#(there are definitely shows out there that have built on this kind of theatrical approach too from what i know of hyper rpg et al

[maliro-t]

everything i've heard about the candela live show is solidifying the direct line i've seen since launch from sagas of sundry to where we are now and I'm just so 👐👐 excited about it

[overandundertarot]

Pick a Ghibli Couple; Your fictional crush's first impression of you.

Pile 1

Cards; Knight of Cups, Knight of Swords, Ace of pentacles reversed, Queen of wands reversed, Temperance, King of pentacles.

Well Pile one. Your fictional crush is quite the....frilly, character. They're someone with a flair for the theatrics. They're probably a noble in their fictional universe. They're highly respected and have good social standing, they're quite prone to showing their emotions too. They may be moody or are prone to visible bouts of anger/frustration. They're comfortable with having people's attention and sometimes even demand/prefer it. They could have long flowing hair. Like to wear detailed outfits. Yes, they like to be well put together and they value their taste and often curate whatever they can to fit their style regardless of if they're rich or poor. This fictional world may be historical, if not this person very much focuses on tradition or 'culture' as a way of assesing someones respectability. They love having a good time surrounded by 'good' company no matter if they may be introverted or extroverted. I'm seeing for some people, their fictional crush is quite introverted and nonchalant but best beleive that this is all running through their head! This is supposed to be a reading about their first impression of you, but all that's coming through is them soo. Very proud person, very fixed in their ways. Big ego.

On to their impression of you. At first glance, they dismissed you as someone poor. You're not on the same level with them. No money, no prospects. Upon interacting with you, they'd think that you are a crafty kind of individual, one who's not above getting their hands dirty to reach your goals. It seems that they have a very clear categorisation of people in their heads; people like them, born to the high life and have gold and riches as their birthright and then the unworthies; people born poor who have to struggle to reach their level. Wooow, this person is very classist. It seems that to them no matter how much you may prove to be an amazing person, you're still not worthy in their eyes because you don't have the riches/highbirth. This character may be a contender in a struggle for power type of situation in their world, and recognises you as someone who would use your relations with them to better your own cause. They think you ambitious and balanced, despite all their reservations, they can recognise that you have what it takes. They particularly like your strategic approach, lying in wait, setting the perfect trap without letting anyone else know(damn, pile one!) and coming to collect your gains when the time is right. Later on, once they've come to know you better, they will grudgingly acknowledge you and all that you've managed to build for yourself. This would definitely be a sloooowww burrnnnnn.

Pile 2

Cards; Strength reversed, 9 of pentacles, The Moon reversed, 6 of Pentacles, The Hermit, 4 of Pentacles.

Hello Pile 2!! Your fictional crush is someone with a lot of responsibilty upon their shoulders, but they just want to have fun! They often shirk they're official duties to go out to the city and partake in their idea of fun. They're an easygoing person who appreciates a lot of what life has to offer. They could pay attention to the little things that nobody cares about, like they may have a special interest or a very limited attention span and keep constantly getting excited by things in their environment.

Their first impression of you is that you have nowhere to hide. Whoa! That's quite an assumption to make. Your ficitonal crush definitely thinks that they can see right through you at first glance. You could be a people pleaser, and put so much empahsis on catering to other peoples needs that you lose sight of who you are. You don't have a strong impression of exactly who you are. You feel this changes from time to time. The foundations you built your self concept on keep changing. Your fictional crush would see all of this. More accurately, they would see that this is the way you feel about yourself. They think that you are a withdrawn, intorverted person who holds tight to what they love. They would think that you are afraid of losing the people around you, and think you possessive over your owned items. As they get to know you more, they would think that you are someone with many hopes and dreams. This may sound strange to say, but they like to be inside your head. Thinking like you calms them, they may unconciously seek out your presence for this reason. I think you would become good friends. They could tend to use your feelings for them to their own advantage.

Pile 3

Cards; 10 of wands, 8 of cups, Knight of wands reversed, 7 of pentacles, The Magician reversed, The Emperor reversed, 6 of wands.

Welcome to your reading Pile 3! Your fictional crush is someone who is a hard worker. They've been burdened with purpose, all the while dealing with severe emotional heartbreak and loss. They have been at something for so long, they don't know who they are without it. They definitely give of soldier, leader and right hand man vibes. Dedicated to a cause. They may see themselves more of a tool than a person, or could be in the process of shedding such a mindset. Either way, they're tired and a lot of things are dependant on them; people, activities, institutions. They don't want to let anyone down. They could have a large frame and a blunt haircut.

Their first impression of you is quite shifty. It seems that they wouldn't know what to make of you. On the one hand, they may have information about you on paper, such as what you do, your wealth etc. But this paper impression of you is so different to meeting you in real life for them, its shocking. First of all, they see you as impatient, reckless and lacking the displine and commitment to follow through with your plans/promises. But then they also know that you have proof of your success because of your impressive track record. You may have unorhtodox methods of doing things that don't add up with them. I just heard stubborn old man so this fictional character could be an older person, and they don't understand your younger ways. For example, according to them to get rich you must get a degree build your network and invest a lot of time but you know your way around social media/the modern day interent and could get the same amount of money/influence much faster. They don't undertand that. Yes, they think you're misusing your skills. They'd also think you're a proud person. They think you're a lot to handle, you could also be connected to a certan lineage or something if you were in their universe and broke away so they see you as a bit of rogue. You break away from the structure. As they get to know you more, your different approaches to life would make them uncertain of who they are and what they've been standing for. They'll question things a lot more and will come to appreciate you unique take on things. They'll feel like taking back their initial slightly negative and judegemental impression of you and would try to really get to know you. To see who you truly are.

****

That's all! If you liked this reading please consider rebloging and liking this post. Any feedback you have will also be very appreciated! Have a wonderful time wherever you are, until the next reading...bye!

[jocia92]

… So much of an actor’s craft is figuring out the “I want” of their character, but that’s got to be a little different with Tom since he states that he literally cannot want anything. What challenge or opportunity did that pose for you?

I think he wants to improve. I think he wants to calibrate according to Alma’s needs, wants, and desires. I think he’s very ready to learn and to understand. That was the kind of primary objective: listen, learn, calibrate, improve. That’s almost the track of each scenario. He just gets a little better each time, and the process gets a little faster. But certainly, in the beginning, he’s just delivering this sort of 20 classic chat-up lines that he’s been uploaded with and getting it all wrong. It’s fun to watch the machine learn and chart that progress.

On a practical or philosophical level, how did you approach the process of humanizing a character that’s an algorithm, or did you at all?

It was very much about charting with Maria exactly when we want to see the machine, when we want to see the human. Even playing with that ratio was really interesting and fun. It’s not so much about watching him play the machine, but watching a character try to play the human. Certainly, in the beginning, in some of the not quite so successful human moments, shall we say, we deconstructed what we regarded as the conventional human behavior in that. We looked at a lot of screwball comedies, like Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart, Katharine Hepburn movies. [We were] taking a move or a gesture, breaking that down, and just doing two of the things. It just suddenly looks very odd and wrong, and you’re like, “Oh, this is what a human does in this moment!” But it’s just off. It was really as much about looking at the human.

You’ve mentioned things like The Philadelphia Story as shaping the film and its central relationship. Was that to ground it in reality or further ensconce it in the warped reality of cinema? Grant and Stewart are recognizable to us as people, but things like that mid-Atlantic lilt were entirely manufactured for the screen.

That was a very key point for Maria in referencing Cary Grant. The hair color that we chose for Tom was very much like Cary Grant’s hair color, being a shade darker than is possibly human. And the skin tone being slightly artificial for Tom. You’re right, Cary Grant is often very heightened and mannered sometimes, and it works in the situation in the style of the thing that he’s in. But we quite liked the idea that Tom has been uploaded with some outdated versions of what a romantic lead was supposed to behave like.

