stressful for you and hope that you're able the find peace soon ✨💙🥺 I wanted to ask these questions to try and help; feel free to answer whichever you feel inspired to!

• What are your top five favorite books and why?

• What is one of your favorite childhood comfort films and why?

• What flowers do you like the most? Feel free to send photo refs!

• Which element do you relate to the most: earth, wind, air, or fire? Why?

• What are some of your favorite colors? Feel free to send photo refs!

• Feel free to introduce me to Kerry!

Remember to breathe deep, to take time to be quiet, to reflect on the things in life that make you happy, to reach out to people you care / care about you in your IRL space, try and treat yourself with little things like your favorite sweet treats.

If it helps, this quote always gives me comfort when I'm going through extremely stressful times: "Even this too, shall pass". Try to think of future things you're looking forward to, and if you don't have any, try to make some.

I believe in you.

Clover @tex-treasures

Ergh, stressful times, but I hope that a new week sees calmer waters in my future. It's been a rough week, seas got choppy, but i'm still standing and the boat's still upright, so that counts for something. I've got a nice cup of hot apple cider and some donuts, I thought i'd snack while I answered these. Thank you for the inclusion of that lovely quote, I feel like I need to put it up somewhere in my day to day interactions until I get all this ironed out fully. ( Hi, Bear from the future here! This got a bit long. Strap in for some reading. There are pictures and a song to look forward to, though. :) )

The question that immediately jumped out at me was one of my favorite comfort films from childhood. This has reminded me that I need to go back and watch this sometime soon. The Princess Bride. I unabashedly love that movie, and I more than likely always will. I saw it for the first time around age seven or eight, and it stuck with me for years. I can probably recite that entire movie word for word as it plays in front of me. It's a tale of love and loss and friendship and betrayal with a happy ending to close everything off. It was a nice movie, and I will still always laugh at the little bits with the grandfather and grandson telling this story as we see it play out. "As you wish" is one of those movie phrases that is going to be permanently stuck in my brain, no matter what.

Books. The one topic that will always fall close to my heart. I was a child who's friend group was mostly books, only a few real live people. This became a bit of a nostalgia list opposed to favorites, as they're all books i discovered when i was younger, but i do still adore them all, even this long after discovering them. First on my list is Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman. Yeah, the one that Shopping Website Company turned into a movie i'm scared to watch, i'm that attached to this book. Catherine's personality as seen through her narration in the diary entry style of writing drew me in, I got a copy of the book from a garage sale in fifth grade for twenty five cents out of a bargain book bin. I fell in love with the tale. Second is Precious Bones by Mika Ashley-Hollinger. The book follows ten year old Bones in the Florida swamplands, circa the late 1940s. Her father, Nolay, is the prime suspect when Bones and her best friend Little Man find one of the real estate developers Nolay had scared off the family land dead at the edge of the swamp after a storm blows in, and foul play is suspected. Bones is determined to figure out the answers and help her father. In case you want to read it, I won't spoil the ending. Third place is taken by The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin. This was another chance find, I picked it up from a thrift store because the blurb about the book sounded interesting, and I gave it a read. I thought it was quite an interesting concept, and got rapidly attached to the characters. The story was a little complicated for me to follow the first time through, but once I read it again, I realized how a lot of the puzzle pieces fit. Again, since it's a mystery, I won't spoil the ending. All i'll say is that it follows the story of the inheritance of Sam Westing, the mysterious owner of the Westing Paper Plant. Whoever can solve the mystery of who killed him receives his millions. I can only think of these three at the moment, but they're three books I always come back to.

Flowers! This is so blessed. So, most of my favorite flowers are simply wildflowers, or flowers you can find absolutely everywhere, because i'm simple. Firstly on the list, falls railroad lillies. I know that's not what they're called, but that's what I grew up calling them. I'm not sure of their actual name. They're these lovely orange lillies that tend to grow in abundance near railroad tracks, in ditches, or other out of the way places, hence their name. I'm also incredibly fond of larkspur ( particularly blue ), queen anne's lace, and black-eyed susans!

Now, for the Info Dump. You gave me an excuse to talk about Kerry ( and by extent, CP2.077. ) so I will most definitely be doing that. Also, i apologize in advance for the word dividing, I do not want to be perceived by the fandom if it's still living on this website. They're here to critique things and play the game as it's meant to be played and i'm here to run around and look at all the visuals while Johnny chirps in my ear like an off key canary because I do all the sidequests before continuing with the actual plot of the game. Anyhow, imagine with me if you will. History proceeded a bit differently, and we are in a future where technological advancements have surged forward at an astounding rate. The year is 2077, and we're in the free city-state of Ni.ght City, located on the coast of what once would have been central California. However, technically we first meet Kerry in a flashback. 2023. A lot of things happened in 2023, including the end of Samurai and the attack on Ara.saka Tower. We first meet Kerry when he's trying ( albeit unsuccessfully ) to talk Johnny out of the attack. ( A moment of interlude here, just to mention that I love that his design in the 2023 flashback stays true to his design in the original Cyb.erp.unk 2013/2020 ttrpg source material. That was a detail that could have easily been overlooked or ignored, but they stayed true to his original design, at least for the moments in the past. I appreciate that nod to the source material. ) Back to the future ( heh ) to meet Kerry for the second time, when Johnny insists we check up on his old bandmate and so we sneak into his mansion to sit and play guitar to make him trust us and realize it's actually Johnny. Of course, after Samurai broke up, Kerry made it big on his own, leading to his successes and the mansion on the good side of town. Johnny was worried about him after seeing some troubling headlines about Kerry's mental state, and wanted to make sure his friend was alright, that being the main reason Johnny eggs the player on to go check on Kerry.

Now. On to the man himself! Back in his Samurai days, Kerry filled the role of vocal and lead/rhythm guitar, and had the same dream Johnny did. Changing the world through music. However, he and Johnny didn't always agree on the methods, and this lead to some rough patches between the friends, Kerry even making a few grand tries at leaving the band, but his somewhat complex relationship with Johnny would always pull him back. Samurai officially ended with Johnny's departure, and left Kerry in a rough patch. That rough patch eventually lead him back to his roots, and he stayed on Masbate in the Philippines for two years to re-gather the pieces and see what he could pull out of it all. He returned and launched an exceptionally successful solo career, that after a little leg work, took off. An unexpected turn in his life was the marriage and the kids, but all that left him with was the now ex-wife getting a decent chunk of their shared possessions, and the kids, and promptly shutting him out of their lives. He tried to keep in contact, but the ex-wife was having none of it, and used most of Kerry's well meaning if misguided attempts at positive relations to prevent his kids from idolising him. As of the game's events he appears to be still a popular artist, although he's afraid of falling to the shadows, and he cares an immense amount about the public opinion, keeping tabs on articles relating to himself. He's started losing inspiration, however, rather understandably after almost half a century in the spotlight. His missions in the game are some of the most fun because you get to go around town with him and break things and cause chaos, and it all starts because a new girl group used one of his songs, and he's angry that he was never informed about it. However, if you play your cards right in the game, and this is how I choose to see my canon, there's a happy ending where Kerry partners with the girls on a new project and starts plotting his revenge against his manager who went behind his back, knowing that he can't just outright fire his manager thanks to the hold the manager has on his music. And here in the timeline begins the romance options, and I change canon a BUNCH from here on out. Boy, oh boy, I sound like the wiki. /lh Kerry is a man with a very long rollercoaster of a past, that has left him with doubts around himself, his music, and the people he surrounds himself with. I just want to be able to be there for him, hype him up when he needs it and show him that, at the very least, i'm not going anywhere. <3 ( i will also be subjecting you to him singing, please enjoy :D )

youtube

And here is his face for you to look at ( some of my favorite pictures i've gathered ) :)

Thank you for the ask and for the lovely distraction. @tex-treasures

#opening the mailbox #tex-treasures #this turned into an essay #it got very long #dont feel obliged to reply to any of this/gen #but if this brings up more questions feel free to ask them #im praying this all formats right and doesn't break ive been at this forever-#tales from the cave #< i talked abt myself so it fits there #🗡🎸 || don't take love off the table yet #🎵 || k.e.#'i believe in you' thank you <3

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cellard0ors · 3 years

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Fic: Movement (2/?)

Still dedicated to the wonderful @peachworthy. you read part one than you know - GMM Rhink AU - College Student Link/Pornstar Rhett AU

“Got it right again, man! You’re going to ace this test!” Rhett crows as he tosses down another notecard and Link pumps his arms in triumph. The two of them are settled in the kitchen, piles of books and notecards spread around as well as few bottles of beers and some bowls of chips.

Link picks up one chip and pops it into his mouth, grinning at his roommate fondly, “Well, couldn’t’ve done it without you, pal. You are, without a doubt, the best study buddy I’ve ever had.”

“Aw shucks, gonna make me blush,” Rhett laughs even though it’s Link who feels his cheeks actually grow warm, his friend’s laughter a common cause of the occurrence.

They’ve been living together for over a month now and it’s been beyond amazing. Link would’ve never guessed a guy like Rhett and a guy like him would work so well together.

It’s like they’re the world’s weirdest, most convoluted puzzle yet all the pieces click together to form a full picture that is nothing short of a masterpiece. True, there’s a lot about Rhett Link doesn’t know yet (and gosh is there a lot he wants to know) but their friendship is running smoothly.

Well, smoothly save for the massive crush Link has on the guy, albeit he’s doing his damned best to squash it. Yes, Rhett’s attractive and yes, he’s the first guy Link’s ever met that he’s felt a real zing for, but the fact of the matter is – Link would much rather have him as a friend and roommate than lose him as a…well, Link’s not sure if he’d lose him, but the mere possibility keeps Link’s lips sealed.

Besides, it’s okay to crush on someone and never act on it. People do it all the time. Not to mention that it’s a bit…odd to crush on someone in Rhett’s line of work. Isn’t it?

Link can’t think of too many people who will admit to crushing on an adult film star. Regular, mainstream film stars, sure – but adult film stars?

Yeah…

Although, to be frank, Link’s sure there are some that do. And, hopefully, some of them are not the creepy internet troll-y kind of people, but genuine salt of the earth folks like himself. Because, okay, he is crushing on one so…

Rhett is toying with the cards, maybe looking for the next question to quiz Link on when he asks idly, “Y’know, Link – I gotta say, I admire your stamina.”

That remarks makes Link choke on the drink he’s just been consuming, a cough clearing it up some as he croaks, “I’m-I’m sorry?”

Rhett hums noncommittally, as if not noticing the gaffe, “You’ve had yet to grill me about my job. Normally, once folks hear about it, that’s all they want to talk about.”

“Oh,” Link breathes out loosely, “Well, ah-? It-? It just…seemed rude to-to ask…”

“Been over a month living with me now. You telling me you ain’t interested?”

“I didn’t say that!” Link quips back much quicker than he would like, but Rhett just gives him the most perfect smile. All sincere and warm beneath his beard and remember, Link, you’re doing you’re best not to crush on him!

Rhett is still toying with the cards, eyelashes downcast, the very visual definition of shy as he murmurs, “Just sayin’…I don’t mind if you wanna ask some stuff.”

Link’s eyebrows rise in such a way as to damn near bump his glasses off, “Y-You sure?”

Rhett draws in a deep inhale and then sits the cards down. He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, looking quite serious even despite the casual red flannel and jeans, as if this was more of an interview (or perhaps an interrogation?) than anything else, “Shoot.”

The a million and one questions that Link has kept at bay about Rhett’s job and more personal life threaten to cave his skull in as they crash about in his mind. However, he has to go with the obvious, “Know this’ll be predictable, but…why?”

Rhett just bobs his head in an understanding nod even as Link pushes on, “Why and how?”

Rhett sucks on his teeth before picking up his own beer and taking a fortifying sip before continuing, “The two are kinda interconnected to be honest. Had a fallin’ out with my family. Think I mentioned it in passin’ to you once. But, to clarify; they weren’t too happy with my chosen living destination nor with the fact that I’d come to terms with the notion that I’m attracted to both the ladies and the gents.”

Link’s mind immediately (and joyously) clings to ‘the gents’ remark, bookmarking it for future reference, even as Rhett continues his tale, “You grew up where we did. So you get it.”

Link does. And then, to nail the point home, Rhett adds, “Probably get it a lot more than others. If my…instincts are to be believed.”

Shit.

SHIT.

Link’s whole body immediately bursts into flame, the tips of his ears so hot he’s sure they’re glowing bright red.

Rhett knows I’m gay. He knows. I thought having a radar for that kind of thing was bullhonkey, but he knows and oh, lord, oh lord – do I give off some sorta vibe? I know that girl in my screenwriting class, Stevie, she teased me about being an A-Level twink or something, but I didn’t think-!

Rhett’s laughter carves right through Link’s insecurities, “Take a breath, brother! Look like you’re about to pop!”

Link does and Rhett just shakes his head, still grinning, “Point being – I was pretty much a babe in the woods when I came to LA. Not two nickels to my name, so I took whatever gigs I could get. Managed to snag a few commercials and things of that nature, but you know the drill. Jobs are hard to come by. And a guy of my height?”

He blows out a big breath and tosses all of those luxurious curls about with a rueful head shake, “Yeah, most people fingered me for a baller, so – again – jobs were hard to come by. But then, wouldn’t you know it? A friend of a friend of a contact told me about this part they thought I’d be perfect for.”

Another deep barrel chested chuckle emerges as he reminiscences, “Mighta been nice of ‘em to let me know it was actually a part of me they thought would be perfect.”

Do not zero in on his crotch! Do NOT zero in on his crotch! Charles Lincoln Neal the Third DO NOT-!

Link keeps his eyes so steadfastly forward he probably looks like some bug eyed zombie. If Rhett notices, he doesn't comment, “Anyway, when I found out what the role was, I had planned to politely decline but, y’know, the money they offered…”

There’s an easy shrug and this Link can look at. He looks at Rhett, who looks a bit sheepish as he scratches at one side of his beard, “I mean, again, you grew up where I did. So, you know how the whole ‘wait until marriage’ thing was drilled into your head, but I figured it wasn’t like anybody would know. My family’d cut me off, my friends were few and far in between, and the people on set…”

Now he looks a bit happier and Link can’t help but smile along with him, “The people on set were all right. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the kind of stories people tend to spin – the exploitation, the drug abuse, other questionable stuff…place I was at wasn’t like that. I mean, maybe I just lucked out or something, but it was…”

Another shrug and he goes for his beer again. Link figures this is as good a time as any to get in another question, “So, you did that and then you…? Just kept going?”

Rhett nods as he drinks, the bottle leaving his mouth with an obscene pop that Link is going to do his best to forget all about right now and certainly not recall at any point in the future (and most certainly NOT when he’s jacking off later), “Yeah, I did the one and the director really liked me. He pull me aside and told me about this company he was trying to set up with a couple of buddies of his. They wanted to go in a classier direction – know how funny that sounds, but he was serious.”

“So, what? No, like, blockbuster porno knock offs? Like ‘Sex in The City and ON the City’ or ‘Arma-get-it-on’?”

“Think you stole that last one from an episode of CSI.”

“I did, doesn’t change the question.”

They’re both smiling like a couple of fools, but the mood is good and the atmosphere light as Rhett sighs, “Yeah, nothing like that. I’ve actually worked with a few female directors, shot some things with great budgets, nice lighting, good costumes…”

“Oooo, costumes,” Link teases in the silliest voice and Rhett swats out at him. Link avoids the hit even as Rhett rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, dude. Some of the things that department pumps out looks better than anything you’d see in Hollywood.”

“Hmm, some kinda wood,” Link snickers and this time Rhett’s swat makes impact, brushing Link’s shoulder and Link would be embarrassed by the giggle he lets out, if it weren’t for the way Rhett’s nose is all scrunched up, making him look beyond adorable, “You’re sucha brat!”

Link sticks out his tongue and Rhett just laughs. They turn their attention to the drinks and chips for awhile before Link circles around to another question, “You like it then?”

“It’s a living,” Rhett confirms, not really answering one way or another, “Like I said – make great money, work with some really nice people.”

“Uh,” Link scratches behind one ear, “Hate to ask, but, um…clean people?”

Rhett doesn’t seem offended, “You bet. Have to be. Another reason I’ve done this as long as I have. Money's great, but the safety is even better. I’m currently under contract with that same company I told you about – the one that director brought me under. On top of wanting to,” he air quotes his next words, “be classier’-”

He drops the quotes, “They wanted to provide an excellent work environment. Heck, me and the other actors and actresses probably have a cleaner bill of health than the entire state. Can’t shoot scene one until you’ve got the A-Okay.”

“Huh,” Link absorbs that with some surprise, but then, he supposes it really shouldn’t be. The adult film industry is a big lumbering beast right alongside it’s more recognized counterpart. No reason one shouldn’t be as cautious as the other. If anything, one has more right to be cautious.

Thinking on this, Link suddenly feels an odd pang. It’s a shame in one way that’s one viewed as more reckless than the other, more questionable. But, when viewed through a mostly puritan lens…

Not wanting to get too philosophical, Link switches gears, “You been in a lot of films?”

“My fair share.”

Another dodge, but Link will let him have it. However, he can practically feel devil horns rise as he asks with a naughty gleam to his eye, “Win any awards?”

Rhett’s practically preening, “Several.”