It’s striking just how thought-out things had to be down to how Tom responds to dead air space in a conversation. What was the process behind those small moments that can make or break the believability of a character?

It was very fun to play with, and probably quite frustrating for a lot of the human actors. Maren was giving a beautifully naturalistic performance, and the conventional responses that there should be from her scene partner weren’t there. We deliberately strip those away—sometimes without telling her, sometimes without needing to tell her. It’s just the way that Tom was, so it was about pushing those moments into a space that became a little uncomfortable: not jumping in on the lines where you might normally jump in, sometimes coming in hard, sometimes offering a delayed response, sometimes none at all. Playing with those, and watching how comfortable or uncomfortable that made them both, was really fun.

Did that frustration, built in by the process, bleed over for Maren into the character of Alma, do you think?

Maybe for Maren. Certainly, for me, it was frustrating in that I would have to remember not to respond in the way that I might normally and remove some of those things. [I had to] really break down exactly what Tom is thinking, what his programming is doing in that point, how he’s responding and calibrating, and whether we see that or not. Choosing moments to show the human, to show the machine. Along with Maria, that was one of the great joys of the role.

How did you settle on the physicality of the character? Was it at all helpful to have done something like Beauty and the Beast in a mo-cap suit to be hyper-aware of how your own movements translate to the screen?

Very much so. In fact, in pretty much every role I’ve done since Beauty and the Beast, I’ve incorporated not always a movement coach, but I’ve definitely looked at movement theory and physicality in a totally new way because of the challenges of that role. And, I have to say, dance plays a huge part in that. Whether it’s incorporated on the screen or if it’s something that just feels as if it helps the role, I often find that a dance studio is a very fruitful space to discover things about your character’s physicality. Learning the rumba for this role was incredibly helpful because it’s a very precise, technical, almost robotic dance in terms of the laser precision that’s needed to get it absolutely right. I had a fantastically exact teacher in Berlin who was teaching me the rumba the whole way through the shoot. We shot that [one scene] quite near the end of the shoot. Just to have those lessons, that kind of physicality, and that poise with me the whole way through the role was really useful.

How did the role being in a non-native tongue affect the characterization of Tom? Was it all easier to make him seem slightly unreal given that the words might not come quite as naturally as they would in English?

I think it was a deliberate choice on the part of Maria to look for a foreign actor who could speak German. She needed somebody who could both get their heads and their mouths around the very technical German that was required, which, even for a German is pretty complex, but also who had that sense of otherness. I’m sure they could have tailored the screenplay to any number of nationalities, but I was very happy they came to me and made him British. It definitely helped with, as I say, the fact that he’s listening, learning, focusing, trying to improve…that was literally all I was doing last summer, every day.

How do you lock onto the frequency of German comedy, which isn’t always something people associate with that country or people? How is it different than doing something like the more mannered British wit of Blithe Spirit or the broad studio comedy of Eurovision Song Contest?

It’s not a country known for it, but I think they should [be]. I find Germans very funny. They have a very interesting sense of humor. What’s particularly delightful is the way that they can tackle really kind of big, sometimes weighty, issues with a certain wit and lightness of touch, which is not common to all countries. Physical comedy, I think, is fairly universal. I think there’s something almost farcical about some of the physical stuff that we managed to get in this. It was really fun to make people laugh in a foreign language. It was surprisingly delightful. It felt very unifying, somehow, to be able to get a joke across in any language.

[harryswatermelonsegment]

Fire For You

Pairing: Reader/Harry Styles,Harry Styles/Omc x2

Rating : Strong R 100% porn w/o plot tbh

Warnings: *cracks knuckles* orgies,sex parties, anal sex, male oral sex, female oral sex, anal play, sub!dom play, drug use, vaginal penetration, squirting

A/N: Look, never posted fic. And I haven't checked anything 😳 Due to the heavily noted anon prompt fluttering around my dash that read: "My friend went to some weirdo eyes wide shut kind of party in the Hollywood Hills last year and overheard 'yeah you can't use that room, Harry Styles is high as fuck and getting railed by some dudes in there" plus that damn 🍉 video... well, I am at peak feral in quarantine and 3k of smut just popped right out. Title actually the Cannons song cos it's such a sex song innit? I'm doing this at 4.20am after starting this at 11pm my time so..good fucking night. ✌🏻🍉

—--------------------------------------------

You were petrified. 

You'd moved halfway across the world with your best friend after a shitty person broke your heart and your spirits. 

A circumstantial opportunity had arisen to become her PA,after her chance audition for a series had turned into cult viewing overnight.

She was everything you weren't. Confident, effortlessly cool and entirely comfortable in her own skin and sexuality. That's why, as she sauntered away with a tuxedo clad tall stranger, you stood frozen on the spot trying to remember it was okay to watch. 

It had been her idea for you to submit an application after you'd said you needed to take risks and feel good in your skin again. Your best friend had told you you were wasting your youth, after years wasted on the ex you were in this country trying to forget. That you should embrace you were young, hot, single and getting older by the second. So you'd rolled your eyes and submitted your video application. You wouldn't get a reply for such an elite thing. 

And yet, here you now were, in a millionaires mansion watching two men fuck a bunny masked stranger infront of you. She looks up at you through the velveteen eye holes and offers you to join with her finger come hithering you over. Your eyes widen. 

You immediately remember your stiff upper lip and bound up the right hand staircase as fast as your heels will allow. Hoping to find a cool place to catch your breath. 

Maybe you weren't as free spirited as you were in your head. Open to trying things theoretically, but now, as you see a flurry of naked bodies out of your peripheral vision and hear sounds you'd only heard in more private settings, you felt quite overwhelmed. 

You were no virgin but not to say you could count on two hands your conquests past kissing either. 

You came to the one shut door at the end of the long hallway, assuming it was a bathroom. Heels clicking against the pristine marble floor below as you approached. You put your hand to the cold metal handle, if you weren't prepared to see strangers fuck, you certainly weren't prepared for this. 

There were five people in the room. 

Three men on the bed and two women. The first woman sat open thighed across a low backed plush chair. Another on all fours on the floor licking into the others cunt as one guy stuck his fingers into her own folds from behind. He was then, with the rest of his olive skinned built body, sharply thrusting into the man on the bed at such a pace you could hear his balls slap against the sweat glistening flesh. He held his hip nearest to you so tightly, you could see the red marks appear from under his large hands. 

The slender man receiving all this action was being silenced in his pleasure by the guy kneeling up in front of him. He hummed loudly through his nose as his mouth was busy bobbing up and down the guys length. Eyes closed in the orange low light as he was thrust into still, with such force he deep throated the guy he was swallowing down. He suddenly gagged and the man moaned then pulled his head away and nodded to signal if he was okay to continue, he agreed then he got right back down to business. 

It was probably one of the more explicit scenes she'd seen. Making her feel hot and cold all at once. Not because of what was happening, no, it was who it was. 

His face was disguised by a navy blue, high winged, theatrical mask. As were those involved, or some variation at least. 

You heard a voice beside you at the door frame. A deep voice talking to a white bunny beside him

"Nah, that rooms got enough going on, Harry Styles is high as fuck getting railed by two dudes" 

And that's all the confirmation you damn well needed. You'd been in L.A three weeks. Three weeks was all it had taken for you to be stood watching Harry fucking Styles getting Eiffel towered by two guys in the Hollywood Hills whilst you watched, mouth agape in barely any underwear. 

No one had seemed to notice your intrusion, if the screaming of the red head  in the chair reaching her climax was anything to go by. She rode out her high on the blondes face before getting up, lighting a joint and pulling the blonde up by roots. No real concern that she hadn't climaxed from Mr. Powerthrusts fingers yet. Dragging the young white cat back towards the door with a glistening mouth and chin, you were still entranced at the boy on the bed pooling your sheer briefs and the sight before you. 

The redhead looked at you, to where your focus was on, then back to you. Giving one condescending chuckle. Still with the small blonde girls hair in a vice hold she spoke roughly into your ear as she passed. 

"He's soft and ready to go sugar, strike whilst he's still loose" with that, she kisses your cheek and her Loboutins clicked away from you. 

You stood there. Tits up to your chin from the force of the practically sheer black bra you were spilling out of, the suspender belt grasped your hourglass shape perfectly too. There was delicate, black designer underwear framed by the belt and thigh high stockings. You'd felt beyond confident at the beginning of the party. New eyes dragging over you in a way they didn't when you were in your regular get up of jeans and a t shirt. But behind the Japanese type kitsune half mask, you had felt invincible.

Right up until the point people actually started fucking. 

But this, this was different. 

You'd never been into guy on guy action, not even in porn. It didn't ignite any fire inside the pit of your stomach like it should. But seeing someone you'd casually ogled through the media like the other few million in the world had, well the chances of being in this position again were rare. Suddenly, the thrill of being able to possibly turn dream into reality spurred you on. He'd never know it was ever you if you met again right? 

The three of them were still going at it. Powerthruster behind, contorting his face as he placed smack after smack across the pale flesh of Harry's ass. Grabbing a fistful in each hand as he sped up even more to reach his climax, he cried out when he did pulling Harry's hips flush against his own, it was only now, amongst all the activity that you notice Harry's cock for the first time. 

The rumours online highly underestimate it. 

He's long and thick and his drippy head is causing a string of pre cum to trail from its opening onto the white silk sheets below. 

You clamp a hand between your thighs, the first time you feel your inhibitions falter that night. You had to relieve some of the friction your body needs. Watching the man remove himself, and toss the condom in the bin by the door frame you were still fixed to. 

Harry scrambles to the other muscular guy infront of him, kneeling back on his calves, hissing a little as his legs under each cheek spread his already tender hole a bit. He doesn't miss a beat though, the already close to orgasming guy looking down at green doe eyes as he pushes Harry's mouth from him. Harry knows where this is leading and opens his mouth for him spill his seed onto his waiting tongue. 

By this point you'd moved quietly from the door and across the wall so you were in prime position to watch Harry swallow all this man's cum whilst you just stood watching. 

Feeling like a pervert, feeling turned on, feeling fucking everything to be frank. You'd question it later. Right now you needed Harry to touch you. 

One leg kicked up behind you so you could slightly part your thighs and rub your middle finger down your folds beneath your knickers. You began to put on a show. The other hand is inside your bra cupping and squeezing your nipple between your index and forefinger sharply. Panting quietly as you see Harry's eye clock you in his peripheral vision. You're terrified of his reaction for a second before remembering the setting of the evening, but he smirks the best he can do with an open mouth and looks you up and down slowly. His dick twitches in his lap and that's all it takes for you to start rubbing two soaked fingers fast against your clit, your ego inflated that you could be the cause of his heightened arousal. You're going at such a pace on yourself that you almost don't catch the ropes of cum descending into Harry's mouth as he watches you trying to get the release his actions have caused. The guy stills, spent. Harry is still watching you pant faster as you take the hand on your breast away to steady a palm against the wall. He holds the guys cum in his mouth before tearing his eyes away from yours to kneel up and place an opened mouthed kiss onto the guys lips, transferring him back into his own mouth, forcefully. Switching the dominant role back in his favour to show you who was really in control in the room despite how it may have looked. He breaks the kiss, both men chuckle at each other before Harry taps the other guys cheek with his palm playfully. Like his just scored a goal at the Sunday football league, but definitely not like they'd both shared a mouthful of semen. 

Your pace has slowed down slightly but you see him whisper something into the man's ear before he hops off the bed, grabbing only his black briefs and closing the door behind him. But not before saying "have fun" to you with a knowing wink. 

It suddenly feels very intimate. When there were a few more people in the room it felt easier to blend into the festivities, but now you were essentially alone with a stranger who was watching the slow movements of your hands in your underwear. You decided to carry on, to keep up the pretence that this is the sort of thing you do all the time of course. 

It wasn't. 

So when he stands straight up off the bed, taking the few steps towards you, slightly pouting into the air as he keeps his eyes locked on yours and gently grabs your wrist that leads to the hand on your pussy  bringing the two digits that had been furiously rubbing your clit, up to his mouth. He never breaks his gaze as he sucks them fully, with the same technique you'd just seen on that man's dick minutes previous. Closing his eyes and humming approvingly at your sweet taste. 

Your insides are screaming but your present body moans and he drops the hand to grab your waist and pull you tight to his torso. He kisses you hungrily and you taste mostly of yourself and try not to think about the other taste from the strangers cum on your tongue. 

He kisses you like he's getting to know you through this alone, grazing his palms from your waist to your shoulder blades then back down slowly to your ass, gripping it tightly to his body as he hooks a thigh over his hip. His cock is sandwiched between you, droplets of pre cum on both your bellies. The crotch of your underwear is rubbing his length slightly as you rock your hips down onto his. 

His tongue is lapping and swirling languidly against yours, it's unexpected given the setting but, it's fucking glorious. You grab fistfuls of curls at the back of his head between your fingers and once you get to the nape and give a sharp tug on the baby hair there, his breathing hitches. 

"You're quite good at this" he says casually,taking a breath. You pant in response and chuckle slightly. Mostly at the contrast of moods he appears to have. 

"Not s'bad yourself" you smile. 

There's a heartbeat whilst he takes in your accent similar to his own he pulls back, brows furrowed causing his forehead to wrinkle down slightly at the top of the blue mask. This isn't the time to get to know one another though, you get that, and despite your reservations on this place you suddenly don't give a shit. You push your mouth into his neck suckling lightly and finding a sweet spot at his pulse that has him shaking. His nimble pianist fingers undo the flimsy material of your bra as he goes back to the weirdly passionate make out session, you let it fall off your shoulders, shaking it down your arms to the ground. 

He walks you both back to the bed and sits down pulling you to straddle his thighs. You both moan at the reconnection and don't miss a beat rolling your hips over his slowly. Giving him a taste of what's to come. He grunts through his teeth out of frustration, pulling away from you both once more to reach blindly for the fishbowl of condoms, provided by the host, on the nightstand. 

"Fucked anyone else tonight?" he asks matter of factly. 

Your eyes looked shocked, even though they probably shouldn't be. You furiously shake your head. 

"Hm" he chuckles as you lay your hands in your lap submissively, he clearly notices and you see an eyebrow raise over the mask. "that mean you're a good girl?" 

Cottoning on to the game he's starting, and that you're more than willing to take part in, you take one side of your bottom lip between your teeth and nod quickly. 

This is an absolute fantasy. But you're aware you could get interrupted at any moment so you'll take what you can get before being pushed out, and no doubt off, this absolute wet dream of a man. 

He tears the packet open with his fingers, sitting back, a little hunched over to roll the rubber down his length. He hisses at the brief contact after being edged so much the last hour or so. You start to wonder how he's keeping up his stamina before he sits back up, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and interrupts. 

"Gonna be a good girl f'me then love?" he leans forward places wet opened mouth kisses at each of your breasts in between his words, looking you straight in the eye. "Gonna slip those pants to the side and get on me then?" 