“Really?” Link asks with some surprise, but Rhett suddenly looks quite naughty himself. Naughty and…a bit too hot for Link’s liking as the heat that always seems to surround him when he’s near Rhett rises and woo boy, he’s really failing at this squashing-the-crush thing.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll show you one of my trophies some time…”

Everything in Link melts into a puddle and he’s not sure what expression he’s wearing, but it’s one that makes Rhett’s whole face light up, “…or maybe, just maybe, I’ll show you a little somethin’ else…”

If it’s possible for a melted puddle to also explode, then Link’s just done it. Rhett bursts into guffaws as he reaches forward and, very smoothly, pushes Link’s jaw up because Link’s jaw? It dropped. He didn’t even feel it drop.

And then, to just add more fuel to the fire, Rhett rubs the pad of his thumb along the bottom of Link’s chin, right below his lip, “Damn, son…you’re just too much for words.”

“I…”

That’s it.

That’s all that Link can offer.

Just one sound, one vowel.

Silent and stunned and Rhett draws back, looking like the cat that ate the canary as he lets him go and rises up from his seat, “Think you need a moment. I’ll be back in a bit.”

And – just like that – Rhett saunters out of the room.

#rhink #randl #my writing #peachworthy #oh my sweet peach

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luthienne · 3 years

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Who are your favourite characters from LOTR, or just Middle Earth as a whole? Your favourite quotes and songs from the books? Have you read The Silmarillion, and perhaps, the History of Middle Earth volumes? Are there any essays or poems of Tolkien you particularly like and recommend? Did you watch the movies first, or read the books? Are there other fantasy series you love? How did your love for fairies come about?

Apologies for the question dump. Today, my love for Middle Earth is overflowing, and I really wanted to share it.

oooh ok let's go:

legolas. aragorn. gimli. éowyn. faramir. éomer. lúthien. thranduil. elladan and elrohir. beleg and túrin. nienna. i’ve read the silmarillion, most of the history of middle earth, and the history of the lord of the rings volumes + the end of the third age. ofc the hobbit. i adore tolkien’s essay on fairy-stories. i think everyone who’s interested in fairy-tales should read it. i read the books first. my dad and my brother and i would drive up to the green river every summer to do 10-day float / camping trips. we’d listen to the lord of the rings and the hobbit on the drive up and sometimes around the campfire. the films came out when i was in sixth grade and i fell in love w them. my core friend group exists bc of the films. my love for the world of faerie sprung from those river trips with my dad, listening to tolkien, imagining mirkwood, elves, dark forests, and enchanted rivers. i grew up in the desert and all our river trips were in the canyonlands, but that only made me love the idea of enchanted forests even more.

for more fantasy/speculative fiction recs, you can check here.

if you looked at my beat up copy of the lord of the rings, you'd see so many highlights. it feels nearly impossible to choose favorite quotes. but:

“yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. what weather they shall have is not ours to rule.” —rotk, the last debate (gandalf)

“there, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, sam saw a white star twinkle for awhile. the beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. for like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.” —rotk, the land of shadow (sam)

“and he took her in his arms and kissed her under the sunlit sky, and he cared not that they stood high upon the walls in the sight of many.” —rotk, the houses of healing

“the trees and the grasses and all things growing or living in the land belong each to themselves.” —fotr, in the house of tom bombadil

“‘and now leave me in peace for a bit! i don’t want to answer a string of questions while i am eating. i want to think!’ ‘good heavens!’ said pippin. ‘at breakfast?’” —fotr, a short cut to the mushrooms

“the wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot for ever fence it out.” —fotr, three is company (gildor)

“‘but where shall i find courage?’ asked frodo. ‘that is what i chiefly need.’ ‘courage is found in unlikely places,’ said gildor.” —fotr, three is company

“before long the elves came down the lane towards the valley. they passed slowly, and the hobbits could see the starlight glimmering on their hair and in their eyes. they bore no lights, yet as they walked a shimmer, like the light of the moon above the rim of the hills before it rises, seemed to fall about their feet.” —fotr, three is company

“many evil things there are that your strong walls and bright swords do not stay.” —fotr, the council of elrond (aragorn)

“yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere.” —fotr, the council of elrond (gandalf)

“the world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places, but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.” —the two towers, lothlórien (haldir)

“Already she seemed to him ... present and yet remote, a living version of that which has already been left far behind by the flowing streams of time.” —the two towers, farewell to lórien

“‘they will look for him from the white tower,’ he said, ‘ but he will not return from mountain or from sea.’” —the two towers, the departure of boromir (aragorn)

i also love the lay of nimrodel and the lament for boromir. so bittersweet 🥺

“it was sam’s first view of a battle of men against men, and he did not like it much. he was glad that he could not see the dead face. he wondered what the man’s name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil of heart, or what lies or threats had led him on the long march from his home; and if he would not really rather have stayed there in peace —” —the two towers, of herbs and stewed rabbit

“...but i do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. i love only that which they defend.” —the two towers, the window on the west (faramir)

and finally, the sheer amount of sass gandalf has in these passages from the council of elrond describing his conversation with saruman:

“‘i looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colours, and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that they eye was bewildered. ‘i liked white better, i said.’”

‘i cannot think that you brought me so far only to weary my ears.’”

and some bonus grumpy gimli:

“we cannot pursue them through the whole fastness of fangorn. we have come ill supplied. if we do not find them soon, we shall be of no use to them, except to sit down beside them and show our friendship by starving together.” [mood. same. how i feel when my brother is late to dinner.]

#the only other fantasy series i could recommend would be for younger readers: the lionness quartet by tamora pierce #i was obsessed w that series when i was younger and i think it still holds up #anyway thank you for these middle earth questions!! i love them <3 #ask #anon #lotr #tolkien blogging

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tilbageidanmark · 2 years

Photo

Movies I watched this week #56

Renowned Palestinian director Elia Suleiman‘s 4th comedy, It must be heaven. Playing a version of his own mute Everyman character “ES”, he travels from his home in Nazareth to Paris of Jacques Tati and to NYC, in search of funding for his next film, and of his complex national identity. Like a silent-era Roy Andersson tableaux, it combines ambiguous slapstick and mature compositions, into a series of absurd visual skits. 7+/10. (Photo Above).

🍿

Another middle-eastern who also fled his country to Paris in 2019, trying unsuccessfully to find roots somewhere else, was the “hero” in the Israeli film Synonyms. A terribly pretentious (affected, presumptuous) story of an uninteresting (dull, boring) young man, who is not charismatic (compelling, engaging) in any way. The director, Nadav Lapid, is 46, but this feels like a film school project, a juvenile (immature, puerile) exercise in style. 1/10.

🍿

Based on a best seller book by Tom McCarthy, Remainder is a stunning thriller I never heard of, and apparently not many others did either.

It tells of a young man crippled by a freak accident which "involved something falling from the sky". After winning £ 8.5 million in a compensation settlement, he starts hiring people to reenact fragments of the few memories he still possess from before the accident. Incredible sound production! Debut feature by (another) Israeli director Omer Fast.

Unexpected discovery of the week!

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2 Russian masterpieces:

🎦🎦🎦 Tale of tales, a mysterious 1979 Russian short by Yuri Norstein, considered by many to be one of the greatest animated film of all time, and often compared to Tarkovsky’s The Mirror. An singularly impressionist poem about the ghosts of memories and war, a smudgy, crudely-drawn fairy tale that evokes happy then tragic childhoods of history. (Photo Above).

The Weary Sun Tango used as leitmotif.

🎦🎦🎦 The Return, (his first and) my third Andrey Zvyagintsev (after ‘Elena’ and ‘Leviathan’). It’s a devastating story of two brothers whose taciturn, absent father suddenly returns after 12 mysterious years away.

Best movie of the week, by a large margin.

(Tragically, before winning the Golden Lion in Venice, the 15-year-old who played the older boy drowned while jumping from the top of a tower on which the film's opening sequence was shot.)

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2025 - The World enslaved by a Virus, a Hands-of-Manos-terrible, anti-Covid Christian handjob guaranteed to be remembered as the worst film of the year.

No need for me to compose any pithy critique when I can simply quote IMDB: It's a magical kind of bad- the rare movie that might actually be so bad it's good, thanks to its implausible premise (where Christianity is outlawed worldwide by 2025!), blatant preachiness, terrible acting, hilarious dialogue, insane music choices, incoherent editing, awkward romance...

Reddit Bonus: Consent age in Germany is 14, so the dude who made this persecution complex gem acted within the law when he started dating the main actress.

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2 by Richard Linklater, both from 2006:

🎦🎦🎦 Fast Food Nation - I loved Eric Schlosser’s original bestseller, and I loved this fictionalized interpretation of it, as different as it was. “We have shit in our meat!”

With Alabama Worley as the mother. And the Mexican immigrants sub-story is HARSH! And it’s good to know that Linklater is also a lifelong vegetarian. The fundamental sins of factory food, American consumerism abuse and cruel capitalism are heart breaking. May all carnivores pay the price for their deadly crimes. 10/10.

🎦🎦🎦 A scanner darkly, a trippy, drug-fueled Philip K. Dick nightmare, accurately describing the mental landscape of Anaheim, California which I remember from living there for over 10 years. With Alex Fucken Jones, as a crazy street prophet with a bullhorn.

I loved its freaky rotoscopeic animations, hi-wired paranoia and complicated dystopic brain fogs.

I have to do a little Richard Linklater's retrospective!

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David Bowie X 2:

🎦🎦🎦 A disappointing, first re-watch in many years, Nicolas Roeg’s The Man Who Fell to Earth with cocaine-thin Alien-Man Bowie in his first starring film role. At the height of his glam rock space fetish period, Bowie does Bowie, but the truth is that by now I just hate most "Science fiction” movies (2001 / Blade Runner, etc. notwithstanding...) and even this Roeg soft-core classic doesn’t work for me any more.

🎦🎦🎦 David Bowie: Finding Fame, is an unsatisfying talky documentary about his early years. Done in a schlocky, quick-edit montage, with irritating onscreen text, layering of multiple images, but without much heart or soul. At least it describes the (new-to-me) long decade in which he struggled in relative obscurity to find success as a star, until he hit upon Space Odyssey and his Ziggy Stardust personality. Meh.

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Anémic Cinéma, the only film that Marcel Duchamp produced, a 7 minutes avant-Garde ditty, shot in 1926 by his Dada friend Man Ray. Interesting only as a historical document, and in relation to the new Duchamp Research Portal.

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2 Directed by Sally Potter:

🎦🎦🎦 Orlando, a gender-bender adaptation of the Virginia Woolf allegory about an androgynous nobleman who, in the course of 400 years, becomes a woman. A feminist parable with young Tilda Swinton, that grew on me as I watched on, in spite of disliking the pomp and circumstances of the period drama tropes.

🎦🎦🎦 The Party, a short (71 min.), seven-actor ensemble drama (with Patricia Clarkson, Bruno Ganz, Cillian Murphy, Kristin Scott Thomas, Timothy Spall, et. al.). Everybody harbors secrets in this mixed satire, staged in three rooms as an old-fashioned play.

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Fantasia, Disney’s third ever animated feature, an experimental and partially free flowing, psychedelic musical from 1940. The onset of WW2 tanked it financially, and I wonder how animation would have developed differently, had this been a commercial success.

For some reason, I'm trying to visualize how Nietzsche (or JS Bach!) would react if he could watch this on an iPad, or on a big screen theater! Would they even be able to decipher what is happening?!

(Re-watch).

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Peter Sellers X 2 Plus:

🎦🎦🎦 The Ghost of Peter Sellers is an interesting behind-the-scenes expose by Hungarian director Peter Medak. In it he returns to his disastrous production of the comedy ‘Ghost in the Noonday Sun’, which remains his biggest fiasco. The original was shot in Cyprus in 1974 and was plagued by Sellers erratic and destructive behavior. The documentary offers an unknown-to-me glimpse into the British film industry of the early ‘70′s. 6/10.

🎦🎦🎦 My first (and last) Inspector Clouseau farce, the second in the Pink Panther series, A shot in the dark. The bumbling, lecherous investigator who was “Clumsy” in a dated physical comedy way, was just terribly unfunny. 1/10.

🎦🎦🎦 Bonus: Goodness Gracious Me was a video-comedy-song produced by George Martin, starring Peter Sellers and Sophia Loren, with clips from their 1960 film ‘The Millionairess’. It was later also covered by Rowan Atkinson and Ted Lasso’s Nick Mohammed.

🍿

So I watched the mesmerizing Hated in the nation - again! Fourth re-watch this year, and the second time in two weeks (!)

Instead of waiting for somebody to reboot a new series about the adventures of DCI Karin Parke and DC Blue Coulson, I should write the pilot myself!

“This is a good school"

🍿

- - - - -

Throw-back to the art project:

David Bowie Adora.

- - - - -

(My complete movie list is here)

#movies

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dreamsofthescreen · 2 years

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The Twisted World of Pan's Labyrinth - Analysis & Review

With a backdrop similar to the black paintings of Fransisco Goya, like ’The Third of May 1808’ or ‘Saturn Devouring his Son’, Del Toro’s ‘Pan’s Labyrinth’ both enchants and frightens.

Guillermo Del Toro on set of ‘Pan’s Labyrinth’

Watching through Spanish director Guillermo Del Toro’s ‘Pan’s Labyrinth’, it’s easy to pick it up as a surrealist war piece. Yet to pick it apart in all it’s themes and glory is to delve deeper into the wonder and twisted nature of the production. The set focus on facism and womanhood does not relate, yet appear both in the war torn atmosphere that Del Toro sets up. How much can we analyse a piece of cinema? Like an English teacher breaking down how every move in classic literature has a meaning, the many facets of Del Toro’s work make it the most wondrous. The wild imagination is conveyed in the greatest sense, as visuals and communicative metaphorical devices take centrefold with Pans Labyrinth. The overdone, cutting violence can be an interruption, yet is however necessary when contrasting with the softness of one girls journey. Mind and heart, if there ever was a saying, that is how we are impacted.

With a backdrop similar to the black paintings of Fransisco Goya, like ’The Third of May 1808’ or ‘Saturn Devouring his Son’, Del Toro’s ‘Pans Labyrinth’ both enchants and frightens. Set on the backdrop of 1944 Spain, Allies have invaded and are led by the sadistic Capitan Vidal. With him is his pregnant wife and her 11 year old daughter. Fascinated with fairy-tales, young character, Ofelia, played by Ivana Baquero, encounters creatures that, to put it lightly, are not what you’d find in a classic children’s book. The mix of hideous realism and the stark nature of warfare contrasted by with the surreal escapism are elements that make Del Toro’s story wildly original. Drawing on folklore and fantasy traditions, Ivana Baquero plays ‘Ofelia’, a character who, to quote Del Toro, “saves so many things…her presence and decisions change the real world”. The grandeur and versatile components like costuming, set design, fantasy elements, effects, score, mystery, good vs evil and expert cinematography all make up the adventure tale, and with their quality, take it to new heights. Del Toro’s work stands out superbly, with Pan’s Labyrinth being one of his most notable projects, as it sticks out like a colourful and sore thumb. For something that is wired in the soul, the focus on childhood, innocence and change, all alongside somewhat familiar, yet darkly twisted fairytale creatures makes the picture.

The setting plays a great part in Ofelia’s world, as in the midst of one of the most violent wars in history, Del Toro absolutely does not stray away from this. The merciless and horrifically gory scenes can be seen as somewhat unnecessary, but all add to the visceral, cutting experience that the film provides in each element. The scars and bleeding at the start set the tone of the wickedly confronting piece. The roundedness in it and it’s two realities, both literally in the sense that it is set in a gratifying, naturalistic wood, as well as the fact that the plot line is eerily reminiscent of abusive wartime experiences. There is an escape in warfare for Ofelia, but is it really one when it can be seen as just as dangerous as war itself?

On a first watch, you may not see it, but Pan’s Labyrinth puts a remarkable point of creating striking themes that touch in on moral obedience, femininity, choices; even discussing fascism. Del Toro’s focus on these in other realms and forms of mythical creatures not only make it all the more wildly intriguing, but are equally effective in it’s ingenuity. The trials young Ofelia is put through to reach emotional and physical maturity when facing frightening creatures give her opportunity to grow, and in that, contrast the childhood of the supposed fairytales that are presented. The wondrous fantasy woodland world acts as a moral ground for Ofelia, having her make life-defying choices that eventuate in the reflection of the result of the Spanish war. This utilisation of setting is a gorgeous element of Del Toro’s work, as it combines the beauty and twisted aspect of nature, and how we are ultimately affected in it. It too shows Ofelia’s grand difference and almost appreciation of the natural world, the childlike charm and longing to explore greatly contrasts the concrete, colourless world of war.

Amongst maternal characters like her mother Carmen & housemaid, Mercedes, Ofelia is challenged and thrust into womanhood, something that Del Toro powerfully communicates with what can be said to be a feminist message. Carmen represents a repressed femininity, especially when seen with Captain Vidal, as he oppresses any such independence or voice coming from his new wife, and step-daughter, Ofelia. Sending a message of clear sexism coming from Vidal, Ofelia can be seen as acting as a replacement of her mother, or her mother’s potential as a woman. Her trials and tribulations make her just as significant as Captain Vidal. Audiences are presented with a view that as Ofelia faces life-threatening challenges in her life, like Vidal, young women are just as significant in power or meaning as a typically glorified man at war. Yet her glory lies deeper, as she clearly has stronger character and humanity in her, having her qualities, added with her circumstances, almost surprisingly rise above Vidal.