No sooner had he spoke, you were grabbing his cock in your palm with one hand, and pulling the crotch of your soaked fabric to one side with the other. You hadn't done this in a fair few months and definitely never taken a cock as big as his, but your arousal was so high that you were desperate for the sweet pain of being stretched around him. You pumped him barely as to not roll up the condom, just grazing him and feeling him twitch in your fist as he watched you briefly stick two fingers into your cunt. The wetness being heard as you opened your mouth and gasped at the sensation. You didn't want to waste anymore time checking you were prepared so you scooted forwards on his lap. Brushing his swollen head against your clit, before tapping it a few time as you sunk down onto his length. It burned so good as you got to about halfway before lifting yourself up and sinking down again further. It took three times of doing that to be completely seated and drowning his cock in your juices as your pelvises locked together. You both took a second to pant out curses against each others necks. 

"Jesusfuck. You're so fuckin' tight. Can you move? Fuck! Please move" he strained into your throat. 

You sat back a bit so you were facing one another and with fingers pulling at those nape hairs you reconnected your mouths before rolling your hips experimentally against his. 

"Oh fuuuuck" you shot out, the feeling of him so deep inside you and him pressing against your clit was other worldly. The friction of the underwear you still had on, gathered between your folds and caused the sweetest friction. He grunted once as your jaw lay slack at the contact, before getting impatient and guiding your hips to slam into him harder as he thrust up at the same time. 

Your head was spinning. 

His strong hands pulled you close to him he smeared your lips together as he flipped you so he was on top, manoeuvring you up the bed and slightly diagonal so his feet didn't dangle off the edge. 

It became a power battle then. You knew he was on the edge and holding back. He pulled a leg to hitch around his waist and thrust into you at speed. Enough to leave you sore tomorrow. You smirked into his mouth, pulling both up further to lock behind his neck, knowing the angle would make it so much tighter and so much easier to reach that sweet spot inside you. With your head thrown back at the new angle he began leaving marks around your neck and breasts, trying so hard not to cum before you. 

Then you had a brilliant, foolproof idea of how to win this game. As he was preoccupied leaving a red mark against your clavicle, you sucked your middle finger into your mouth for your planned attack. Before you could do anymore though, he moved two of his digits against your soaked clit at speed, tapping every now and then and making you writhe and grip the sheets with overstimulation. You held off best you can but he was hitting that spot that few had taken much longer to find before. You knew what was coming but it was too late to warn him. 

Your orgasm took over your body from the middle down to your toes and up until your eyes practically rolled back in your head. You heard the lewd, wet sounds his thrusts were still making and wanting to even things up you made a quick recovery enough to part your mouth and make your middle finger drip with saliva as you gripped his ass to guide him into you. You could tell by his speed he was almost there so you went between his cheeks with your slick finger and suddenly buried it inside him to the hilt. He was still stretched from the previous guy so you sink to the knuckle easily. It only took two movements to feel him spill inside you. Long drawn out moans left his lips like a dirty drawl from his throat. You took out your finger and went slack onto the mattress. 

He was spent but he wasn't done. 

As he pulled out of you carefully, gushes of your cum cascaded down onto the expensive sheets. If he didn't know you were a squirter, he did now. He stared watching it fall from your weepy hole blind removing the condom and tossing it into the bin behind. 

"Holy fuck. I.. I've never managed that before. You're a fucking dream….so fucking sexy. Fuck" he looked at you like a feast. Your saturated underwear stretched out beyond repair now. Laying against your thigh and the material dripping. He pulled the stockings from their clips quickly, not taking them off but so he could peel the knickers from your sticky thighs. You noticed he threw them down near what you assumed to be his tux. 

And that was it, he pushed your thighs up and back to your body so your knees were flush against your chest. You felt some of your cum still seeping out if you and he growled watching the last few drops drip down your bum and onto the bed. 

He dove into you like he'd not eaten in weeks. Lapping every bit of fluid from your pussy, clit, thighs and ass. He licked around your puckered hole as he sink two fingers into your cunt at pace. 

"You got one more in there for me hmm?"

He said huskily, keeping one arm across your thighs as he sat up on his haunches to look down on you falling apart. You nodded frantically, feeling the bubbles in your stomach growing again. You felt the pressure build between your thighs. Completely living in this moment with this beautiful man you got to see so desperate for you to cum. He dived back in to trace figure eights across your clit with the tip of his tongue before laying it flat and going up over it again and again. He alternating the two before you were ready to burst. He felt it on his fingers so he stilled them inside you still lapping at clit but using his whole arm to move at speed up and down to keep pushing at that one ridge inside you. When he felt the first wave of your climax hit he quickly put his face infront of your cunt and let the force of your squirt hit him the face. He caught a good amount in his mouth before repeating the signature move of crawling back up to your face and getting your soft, limp body to open up so he could spit your cum back into your mouth. It was tart but sweet probably due to the pina coladas you'd sipped downstairs to get you loosened up a bit. 

"Good girl. Swallow, show me y've swallowed it all up" he panted kneeling at your side. 

You gulp and meekly open your mouth to prove it was all gone and he smirks and gives you a slow, lazy Sunday kind of kiss that sends its shivers down your spine. You stare at each other as he sweeps your sweet drenched hair from the front of your face. You're not sure what suddenly changed in the room but you've created your own bubble. Your own bubble where a millionaire pop star a Jenner has shagged, whispers praises against the shell of your ear in some sort of awe and kisses your neck and face tenderly. What even is life? 

It's stupid but you don't want to go. Well, it's not stupid as this boy is a hurricane in the sheets and why would you not want more!

But you know the deal. This isn't a date. This is an elite fuck party. A. Fuck. Party. 

The realisation dawns on you like a thorn to the side. You can't just lay here in a post orgasmic comatose state. There's people waiting, people he's waiting on too. He sees your eyes widen and watches in confusion as you take a white robe from the hook behind the door, still in your heels you pick up your bra. You smile briefly before closing the door behind you and practically sprinting to your car. 

Not before seeing the guy Harry had been deepthoating earlier, now standing fully clothed with a headset at the door you'd just come out of with a suit and headset on. Like nothing had ever happened. Of course you weren't interrupted. Of course he had security. You rush back down the staircase before you have a panic attack in plain sight. Your thoughts scrambled beyond what you thought was capable. Did that really just happen? With him? Is this who you are now?

It's only when you get to the end of the street after texting a quick "sorry wasn't my scene, call me when you need picking up" to your mate before leaving that you're suddenly aware you're missing your underwear...

[defensefilms]

Defense Films Lists His Favorite TV Characters Of All Time

5. Chris Partlow- The Wire

The ending of The Wire paints Chris Partlow as something closer to a serial killer. 

He wasn’t. None of his hits were done out of pleasure, curiosity or even impulse. Every one of those bodies helped the Stanfield organization become what they became, even the one on Michael’s stepdad.

What Chris represents is reliability and capability. The ultimate “get shit done” guy. Out of all the characters on the show, none were more dependable or crucial to the success of the institution they served. 

Lester Freeman was capable but not a good politician and ultimately a nuisance to his superiors. Bill Rawls was incredibly capable at his job but he was power hungry and ambitious. In season 5, Gus Haynes is the most capable man in the news office but the problem was that Gus questioned authority and didn’t “go with the flow” when the office decided the paper needed a “refreshing” of how they cover the local news.

Chris didn’t have any of these handicaps impeding the people he served.

He recruits the foot soldiers for the Stanfield crew, even training them himself and Marlo had something akin to a small army at his disposal as a result. He organized his sub-ordinates, handled all surveillance when Marlo’s crew was under investigation at the start of season 5 and took care of incoming shipments after they established a direct line to the Greeks. 

When the task required finesse or subtlety, like the time he stole Sergey’s picture from the court office, he was more than capable of that too. When Marlo is questioning how to address the murder of one of his dealers, he listens to Chris and chooses to retaliate on the perpetrator directly rather than targeting everyone on his corner. 

Marlo truly comes to rely on Chris in matters concerning Omar Little. Every step of how Marlo wants to get back at the near mythical larcenist, is first passed by Chris. Chris takes this as his number one job throughout the show. Anything concerning Omar is handled with brutal efficiency, tact and an almost out ouf place  sense of professional pride. 

That’s Chris’ most endearing quality. Through all the blood, guts, scheming, lying, betrayal that comprises Baltimore’s underworld, all of which Chris is very much a part of, he has a pride in how he approaches the day to day business aspects of what he does. 

Stringer Bell is arguably the best second-in-command in the show’s run but he was dishonest, ultimately harming the survival of the institution he served and damn near going rogue. 

Chris doesn’t share such qualities as blind ambition or selfishness. He understands that trust is all he has in this game. When the indictments eventually come down and Chris is facing a life sentence he doesn’t complain or even raise the possibility of turning state witness. Instead he ends up on the yard along side Wee-Bay. Marlo in turn makes sure that Chris’ people are taken care of financially.

Many of the men that serve in the various institutions depicted in the show could learn a thing from Chris Partlow. When the time came, he fell on his sword and did so in full acknowledgement that this is where it all leads. There’s a kind of honor in that.

4. Tony Soprano- The Sopranos

One of the biggest misconceptions about The Sopranos was that it was a story about a gangster. It wasn’t, or at the very least, that would be an over-simplification of what the story actually contained.

What it was was a story about a man and his family, both biological and criminal. That’s the tie the binds all of the story’s narratives together.

Another way of looking at Tony’s story is one of leadership. Having ousted his Uncle Junior from the seat of power, season 2 and onwards, as far Tony’s criminal life is concerned, focuses on what happens once you get to the top. 

While the show’s creators gave you plenty of grizzly, violent scenes, what leads to those is the story of a man struggling and failing at leadership. 

In every season, Tony has to deal with a problematic figure, employee or subordinate. 

Season 1 was his Uncle and the idea of old fashioned leadership. Then in season 2 it was the ever-acerbic Richie Aprile, representing a generation older than Tony’s, that still feels entitled to something. Seasons 3 and 4 gave us Ralph Cifaretto, the only one among the men I’m mentioning that actually earns his status and then in season 5, it was his cousin Tony Blundetto.

Each of these problems is uniquely stressful for Tony because of how they pull at the threads of both his family and criminal life. With the exception of his Uncle Junior, he kills all of them.

By that metric, Tony is in fact a very poor leader. 

He doesn’t really deal with the Richie Aprile problem because his sister beats him to it. He doesn’t willingly promote Ralph Cifaretto even though Ralph earns it and is the only one among the candidates with any real intellect and business savvy. In both the cases of Christopher Moltisanti and cousin Tony Blundetto, Tony allows favoritism and nepotism to cloud his judgement and ironically both those men die at Tony Soprano’s hands.

This paints a picture of a tyrannical man, slowly devouring everything around him because he’s got to be in control. Worse yet, his need to be in control doesn’t actually lead to smarter long term decisions or better people management.

Tony’s relationship with Ralph in particular is built on professional envy. He feels entitled to Ralph’s race horse winnings because “why should his subordinate benefit more from anything than he does?”. He then proceeds to take ownership of the racehorse itself without assuming any of the costs of owning the animal. Then to top it off, he steals Ralph’s girlfriend purely because he has the status to do it, even digging in to Ralph’s personal life in order to justify doing so.

Textbook mismanagement. Every type of managerial violation you could imagine.

So how does Tony handle it when an employee is actually being a problem on a criminal/business level?

He rewards Tony Blundetto’s deception after the Joey Peeps killing by letting him run an already profitable gambling joint. He promotes Christopher to “made guy” even with his drug problems being well known, and he promotes Bobby Baccalieri, partly at his sister’s behest and partly out of spite.

 It was fun to watch on screen but you’d hate to work for Tony Soprano.

How does that translate to his family? What kind of leader is Tony at home?

Season 3 does well at examining Tony as a father/paternal figure starting with his relationship with Jackie Jr, which is built on concern at first. Then later it starts to make Tony anxious. Before Tony decides to push nature towards taking it’s course, when Jackie runs afoul of men in Tony’s charge.

His relationship with AJ is also a bigger part of the show as the seasons go and it’s not much better in as far as the leadership or guidance that Tony offers. We can waffle on about AJ’s failings as a spoilt teenager but the real problem is that Tony doesn’t see himself in AJ. 

That’s the first step to any failure of leadership. An inability to find common ground or identify with the people you’re leading.

We won’t go in to how hypocritical it is because the entire way that Tony entered the mob life is because he himself was a mob prince and his father’s status definitely paved the way for him. 

Hypocrisy. That’s the other key to failure in leadership. 

All these negatives added up to make the most fascinating television character in over 20 years. A constant stream of contradictions and watching a man say one thing but do another was it’s own experience and you didn’t realize what a horrible human being you were watching until you saw the show over and over again. A scary observation that implies people are either blind or really comfortable with evil and narcissistic behaviour.

3. Noah Solloway- The Affair

Out of all the characters on this list, this one was hurt most by writers hitting a ceiling in how much they could say about the character or how much they wanted to say.  Divorced men don’t really have that much representation, so if you’re writing a character that so strongly linked to that one particular event in his life, you may hit a ceiling if you don’t actually have real life examples to work with.

They had the right actor, the right story and it was the right time in human history to tell this story, it just felt like they didn’t follow through on really speaking on the plight or rise of guys in Noah’s situation.

Anytime I watched The Affair, and unlike most, I was pretty loyal to it despite what reviews told me, I identified with Noah. All those other characters didn’t make sense to me the way Noah did.

The story begins with my man being stuck in a rut, the kind of middle age funk  married men tend to fall in to, so he drives out to visit some folks and while he’s there he happens to meet a baddie. Story of every man’s life. Only he does what you’re not supposed to do and sacrifices everything he has so he can be with the bad-bad. 

Then my mans starts popping off with his book writing, gets a publishing deal and in his 40′s, he starts achieving his highest career peaks. See this is important because it shows that the writers understood the subject matter really well, as well as the demographic they were talking about.

Then the next season, they go in to some murder mystery plot, Noah ends up in jail somehow, almost as if the writers and producers didn’t feel confident that they could tell Noah’s story without the theatrics/murder mystery element. 

The other danger that the writers probably didn’t want to indulge was rewarding the character with any kind of happy ending or positive outcome. Noah’s infidelity serves as the jumping off point to all of the story’s unfolding plots, mostly depicting the impact on the lives of his immediate family, a handful of which play out in sad dramatic fashion. So the writers likely felt like Noah couldn’t win at the end. 

In the 1930′s when gangster films were first being made, they would commonly feature PSA messages at the start warning against criminal behaviour. 1931′s “Little Caesar” starring Edward G Robinson, features a warning at the end that makes it clear the film’s producers and writers needed the character to go down in flames at the end, to prove the moral point that “crime doesn’t pay”. 

A writer’s moral obligation and the times in which they live can lead some to write the ending that makes a moral point rather than writing the most dramatic or honest ending. I think Noah Solloway kind of suffered from this.

I don’t know. 

There was a chance to explore modern men in a way that most stories fail to. They had the foundation. They knew enough about who and what they’re talking about. However it didn’t manifest in the telling of the story. 

I’m not saying Noah needed a positive ending, it’s just that the one we got was not the most fitting nor did it wind up ending the story honestly or even dramatically.