Ivana Baquero & Doug Jones in 'Pan's Labyrinth'

The strikingly infamous and frightening sequence of Ofelia with the Pale Man can be seen to so cleverly represent the fear and movement into adulthood, along with it’s deep trials and tribulations. Del Toro showcases this brutally and quite literally. The decision making that has fatal results reflects the intensity of morals and choice that Ofelia is learning, testing her disobedience and having her see it’s measures. Further to this, the comparison and contrast between the Pale Man and Vidal himself is there, as both are murderers and Ofelia does leave each to flee awful circumstances. The multiple fantasy elements add a great richness to the context of the already overwhelmingly engaging picture, a real chiaroscuro (if that exists in cinema) taking hold of many scenes. The twisted view of fairytales and enhancement of them has us seeing children’s stories and perspectives in a new and educational light. The purpose they serve is to introduce a harsh reality - Little Red Riding Hood teaching us not to trust strangers and Pinocchio teaching us to speak the truth. The mentioning of the facism of the time comes into place with Del Toro creating an algorithm to present the terror of the totalitarian leadings of Capitan Vidal and The Pale Man. Both have such eagerness to utilise violence as a means of control and to destroy human nature and free wills.

The beauty of world cinema is a genre in of itself, Pan’s Labyrinth showcasing that power and different inspiration that Spanish cinema carries. A focus on heart, family, emotion and power all overtake the impassioned Mexican directors cinematic world. Del Toro’s mix of thematic messages and intelligence on differing levels, specifically seen in the young Ofelia, given her fantastic comebacks with each harrowing ‘test’ and encounter with hell in a mythical form. The beauty and uniqueness in Pan’s Labyrinth’s surreal nature is something that so strongly sets it apart from any ordinary thriller film. The Spanish-led film has Del Toro destroying the sometimes popular notion that horror films are not interesting or award winning. The genre combinations and grand enchantment, as well as the powerhouse, raw filmmaking all add to the beauty of another touching world film.

Whether or not a fan of thriller films, the truly enchanting, whimsical music that this piece of cinema carries creates the passion and significance in it. With questions unanswered, audiences can be encouraged to create their own meaning within the work of Del Toro. Yet is harmoniously affects us in both a fantastical and disturbing sense, the monsters of the woodland world following us after watching the film. That’s when you know you’re affected by a piece of cinema & it’s no wonder that ‘Pan’s Labyrinth’ has garnered such enthusiastic attention within it’s engrossing messages and stunning scenery. Since it’s release, Del Toro has blown it out of the water, winning the Academy Award for Best Director in 2018, for another one of his ultra-quirky, yet moving works ‘The Shape Of Water’. World cinema doesn’t get enough credit for it’s impact and relevance with our world today, as we can be more inclined to stick with films pouring out of Hollywood. Yet for a foreign director succeeding in Hollywood, there is a place to start. And the place to start with Del Toro really is Pan's Labyrinth.

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 4 years

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for the quiet night in ask: how did Grima make his way into your heart? And why do you ship him with Eomer? I've been meaning to inquire about this for long hehe (also I love your theme! think this is the first time I see it)

I am so sorry, you’re getting an ESSAY.

I’ve been wanting to talk about my Grima feels FOR SO LONG.

HE SNAKED HIS WAY INTO MY HEART.

Um, tl;dr I have a soft spot for the bad guys who clearly have a complicated history with those they are opposing and I think Eomer/Grima have a fun opposites-attract dynamic and I love a good redemption story.

I don’t touch on literacy and Grima in this because that’s strictly the films and it’s worthy of it’s own post entirely.

I’m trying to think best how to break this all out, because it gets a bit long and rambly. I’m using both book and films for this, as a note. Since I tend to mash up different aspects of those Grima’s in my head, give the guy some eyebrows, and call it a day.

So, first off, his history. Now, we don’t really have anything to go on in canon here. All we know, in both book and film, is that Grima “was once a man of Rohan” (ROTK). In the book, Gandalf says: “This here, is a snake. To slay it [Grima] would be just. But it was not always as it is now. Once it was a man, and it did you service in its fashion.”

Grima evidently has served Rohan for some years at this point. We know that Theoden’s enchantment/possession began three years prior to TTT. In the books there is no possession. Theoden’s enchantment relies on the powers of words and their suggestions. Something Tolkien was well aware of carrying great weight and import in Anglo-Saxon culture. You tell a man he is old and infirm, he will become old and infirm.

I understand why Jackson went the possession route - explaining Anglo-Saxon engagement with galdorcraeft/witchcraft and the power of words etc. and how that influenced the development of Rohan in the span of like 7 minutes of screen time wasn’t happening. Possession works for the same purpose, but in a language the modern audience is familiar with - especially in visual mediums. Grima is circa 40 when TTT happens, same age as Boromir for reference. So, let’s say he’s been an advisor for 10/12 years at this point. He has therefore been a good servant of the king longer than he’s been a traitor.

Hence, the outreach. And, in Brad Dourif’s wonderful acting, Grima’s clear desire to go home to his king. In the book it’s more subtle. Grima chucks the palantir out the window at Orthanc and it’s stated that he wasn’t sure who he was aiming for, Saruman or Gandalf, because he couldn’t decide who he hated more.

Honestly? Legit. I would also hate the guy who reduced me to “it” pronouns. But maybe that’s my gender identity stuff playing up ;)

(Granted, in the full quote Gandalf reverts back to “he”, for context. And I’ve said this before, in another post, that it makes sense for Gandalf and as a writer, I agree with Tolkien’s decisions for that scene.)

Now, for some speculation. Not that I haven’t spilled a tonne already. MORE SPECULATION. This time bringing you long term effects of bullying and never having loving relationships modelled for you! Because LOTR, at the end of the day, is all about trauma and how maybe not to deal with it.

So - motives.

We know Saruman’s motives. Indeed, he tells them to us in FOTRK: “[to] have power, power to order all things as we will, for that good which only the Wise can see” and to achieve “the high and ultimate purpose: Knowledge, Rule, Order; all the things that we have so far striven in vain to accomplish, hindered rather than helped by our weak or idle friends.”

Great. Super straight forward. And from the man’s own mouth.

Grima’s though, always come to us second hand. In the books it’s Gandalf telling us (Gandalf can mind read, so yes, maybe he is accurate). In the films, it’s Eomer guestimating.

But Grima never actually tells us, himself, what his motives are.

(a quick aside: if some dude is shoving me up against a pole and threatening me, and I hear someone walking by, of course I’m going to look over at them and it by no means indicates my desire to shag that person. Now, of course, we know from other scenes this is the case. I’m just saying. It’s natural to look over at the person walking by while you’re being jumped by the Third Marshal of the Mark who is twice your size. anyway.)

So what are his driving forces for treason? What made him go to this point of no return then keep going even when people offered him a way back.

It is important to note that his treason required him to forswear his oath to his liege lord. I don’t know how to convey what a big deal that would have been, in modern terms. But it would have been huge. Forswearing/reneging on oaths was a massive cultural taboo in Anglo-saxon [AS] England (and general, early medieval Europe).

And, as Rohan is based on AS England (I forget if Tolkien was cagey about this. He was sometimes a dumb shit and coy about things so was like “noooo it’s not STRICTLY AS England….but it’s clearly AS England with more horses and a light dusting of vikings and the Danelaw”), we can assume it carried as much weight for them as it did for the historical people.

(Indeed, it’s implied, if not directly stated, in the text what a big deal oath breaking is. Don’t say “oath breaking” too loud or the Silmarillion fandom will come out of the woodwork)

The big takeaway: BIG DEAL TO FORSWEAR YOUR OATH.

And he did it! Which is why I don’t buy the “it was because of Eowyn and like some nice jewels.” You don’t betray your country, you don’t forswear your oath to your king, simply because you’re hot on the king’s niece and Saruman might give you a raise.

And, as a liege man to Theoden, he was part of Theoden’s household so would have eaten, worked with, lived with everyone else in the household (Eomer, until he becomes Third Marshal; Eowyn; Hama; Theoden’s guards etc.)

So, you live with these people, eat with them, drink with them, spend all your time with them, for circa 10 years then you do a bunk and betray them? Something happened. I suspect it was years and years of things happening.

Overall, I think it to be a combination of things. As is usually the case for these sorts of crimes. In this case, a nice mix of fear, desperation, greed, resentment, anger and desire.

Fear/Desperation: So, to Grima’s mind the world is ending. Why wouldn’t he think this? Hell, even the Wisest and the Fairest (i.e. wizards & elves) think it’s ending. Why wouldn’t this poor bloke from some small country nearby to Mordor not think it an existential threat to an unimaginable degree?

Grima is sat here in Rohan looking at Mordor going "oh fuck" then who are the leaders left? Denethor (slightly bonkers) and Theoden (past his prime and lacklustre, like his father and grandfather).

This is not a man with a strong moral fiber. Or...any moral fiber, let’s be real. He does not have the fortitude to stick it out through hopeless situations. And it would have been hopeless to his eyes. And those around him (see: Eomer’s do not trust to hope… Sure Saruman was a problem, but he wasn’t just talking about the white wizard).

Gandalf’s plan, which none of these people were ever wholly aware of, was a goddamn Hail Mary pass and it worked. Barely, but it did. NO ONE had reason to believe it would, though. And those are people in the know. Not someone like Grima who has no fucking clue what Gandalf et al is up to. He sees Gandalf then like … Nazgul torture him on the planes of Rohan (Unfinished Tales). He sees Gandalf then bad things happen.

Lathspell indeed.

Greed & Desire: I don’t think I need to go into these ones too much. They’re pretty self explanatory. Grima and Black Phillip hung out and the goat asked Grima if he wanted to live deliciously and Grima, like any normal person, said: um, yes please? Also, Eowyn was around being badass, beautiful and untouchable.

Resentment/Anger: Alright, more probing in the dark. I suspect, for one reason or another (and these reasons would vary depending if you’re looking at books or movies), he was someone who was always treated as other/differently, teased, picked on, isolated, overlooked, doesn’t measure up to Rohan’s military ideal of masculinity. All of which creates an underlying resentment issue.

And nothing festers quite like resentment.

On top of that, I also suspect he was always told he was a snake/untrustworthy/not worthy etc. and if you're told something enough, and you don't have anything or anyone else telling you the opposite, there is a strong chance you become that thing.

It's a chicken and egg: the face you wear to the world tells the world how to treat you; the world tells you what you are and that is how you shape your face.

THEN you add in Saruman. Who is clearly, in the text, abusive. Which, if there were any inferiority/bullied etc. issues that are informing Grima’s actions, Saruman is just going to amplify it.

“You are a traitor because you’re a snake, and you’re a snake because you’re spineless, weak, nothing more than a creature that crawls on its stomach on the ground. Snakes are bad, evil things. Which is all you’ve ever been. Barely deserving of the good treatment I give you etc.” <-- all of which is basically a summary of what Saruman has been saying to him for a few years at this point (in the book, it’s only tangentially implied in the movies).

So Grima sort of morphed himself into what he believed himself to be, fuelled by that perversity resentment causes: Oh you think I’m a snake? I’ll be the best goddamn most poisonous snake you ever did see. Just watch me.

He is trapped in this situation. A hutch to trammel some wild thing in.

Which leads me to an interesting point that I think gets lost sometimes: Narratively, he and Eowyn are similar in what they are experiencing. Isolation, being overlooked, misunderstood/misrepresented, don't fit into societal roles and expectations etc. They just go in very different directions in how they respond to it.

I think that's why, in the film, it was smart to have her give pause and listen to him because what he's saying resonates. He is, in some ways, speaking as much for himself as her. But then, of course, he's also just trying to shit disturb and make mischief so of course, at the end of the day, any sympathy he is attempting to convey is laced with poison.

I do wonder, too, if he's the first person to see her fear and her frustrations and acknowledges them out loud. Which is powerful. To have someone see you. Damn shame it's Grima. Still, Eowyn (in the film) paused and listened for a reason.

A brief aside on my idle, ill founded thoughts on gender and Rohan:

One of the reasons I think Eowyn and Grima go in diverging directions, is that Eowyn is performing masculinity, in her society's accepted interpretation of it. Masculinity, in Middle Earth, is clearly the norm. And in Rohan, it’s a very particular iteration of military-focused masculinity that is idealized (you can bet, men who killed like 10 orcs were awarded places in court above Grima who served as advisor for like ten years but hasn’t killed an orc ever).

Eowyn’s desire to live/perform this more masculine ideal caters to the subconscious thing of “Masculinity is Natural Neutral Ideal” so of course you would want to be more like A Man. Whereas Grima is the opposite, not performing masculinity according to Rohan's accepted view of it.

And gods, in Anglo-Saxon culture (therefore, Rohan’s, most likely. I see no evidence to the contrary) is that a difficult position to find yourself in. Back in AS England, being called argr, unmanly, or to be accused of ergri, unmanliness, was one of the worst insults you could throw at a man (indeed, some laws said you could kill a man in retaliation for calling you such things). I would bet my shirt that people used such insults about Grima in this world. Which is all kinds of messed up.

Now, my interest in him is my general love for a good redemption arc for the most hopeless of characters. It’s why I struggle to call Boromir’s arc, when he’s written as living, a redemption arc. Because I don’t know he has much to redeem himself for. In his own mind, sure, yes, but externally? Not in my view, at least. He has things he’s done wrong and needs to make amends for. But that’s different from redemption.

Grima, on the other hand, is one whose walk-back from evil would be a full on redemption arc. And I like it because he’s not nice, he’s not pleasant. He will never be nice or pleasant or cheerful. But learning how to love and be a good person doesn’t require niceness.

Saruman could be plenty nice. Sauron could be plenty nice. Look what they turned out to be.

And in my writing, I do hope I’m treading that line between creating an understanding of who Grima is without Kylo-Ren-ing him. Or, woobiefying him, as the old parlance was. That’s the line I’m really aiming for. I want people to not hate him. I want them to understand him. Oh, still condemn him, still judge him, disagree with him, acknowledge and know he did bad things and isn’t a nice person. But the end game is to add some understanding and nuance.

Shades of grey.

Also I’m a sucker for challenging redemptions.

Why Eomer/Grima?

Because I am an agent of chaos.

More seriously, I was never overly taken with the Grima/Eowyn approach, personally, which is obviously popular (um...within the Grima world), and closer to canon. There are some beautifully written fics and art out there for the two of them, so if you’re into that. The creators in that nook of fandom are top notch.

I always liked the drastic opposite of Grima and Eomer. As I noted above, Grima and Eowyn are two sides of the same coin. Both bitter and resentful and trapped. And that’s a lot of fun to play with, and i get it. But for me, I love a good strong contrast of personalities in my pairings. (If that uh … isn’t readily apparent.)

I think both Eomer and Grima would have a lot to teach each other and in some really interesting ways that neither would expect. I can see both getting under each other’s skin in that way where you’re sort of always thinking about them.

Grima is also someone who has had very little love in his life (I suspect he wants it, he just doesn’t know how to give or receive it). Eomer is someone who has lost a lot of people (parents, quasi-uncle for a few years there. I think it’s why he’s so controlling over Eowyn. Didn’t want to lose her). And I think there’s something in there where they could help each other grow. But I’m a sucker for some beauty to be there, in the end. Some hope.

Mostly, though, I think it boils down to their dynamic and the angst potential. Eomer is this brash, forthright, fiery third marshal of the mark who may or may not think things through. Big of heart, dumb of ass. Then there’s Grima who is quiet and reserved, cynical, critical, always has a plan or five, gets by via his wits etc. Lots of fun potential there.

#LOTR #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #grima wormtongue #rohan #eorlingas #LOTR meta #ask #reply #eomer

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emma-what-son · 3 years

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Is this one of the few times Emma was truly honest in an interview? (mostly)

This is an old interview from 2012. It's been a while since I read it, but only after reading it now do I realize how honest Emma really was here. I believe that we don't really know the real Emma. We know Emmione, the image she wants us to have of her.

She admits here how it was easier to be Emmione than to convince people otherwise and in the years after she really took the image to new heights. Read the full interview here.

We are seated on a velvet brown banquette at a corner table in a grand hotel in New York. Breakfast sits untouched as she stares at her face on the cover of Emma Watson: the Biography. She is dressed in a baggy jumper with her hair pulled back; her young-looking expressive face currently registers anguish. Previous interviews with Watson have portrayed her as a self-possessed, mature young woman who acknowledges her luck and gratitude in abundance. Perhaps, as she will later say, if I'd met her on a different morning, that side of her would have been present.

But there is another side. Someone who remains, despite her best efforts, emotionally overwhelmed by the vibrations of fame.

We had just begun to talk about the hazards of being a private person in a public world when, as a gesture to underline the absurdity of it all, I pulled out of my bag a copy of the unauthorised biography - a book that chronicles how it feels to be Watson, despite the fact she never met the author.

It hit a nerve. She has it in her to laugh it off, but this morning it has elicited a raw and unfiltered response. Tears fill her brown eyes, which remain unblinking and fixated on the cover image of herself. It stares back. She can't look away as she tries to make sense of it. "I read these pages and it has nothing to do with my real life, with who I am. It is a piece of fiction, but that's my face on the cover."