Noah Solloway should have got the Tony Soprano treatment in as far as how much the writers explored his inner world but instead the show’s creators decided it didn’t matter. They didn’t answer the question of why this happens to modern men.

If nothing else Noah Solloway can be a blueprint or foundation for those telling this story in the future.

 2. Ciro Di Marizio- Gomorrah

About as slimy and as low down as a television character can possibly be. Ciro represents Machiavellian criminality pushed to it’s extremes. 

When writers plot a character’s trajectory, they often fill it with moments that make the character more endearing. Exploring the relationship the character may have with a child, friend or spouse that makes you see the character’s more genuine/compassionate/likeable side. The writers of Gomorrah did plenty of that with Ciro.

However, they didn’t hesitate to show you just how off-the-rails and downright evil Ciro could be. 

What’s funny is that Ciro is defined by loyalty and servitude when the story begins. He is a capable captain and rises to 2nd in command when the Savastano family needs him to. However the death of his close friend and mentor changes him for the worse and he goes ham. 

What follows is betrayal and Ciro basically masterminding a coup of the Savastano clan but the levels of paranoia that his new found power push him to, make him question whether it was all worth it. The world burns around him and a kind of justice is restored when Gennaro is able to take back power and restore the Savastano name. 

That’s one aspect of the show that Ciro truly exemplifies in that he rises to the top but the throne never truly feels like it’s his.

He is Iago-like in his ability to understand the weaknesses of people around him. He proves himself more cunning, capable, strategic, murderous and even business-minded than almost every other character. Every character except for Pietro Savastano (the man he betrays) and Gennaro Savastano. 

The show goes to great lengths to put forth the idea that crime families in Naples are on the same level as the pope. True modern day monarchies. Royal families that have the power to benefit or harm anyone around them. People bow their heads to them when they walk in public and use reverential terms when addressing them. They will often have salons, jewelers  or restaurants cleared out so they can enjoy the establishment in ostentatious privacy. 

When you look at it like that, Ciro was always an outsider. The difference between just sitting on the throne and being born of the throne. 

In that way maybe Ciro’s story is about redemption. 

He eventually sides with Gennaro Savastano again, helping him get his wife and daughter back after they’re kidnapped. He does this by essentially lying to/duping a crew of young dealers from Florence to fund this hostage rescue and then he offers himself as a sacrifice when the Florentines demand blood.

At his best Ciro served the clan and went to great lengths to restore what he had destroyed. 

1. Marlo Stanfield- The Wire

Is there any greater?

Sure there are characters like Tony Soprano whose world and whose inner thoughts the audience gets more familiar and intimate with. Within the same shared universe as Marlo is a character like Stringer Bell and the writers of the Wire go to great lengths to understand and convey his moral conflict as a drug kingpin turned wannabe real estate tycoon. 

Marlo is something purer though. 

You don’t need to know his inner-most thoughts like Tony because his utmost desire is simple, he wants to be the top kingpin of Baltimore. What more do you want?

He does not share Stringer’s moral complexity because unlike Stringer he is not conflicted at all. He’s not a drug dealer playing businessman, he’s just a drug dealer and that’s all he ever wanted to be.

From the start of season 3, it was fascinating watching this man move about on the screen with a confidence reserved for the richest and most talented. Indeed Marlo proves he has both in bundles. 

He outwits the older drug kingpin in Stringer Bell by maintaining independence from the Co-Op. He matches Avon Barksdale’s war effort step-for-step after Avon comes home from prison. He outsmarts the wily, Proposition Joe in order to learn how to launder his money and then get access to the Greeks.

It was fascinating watching Marlo avoid pitfalls, monopolize Baltimore, out-think his older counterparts and grow his empire to the scope that he did. 

There’s a youtube video that compiled all of Marlo’s scenes from his 3 seasons on The Wire and it pretty much plays like a feature film. Watch it here if you dig Marlo as much as I do.

You’re not watching a drug dealer become a kingpin, or at the very least that’s what I believe. It has more to do with watching the younger generation upset the order, and in a lot of ways that’s what Marlo represents. From the moment Marlo shows up, all old agreements are null and void. He does this over and over again throughout his story. Constantly upsetting the order and establishing his own. 

Indeed Marlo isn’t aware that this is what he’s doing. He’s acting on ambition, arrogance and naivety. 

It speaks volumes that most of the characters on this list have on-screen relationships that explore their personalities, like the aforementioned Ciro’s relationship with his daughter. Marlo has none of that.

Marlo’s most revealing relationship is his rivalry with Omar Little, a man he only ever encounters once. The continuation of their feud happens because Marlo refuses to let any perceived slight towards him slide. One way of looking at what this shows is that Marlo is both egoist and perfectionist, the latter of which is actually very prized personality traits in today’s business environment. The combination of the two is actually commonly seen among CEO’s and top executives.

Marlo shows every weakness and drawback of youth while exposing the follies of the more seasoned and experienced in his field. A walking contradiction in that way.

[seblos]

there's not a star in heaven that we can't reach - ch 8/10

chapter title: this is the tech rehearsal, and i'm your choreographer

word count: 5,035

[one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine (coming soon)]

read on ao3

“Carlos? Are you awake, mijo?”

Carlos very much wasn’t awake. What high school student genuinely is fully awake on a Monday morning, especially the day after break. If his mom is calling for him though, that could only mean one thing.

He’s late.

“Yes, mamá, I’m up!” he calls back, frantically rolling out of bed. Thankfully, he chooses his outfit the night before so he knows exactly what he’s grabbing in the morning. He zips his backpack, grabs his phone, and does a quick brush through of his hair without looking in the mirror. He probably doesn’t look the best, but half the school most likely won’t even show up, and it’s tech rehearsal today which means no matter how hard he tries he’s gonna be a mess anyway.

“Someone is waiting for you downstairs,” his mom calls up to him again, and he stops in his path. That’s unusual…he usually takes the bus alone in the morning. Who could possibly be waiting for him?

For the first time all morning, Carlos glances at his phone. It’s only 7:00 am; his alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. Which, he imagines, can only mean one person is at the door.

Memories of the weekend flood through his mind as he walks down the stairs, suddenly a lot more awake than he was a moment ago despite being woken up before his alarm. Just as he expected, Seb- his boyfriend, is standing in their living room in front of the door, wearing a knit rainbow winter hat with tassels and a fluffy suede jacket on top of red flannel. It’s the most Seb he’s ever looked, and Carlos practically melts.

“Hi,” Seb breathes, smiling. He goes to hug Carlos before glancing at his mom in the other room. “Does she know?” he asks, voice dropping so she won’t hear.

Carlos shakes his head but squeezes his boyfriend’s hand quickly before his mom can see. “Why are you here?” he asks, though, obviously, he’s not complaining.

“Georgie had to go in early for some club meeting. Usually, I just go with her and stay in the library until school starts, but then I thought I might as well come here and, uh, surprise you,” he says, still smiling at Carlos. “If, uh, that’s okay.”

Carlos squeezes his hand again. “Please. As long as you’re okay with taking the bus.”

He calls goodbye to his mom, reminding her that he’ll be home late because of tech rehearsal before they’re out the door.

The moment the two are out of sight from his house, Carlos takes Seb’s hand before he can second guess himself. His boyfriend (!!! he is never going to get used to that) just smiles again. One of these days, Carlos will tell his mom and then he can do whatever with Seb in the comfort of his own home, but for now, he’ll take their not-so-secret hand-holding.

“This is kind of exciting for me,” Seb admits, laughing softly as they approach his deserted bus stop. “I’ve never taken the bus before!”

“Well, it loses its shine after about the second ride, but I’m excited that you're excited,” Carlos smiles back at him.

A few more people arrive before the bus pulls up. His stop is the last one before the school, so by the time they enter, most of the seats have already been filled. Luckily, there's an empty seat right in the front behind the driver, which Carlos gratefully takes, Seb in tow. Nobody takes a second glance at their conjoined hands.

“So,” Carlos says as the bus begins to trundle down the road towards the school. “How was the rest of your break?” He basically already knows, considering they text just about every day, but it’s still nice to hear Seb talk.

“It was alright, catching up on homework for Mazzara’s class,” (they both rolled their eyes) “and just hanging out with my family. Josie and Cohyn are home from college, which made the house extra chaotic, but it was worth it.”

Carlos smiles at the mention of the older Matthew-Smith siblings. He still has yet to meet any of them besides Georgie and the occasional glance of one of the younger siblings the few times he’s been to Seb’s house. He’s sure it’s only a matter of time before he gets introduced to the rest of them.

The mention of his older siblings reminds Carlos of the night on Ashlyn’s porch, and how Seb has said that Georgie called their relationship months back.

“Did you, um,” he laughs. “Did you talk to Georgie?”

Seb’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah! She freaked, of course, but, like, in the best way.”

Carlos laughs again. “Should I be afraid?”

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re her favorite, actually,” he laughs as well, and part of Carlos is soaring knowing that.

“Gotcha, so you should be the one who’s afraid.”

Seb shrugs. “I mean, can’t blame her. You’re pretty incredible.”

Carlos can feel his face flushing. He’s hoping he can just blame it on the cold weather before realizing that Seb is blushing as well like he’s looking for the okay that he just said that. So, Carlos gives it to him.

“I don’t know. I think you’re the incredible one.”

Seb ducks his head, not knowing what to say next, but his face still bright red. He opts to just squeeze Carlos’s hand.

Most of the ride passes in silence, Carlos still half waking up and Seb just looking out the window, occasionally glancing over at him or their hands like he’s getting to remind himself that he’s dating Carlos.

It doesn’t feel any different being in a relationship. They’re still them, still the choreographer and the rehearsal pianist, the two boys who danced at Homecoming together. Seb is still one of his closest friends; he supposes dating him doesn’t change any of that except now he gets to brag that his best friend is also his boyfriend. He supposes that’s why they are dating.

Seb is one of the only people to break down the walls Carlos has built up, and while his heart is racing at the thought of it all, for once in his life he isn’t scared.

They have to let go of each other’s hands by the time they get to the school, gathering their backpacks and filing out the cramped space of the bus alley, but as soon as they’re walking into the school, Seb grabs his hand again.

“This okay?” he asks quietly, and Carlos doesn’t know how he’s supposed to make it through the day without holding Seb’s hand.

“You don’t have to ask.”

They walk down the hall together, which is a little nerve-wracking considering they’ve only ever held hands at school when it was after hours, but nobody gives them a second glance. Anyone who stares for a moment just moves on, either not caring or not surprised.

“Do you need to go to your locker?” Carlos asks him. Theirs are relatively near each other, much thanks to alphabetical last name sorting.

“Uh, yeah, I wanted to put my Chemistry textbook before-” he’s cut off as Lou and Addie rush past them, headed towards the auditorium with Ashlyn hot on their heels.

Carlos reaches out and grabs her arm before she can get too far. “Hey, Ash, where are you guys headed?”

Her face drops. “You haven’t heard yet?”

“No…?” he says slowly, glancing at Seb who just shrugs.

“You guys are gonna wanna come see this.”

He and Seb glance at each other again, before following Ashlyn down the hallway.

A million scenarios are running through Carlos’s head as he approaches the auditorium, none of which are positive after hearing Ash’s tone. Was someone hurt? Was the stage okay? The set? The lights? The costumes? Will they still be able to do the show?

What he saw when they reached the back doors so much worse than he could have ever expected.

Water is dripping from the ceiling, falling on burned and crumbled set pieces and costumes. Anything that survived was covered in plastic and almost definitely waterlogged, including the stage. Carlos feels his heart sink the moment he realized even if they cleared the damaged set pieces, the stage was too far gone to perform on.

His fear is confirmed as one of the firefighters informs Miss Jenn that the show, in fact, cannot go on with the stage in this condition.

“The fire ripped through half your costumes and the sprinklers ruined a bunch of your sets,” she tells Miss Jenn. “I’m going to have to red tag the entire backstage area for a month at least.”

There are gasps and sad shuffles behind Carlos as everyone groups up, seeking comfort within the tragedy. Next to him, Seb presses into Carlos, immediately lacing their hands as he blinks back tears.

Behind them, Kourtney lets out a choked “Did she say costumes?” and god, Carlos’s heart hurts.

“Okay, listen up,” Miss Jenn turns to them, and even though Carlos can’t imagine what she possibly can say during this moment, every head turns to listen. “Hug your neighbor, take a moment, and let’s all reconvene in the cafeteria after school to talk about our options. Ricky and Nini, spread the word.”

Nini nods. “Got it.”

“Ricky?”

“Sorry. After school in the cafeteria, got it,” he nods as well.

It’s sort of a concluding moment as everyone realizes they unfortunately still do have to go to class in a few minutes, and the cast and crew slowly begin to trickle out of the theater. Carlos lets go of Seb for a moment to murmur goodbye to Ashlyn, promising to talk to her in History. When he turns back around, Seb is lingering, staring at the stage but his mind is obviously elsewhere.

“Is it dumb,” he says sadly when Carlos approaches again, “that I’m glad the ladder survived?”

His head drops down to Carlos’s shoulder, and Carlos’s body just rakes with despair. His biggest project in shreds, the person he cared about most close to tears… he wonders if, with all the good leading up to this moment, this kind of disaster was bound to happen.

Life never wants to be easy.

—

Carlos doesn’t see Seb again until lunch with him during their fifth period. By that point, the two of them lightened up a bit after getting lost in the waves of Sophomore year schoolwork still circling around them, unrelenting despite theatrical tragedy. Still, the knowledge of their burned theater sat heavily on everyone’s shoulders, and their lunch table was quieter than normal.

“This school seriously needs to work on their vegetarian options,” Seb murmurs, stirring his soup. “I can die happy the day society realizes that not all of us are in love with tofu.”

Carlos lets out a breathy laugh and Natalie leans over to pat him on the shoulder sympathetically. Their cafeteria’s interesting taste in alternate food choices is a conversation they have at least twice a week ever since Carlos joined the table.

He could tell Seb was doing his best to hide it and instead try and cheer everyone else up. He had noticed, at some point, that the other boy always put others in front of his own emotions, making sure they were okay before he was. It was endearing to see how badly he cared, but Carlos knew what hurt looked like on the other boy, knew that he had to be there for him even if he didn’t have the words to make everything okay.

“There’s more to vegetarianism than soup and salads,” Seo thoughtfully reminds them. It’s something Carlos has heard many times before but can never get tired of his boyfriend’s voice.

He results in simply leaning into Seb’s side, ignoring Natalie’s eye-roll towards the two of them, and savors the moment in his day when everything isn’t totally terrible.

—

Carlos does a lot of hugging today. He thinks the entire cast does, to be honest. There isn’t a moment where they see each other and don’t seek comfort, mourning all of the hard work and the potential loss of their show. It’s probably overdramatic to all of the non-theatre kids, but Carlos is too tired to care at this point.

He finds himself hugging Nini and Seb in a sort of prayer-style formation in the cafeteria after school as they wait for Miss Jenn. Even while he and Nini never were quite the best of friends (especially after the “forest of boys” incident) it was nice that they were still able to find some sort of solace in each other.

They break apart from each other, Nini squeezing his shoulder, just as Miss Jenn walks in.

“Okay, guys,” she claps, then pauses. “Wait, where’s Gina?”