She is holding the book with both hands and turns suddenly defiant. "The first time I saw this book was when I was on the set in New Orleans," she states. "For The End of the World - a movie I just did. This super-cute 11- or 12-year-old girl came up to me and she had pages folded down and she had her special bookmark in it. It looked like she'd been carrying it around for a while. And she really wanted me to sign it. It's really weird that it's not just Hermione who has become someone important to people who love those books, but the idea of who Emma Watson is too."

That she refers to herself in the third person shows how removed she is from her public persona.

Indeed, she says it feels like she has three selves: Fictional Emma, Real Emma, and then the person she happens to be playing at the time. Since the age of nine, that person has been Hermione Granger.

Watson has been a famous person for 13 of her 22 years. Her tearful manner reveals she is not hardened to the realities of it. "I started off at the beginning of the [Harry Potter] series adamantly protecting my own sense of self and my identity as Emma," she says. The book has now been placed, cover down, in the space between us. "I was this nine-year-old who would be sat in these interviews going, 'No, I'm not anything like her, I'm different because of this and this and this - at nine." She sighs.

"People would say, 'You are really Hermione, aren't you?' and it went on and on till it got to a point where I said, fine. It's easier for me to say we're one person because that keeps everyone happy. I'll go with that."

The parallels were convenient to draw. Hermione and Watson were both hard-working, cerebral, academically driven students who aim high, get straight As, and are eager to please. But what separates Watson is that she's an emotional person. She has unresolved and conflicted feelings that surface occasionally, as they have on this morning. "Today is the first day of the craziness," she says, referring to the two weeks of non-stop publicity she has ahead, promoting her latest film, The Perks of Being a Wallflower. "I walk out of my apartment and there are paparazzi there. I'm flying to LA and then Toronto and then New York and back to London - it makes me emotional because it's intense."

Does she have the constitution to be a big movie star? "I've thought about that a lot," she says. "And no, I don't have the constitution to be a big movie star. Or a big celebrity." She pauses. "But I do have the constitution to be a good actress. Some of the stuff is really hard for me. But I really like my job when I'm doing my job. It's just there's this weird blur that's happened between being a celebrity and being an actress."

Okay, she was mostly honest in this interview. About her image at least, and I sympathize with her struggles growing up as a teenager, but I believe she truly enjoyed the fame that came with being an actress.

She looks exasperated. "I was interviewed at 13 or 14, and the journalist said, 'So that means you'd never have to work for money?' and I said yes. The quote was, 'I never have to work for money again,' and that quote has haunted me.

Nah, she was 18 when she said that. X

She shakes her head when I ask if she has any indulgences. "I don't have a need for a lot of money right now. I'm still renting my house. I'm travelling for film work: the studios usually put me up. I still stay at my parents' house. I have my one car - I didn't buy an expensive car because I'm a terrible driver. I'd trash it. So I pay for my phone and my laptop, and I bought a record player - I like records - nice little things like that, but I don't even feel like it [money] is there.

She forgot to mention the ski lodge she bought in 2008. X X

Her schedule is full. At the end of next year she'll begin Beauty and the Beast, and she's talking with the director, Guillermo del Toro, about whom he will cast as the Beast. The project came about when she was sent the script, and she chose del Toro as the director, a mark of her power, stature and taste.

That seems to be Emma's version of what happened. That WB had a script that they sent and that she went to Del Toro with it.

NYtimes 2012: And then I’m doing a film with Guillermo [del Toro] next summer, and I went to him and said Warner Brothers have given me the script for ‘Beauty and the Beast,’ but the only way I’d really want to do it is if you did it. And then miraculously he said, ‘Oh, funnily enough ‘Beauty and the Beast’ is my favorite fairy tale, I can’t let anyone else do this, I’ll start putting a team together.’

But it seems that Del Toro was the one who wrote the script.

From snitchseeker.com June 2012 (From Emma’s Q&A with fans), “Q1 - What’s happening with Beauty and the Beast? Emma: Guillermo del Toro, the director, has just finished editing his last film and is working on the script and pre-production for Beauty and the Beast.”

From Deadline June 2014: EXCLUSIVE: Guillermo del Toro has withdrawn as the director of Beauty, the live-action revisionist take on Beauty And The Beast that has Emma Watson attached to star. Warner Bros has started the process of finding a new director. Del Toro had other commitments, but he’s still firmly part of the movie. He wrote the script, and he’s producing the film with Denise DiNovi. Del Toro is directing the haunted house pic Crimson Peak.

We've discussed all this before of course, but I was bored so...

#interview #emmione

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new-sandrafilter · 5 years

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True Romance: Saoirse Ronan and Timothée Chalamet on reuniting for Little Women

They may be posing in an airy lower Manhattan studio, but Timothée Chalamet and Saoirse Ronan have a way of making you feel right at home. “I made a little playlist this morning,” Chalamet announces to the room. He syncs up his cell phone to the sound system, his boyish grin widening as Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” starts blaring. He returns to the camera, which snaps him and Ronan at a furious pace.

It’s their first joint cover shoot. He’s wearing a shimmery striped shirt with high-waist trousers; she’s rocking a shirtdress, fishnet stockings, and clear stilettos. He keeps cracking her up; she musses his hair with doting affection. During a break that follows, he wanders, gripping a paper bag stuffed with assorted bagels — from Tompkins Square Bagels, which Chalamet, a lifelong New Yorker, insists are the best in the city — and offering one to anyone in his path. He sings and dances — very Elio-in-the-town-square-like — to Bob Dylan’s “Tombstone Blues.” He creeps behind a distracted Ronan before spooking her with a yelp. “I didn’t even know you were there!” she exclaims, reddening from the fright but with a smile so lovingly at ease, you sense she’s used to the prank.

They’ve known each other, after all, for some time. About three years ago, Ronan, now 25, and Chalamet, 23, met filming Lady Bird, Greta Gerwig’s solo directorial debut, in which Ronan’s irrepressible heroine (briefly) romances Chalamet’s douchey amateur musician. They reunited with Gerwig last year, on the heels of Lady Bird’s Oscar-nominated success, for a bigger undertaking: a remake of the oft-remade Little Women (Dec. 25). Ronan and Chalamet slipped into the roles of tomboyish Jo March and buoyant Theodore “Laurie” Laurence, best friends who ultimately break each other’s hearts. Their courtship ranks among American culture’s oldest tales of unrequited love — made indelible by Katharine Hepburn and Douglass Montgomery, Winona Ryder and Christian Bale, and so many others — yet finds, in the hands of two of the most compelling actors of their generation, galvanizing new life.

That goes, in fact, for the whole of Gerwig’s Little Women. Her version certainly contains the snow-globe coziness of treasured adaptations past, but also carries a fizzy emotional authenticity and attention to detail. The film is remarkably lived-in, too: This take on Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 novel, which follows Jo and her three sisters pre– and post–American Civil War, feels plucked straight from the text in the best way, with siblings fighting like siblings, love and loss and hope and pain vividly experienced on screen.

Ronan and Chalamet’s charming big sister–little brother dynamic is not unlike the one that Jo and Laurie share in Little Women. Watch the actors play off one another, and the film’s tender realism clarifies itself: Their on-camera intimacy is just as palpable behind the scenes. Indeed, after shooting Lady Bird for a few weeks, the pair hung out regularly over the next year, making the awards-circuit rounds and scoring lead-acting Oscar nominations — Ronan for Lady Bird, Chalamet for Call Me by Your Name — before swiftly signing on to Little Women. In advance of filming in Concord, Mass. (the actual setting of the book), Gerwig and producer Amy Pascal gathered the large production’s cast and crew for rehearsals at a house just outside the town. For Ronan and Chalamet, the contrast between this and their early Lady Bird days was immense. “I felt very prideful… about how big it had gotten, how many people were there,” Chalamet recounts. “On Lady Bird it was, like, 25 people hanging out in a house!”

They fell back into each other’s rhythms instantly. “He keeps me on my toes — I’m never quite sure what he’s going to do next,” Ronan says. “That only progressed more and grew more. It helped that we do have a very natural rapport with each other…. These two characters physically need to be very comfortable with one another. They’re literally intertwined for half the film.” Chalamet adds: “In the least clichéd way possible, it really doesn’t feel like [I’m] acting sometimes [with her].”

Chalamet credits Gerwig, too, for establishing a playful, comfortable atmosphere. He thinks back to his first day of rehearsal: He reunited with Ronan. He introduced himself to Emma Watson (who plays the eldest March sister, Meg). He was guided into a third-floor conference room of a “random building” where, “all of a sudden, there was a full dance class going on.” He recalls fondly: “Everyone breaks down and becomes a little kid. This job is so trippy in that regard — you want to be serious, you want to be professional, and then it’s almost best when you’re able to be 12 years old. When it’s someone you’re actually friends with, it makes it easier.”

Ronan smirks, gearing up for a jab: “We’re not friends!” Delighted, Chalamet keeps the bit going. “We’re not friends,” he says, solemnly. For once, they’re not very convincing.

Greta Gerwig doesn’t remember a time before she knew Jo March. “[Little Women] was very much part of who I always was,” the writer-director, 36, says. “It was something my mother read to me when I was growing up. It’s been with me for a very long time.”

She joined Sony Pictures’ new Little Women adaptation when she was hired to write the script in 2016. Once Lady Bird bowed the next year, she emerged as a candidate to direct the film. “Greta had a very specific, energized, kind of punk-rock, Shakespearean take on this story,” Pascal says. “She came in and had a meeting with all of us and said, ‘I know this has been done before, but nobody can do it but me.’” She got the gig.

In her approach, Gerwig drew on her lifelong relationship with Little Women; beyond childhood, she discovered new, complex layers to the novel, and in turn to Alcott’s legacy. “As a girl, my heroine was Jo March, and as a grown lady, my heroine is Louisa May Alcott,” she says. It’s perhaps why Gerwig��s Little Women feels like the most adult — and modern — version of the story that’s reached the screen to date. The movie begins with the March sisters in adulthood — typically where the narrative’s second half begins — and unfolds like a memory play, shifting back and forth between that present-day frame and extended flashbacks to the childhood scenes etched in the American literary canon.

In that, Gerwig finds fascinating, fresh areas of exploration regarding women’s lives: the choices society forces them to make, the beauty and struggles of artistic pursuit, the consequences of rebellion. Jo’s journey as a writer anchors Gerwig’s direction; tempestuous Amy (Florence Pugh) gets more of a spotlight as she matures as a painter (and Laurie’s eventual wife); and Meg is realized with newfound nuance: “We felt it was important to show Meg juggling all her roles — a mother, a wife, a sister — whilst also celebrating her dreams, despite them being different to those of her sisters,” says Watson. But Gerwig doesn’t see herself as reinventing the wheel. “A lot of the lines in the film are taken right from the book,” she explains. “When Amy says, ‘I want to be great or nothing’ — she says that in the book! I don’t think we remember that, but she does say it.” Gerwig also loves one line spoken by the sisters’ mother, Marmee (Laura Dern), also revived in this version: “I’m angry almost every single day.”

Gerwig compiled a “bible” filled with cultural references: to Whistler tableaux of family life, to David Bowie–Jean Seberg hairdos that inspire the look of Jo’s mid-film cut, to Alcott family letters. “I wanted it to be footnote-able,” Gerwig says. “I wanted to point to it and say, ‘This is where this is from.’” She considers Alcott’s text sacred: “I wanted to treat the text as something that could be made fresh by great acting.”

Beyond those charged but less quoted Little Women lines are its famous ones — throw-pillow staples like Jo’s “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” that no adaptation is complete without. The actors rehearsed these “almost like a song,” pushing to move through them with a rapid musicality. “We [read] the book out loud,” says Dern. Gerwig expected the script’s words to be memorized precisely. “I knew I wanted them to get this cadence that felt sparkly and slightly irreverent,” she says. “I wanted to make them move at the speed of light.”

She poured the same love into iconic scenes, like Jo and Laurie’s ebullient dance that follows their first meeting. Here it goes on longer — and more vibrantly — than in any previous iteration. (Ronan says they filmed it at 3 a.m., to boot, adding, “We must have done it, like, 30 times.”) Then there’s the devastating moment when Laurie asks Jo to marry him and she rejects his proposal. Gerwig tasked the two actors to unleash here. “Emotions just bubble over,” Ronan says. “[Greta] just let us go with it, wherever it went, from take to take. What I loved about that scene is that every take would be different emotionally. It didn’t have the same trajectory.

“The two of us, it’s a relationship I have with no other director,” Ronan continues. “She makes me feel like I can try anything.”

As Ronan and Chalamet emerge from their photo-studio dressing area in impossibly chic new ensembles — she donning a form-fitting knit sweater, he a silky, ruffled top — their creative energy fills the space. They try out different poses, debating concepts and ideas with each other on the fly; at one point he wraps his arms around her waist, and she quips to no one in particular, “We’re expecting our first.” Camera snap.

They’re modeling a new brand of movie stardom — pursuing projects with a point of view, adamantly being themselves in the public eye, subverting gender norms. Their androgynous fashion performance here reflects their wardrobe shake-ups in Little Women: Gerwig and Oscar-winning costumer Jacqueline Durran (Anna Karenina) had the two actors swapping clothes throughout filming, to reinforce the masculine-feminine fluidity between Jo and Laurie. “They are two halves,” as Pascal puts it. “These are really bold characters that are really different than you’ve seen them before.”

And just as Gerwig expressed a need to direct Little Women, Ronan knew in her bones she needed to play Jo. She’d first encountered the story via the 1994 film when she was 11, and later read the book, feeling an immediate kinship with the young woman she’d come to portray. “When Louisa describes Jo, it felt like someone describing me physically: sort of gangly and stubborn and very straightforward, and went for what she wanted.” At an event for Lady Bird, she — in a very Jo kind of way — just “went at it” by approaching Gerwig. “I said, ‘So I want to be in Little Women, but only if I’m playing Jo.’” (Chalamet, for his part, was asked by Gerwig, “Hey, want to do another movie?” He responded: “Yes. Yes, please.”)

Over months of living in Concord with her castmates, Ronan discovered new depths within herself: “Jo’s ethos is ‘Everything everyone else is doing, I’m going to do the opposite.’ [I had] to try things that I’d never tried before. Be a bit messier with a performance.” Gerwig set up etiquette lessons for the cast; whatever the instructor said (“Don’t shake hands! Don’t gesticulate with your arms!”), Ronan made sure to ignore it. She speaks now of this as freeing, even transformative. “I felt like I had tapped into something I’d never gotten the opportunity to tap into before, or I just didn’t have the guts to tap into myself,” she says. “Finding that was just amazing.”

Shortly after wrapping Little Women, she filmed Wes Anderson’s next film, The French Dispatch — marking her third time costarring with Chalamet, who plays a central role. As for now? Ronan is taking a little break. “I’ll wait for the right thing to come along,” she says. “It’s lovely to be in a position at this moment where I can wait for the absolute right thing.” Same goes for Chalamet — he shot Netflix’s The King (out Oct. 11) right before Little Women and just completed production on Denis Villeneuve’s Dune adaptation. “It’s the first time in almost two years I’ve gotten a breath, so I’m savoring it.”

It’s been a long day. They’re back in comfy clothes; Ronan is taking a late lunch. It feels like both actors — as another whirlwind of acclaim and press and romance-shipping awaits — are at a kind of peace, exhausted but satisfyingly so. Little Women is the biggest movie either has done to date; more attention, as they inhabit such revered characters, is sure to follow. “I just haven’t thought about it that way,” Ronan admits. “Maybe because it’s just Greta — even though it’s on a much bigger scale, she wanted it to feel like Lady Bird.”

Ronan understands the timeless power of Little Women, of course: “It’s as important to tell Little Women right now as it would be at any point in our lifetime.” She points to this pop culture climate of “celebrating female friendships and sisterhood,” and continues, “It’s a story that’s full of love. That will always be relevant.”

She turns toward Chalamet, and you realize the love they brought to Alcott’s classic is what first blossomed between them on Lady Bird. “I love that in Lady Bird, you broke my heart,” she says to him softly. “In Little Women, I got to break your heart.” (Chalamet, ever the goofball, finds an obvious opening: “Yes, that’s true. Then I married your sister. Ha, ha, ha!”)

If this all sounds a little idyllic, well, neither actor — nor Gerwig, nor Pascal, nor the rest of the cast — can do much to convince you otherwise. Shifting back to Little Women’s timelessness, and reflecting on Ronan’s comments about it, Chalamet says, “I don’t know how to add to that.” Instead he turns back to his costar, his expression suddenly sincere, filled with gratitude. “But if I can add one little dose of information,” he says with a nervous laugh. “And not just because she’s sitting next to me.” He credits Ronan with bringing that “timeless energy.” He says “thank God” they were able to make the movie. “It’s so rare with Saoirse — I’m so f—ing grateful to get to work with her,” he says. “Whatever book I write for myself when I’m older, to look back on —” He stops himself. “Well, this is a bigger conversation.”

But Ronan, chuckling, doesn’t let him off the hook. “Will I have, like, a chapter?” And Chalamet laughs — another opening, another chance to act with his greatest scene partner, to see what journey of creation and discovery they’ll go on next. “A chapter of Saoirse,” he says.

At this rate, one chapter won’t suffice.

#timmy #timothee chalamet #saoirse ronan #little women

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