Hesitant glances are spared at each other around the room as everyone settles on top and around the cafeteria tables, recalling the phone call they overheard at Ashlyn’s Thanksgiving party.

Ashlyn herself was the one to speak up after a moment. “I think she’s going through a family thing right now.”

Luckily, Miss Jenn brushes it off. “Ok, prayers to our Gina. I’m... really not sure what to say. You've all worked so hard. I’ve seen all of you grow so much,” she pauses, and Carlos feels himself holding his breath as if she’s about to spout a miracle.

Unfortunately, it’s never that easy. “But if we don’t have a theater, we don’t have a show.”

Immediately, a chorus of “what?” and disgruntled murmurs pass around the room as everyone contemplates what that means for the fate of the show. Carlos feels himself turn, letting his hand drop onto Seb’s thigh reassuringly as he looks between EJ and his boyfriend’s concerned expressions.

Carlos turns again, this time to face the drama teacher. “Miss Jenn, we’ve gotta do something,” he pleads.

“I think we… I don’t know. I guess we could consider other venues?” Concerned chatter turns curious as everyone begins to try and brainstorm ideas for where they could possibly move their show on such short timing and essentially no budget.

“Oh, what about the old Kingston downtown?” Ashlyn offers.

Miss Jenn winces. “It’s condemned.”

“The Lucky Ducky Puppet Pavillion?”

“It’s a massive Starbucks now.”

Inspiration hits Carlos like one last glowing star. “How about the El Rey?”

Pride swells in his chest as people point at him excitedly, quickly agreeing to the one possible theater they could actually pull off moving their show to. (Granted, nothing has been performed there in years, but a theater is a theater, right? )

Unfortunately, Miss Jenn is not as thrilled. “Any other ideas?” Carlos pauses from where he’s looking over Seb’s arm at his Google search of the theater, brow furrowing at her tone. “Miss Jenn, I feel like you just had a really weird reaction to what I just said.”

Typically, being blunt with their director is the only way he can get any comprehensible feedback from her.

“Sorry, what did you say?” she replies, eyes wide and uncharacteristically emotionless.

“Carlos was asking if we could try and use the El Rey theater,” Nini supplies for her.

“My Uncle Reuben is the listing agent, and the last thing they had there was a fashion show like, four years ago,” Carlos continues, before walking behind Miss Jenn as he excitedly dials a familiar number.

“Woah, this place has 500 seats!” He hears Seb exclaim, followed by Miss Jenn talking. Carlos isn’t able to concentrate on what she’s saying before the other line picks up, and his uncle greets him.

“Tío Rubén, ¿podemos usar el teatro para nuestro espectáculo?” Carlos asks, mustering up the best Spanish he can.

The response thankfully is a very excited “¡si, si, si!”

“Sounded like a ‘yes’ to me!” Ashlyn raises excitedly, mirroring Carlos’s arms out wide. Everyone around them cheers, and even Miss Jenn seems to brush aside whatever her deal is, accepting defeat.

“The El Rey theater it is!” she announces.

Carlos grins. “Miss Jenn, aren’t you excited?”

“Yes… I am that feeling,” she says quickly, then spins back around to face the rest of the cast and crew. “Wildcats, let's grab all the props and costumes that didn’t get damaged, and let’s loadout!”

It’s obvious she isn’t as excited as everyone else, but Carlos brushes it off in favor of celebrating their not-cancelled show. They’ll deal with Miss Jenn’s problem with the El Rey when they inevitably come to it.

Nini and Kourtney gather all the other juniors and seniors who have their driver's license, making plans with Carlos for transport straight to the other theater. They come up with a plan, car arrangements and all, and head into action.

Before Carlos can get too caught up with the crowd, he finds himself quickly pulled into yet another hug from Seb.

“My boyfriend is a genius,” he says once they pull apart, quiet enough that only the two of them hear. (Not that they’re specifically trying to hide it from anyone at this point, but it’s nice to have moments just shared between the two of them.)

Carlos immediately blushes at the words, not at all used to Seb referring to him as his boyfriend. He ducks his head, biting back the flushed grin threatening to cross his face. “I’m not really. There are only so many theaters in Salt Lake City. It’s just kind of luck, honestly, that my uncle is the listing agent.”

“Still, you scored us an actual theater with, like, lights and sound and an actual stage and audience chairs,” Seb reminds him. “I was fully prepared to suggest my barn, but I was really hoping we wouldn’t get that far.”

Carlos laughs. “The cows could have been part of the audience.”

“Yeah, of course. I’m sure they would totally no t be disruptive or anything,” Seb rolls his eyes, sarcasm heavy in his voice even with the smile adorned on his lips. His eyes drop again, though, as he steps a little closer to Carlos.

“Seriously, though. This has been the best three months of my life, so… Thank you for bringing back the show. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without it, besides lose all my confidence.”

Carlos smiles gently, heart just filled with so much happiness and love compared to before.

“The show won’t end no matter what, I swear. We could probably do it in the gym, everything considered,” he laughs lightly, trying to reassure the other boy. “Besides. The show doesn’t give you confidence. That’s all you, honey.”

(The pet name kind of slips out just like it did at the Thanksgiving party, and Carlos panics for a moment before remembering he’s allowed to do that now. Not to mention Seb’s reaction is just as cute.)

“Yeah,” he nods, then pulls Carlos into one more quick hug before tugging him towards the bomb shelter. “Come on, we have a tech rehearsal to attend.”

—

The transition from East High to the El Rey was surprisingly seamless. In fact, everything about their tech rehearsal was smooth sailing for the most part, minus the absent stage manager and the old tech. It was still a theater, though, and everything leading up so far after the news of the fire, leaving Carlos at least a little bit hopeful for the fate of the show even with the change in location.

Which is why he should have expected it when things got weird.

Carlos was not unfamiliar with subbing in for roles. Typically, if Ricky or Nini was absent for a rehearsal, Gina and EJ would step in like the dutiful understudies they were, leaving an ensemble member or himself to read for their missing roles depending on who was there. More than a few times Carlos ended up reading Ryan’s line outside of private rehearsals with Seb, same with some of the other background boys, even Chad once or twice.

Needless to say, although he wasn’t necessarily the most specialized in acting or singing like some of the members of the cast were, it didn’t mean he couldn’t. It just so happened that out of the three things that make someone a triple threat, he preferred dancing the most out of them.

So when Miss Jenn calls him up to read for Gabriella, he’s unbothered. It wasn’t like he was afraid to act in front of the cast and crew. It wasn’t even acting, anyway. It was just a staged reading for blocking lighting.

At least, that’s what he had assumed.

Carlos knows, realistically, after the incident with EJ in the hallway and Miss Jenn’s director's file that the older boy would have been curious about its contents. Part of him was just hoping that EJ had enough dignity and confidence left to not actually look through the box.

Once EJ started talking, Carlos knew that wasn’t the case.

“Look… I never thought about singing, that’s for sure. Until you,” EJ responds to the cue he gives, more emotional than any high school performance ever needed to be. He never had a problem with overreacting; Carlos immediately knows what EJ had done.

“And now, I don’t want to stop. Ever.”

The more he continued, the lower Carlos’s eyebrows went down his forehead, until he’s tilting his head towards Miss Jenn inquisitively just to make sure he’s not the only one noticing something off.

Miss Jenn mirrors his expression. “That’s excellent… and a little weird,” she tells them, before giving Big Red lighting directions as Carlos turns back towards EJ.

“What is happening right now?” he gestures vaguely into the space between them.

“I’m just emoting, Carlos. Feel free to join me.”

Okay, yeah. He definitely read the file.

“This is the tech rehearsal, and I’m your choreographer,” Carlos reminds him, hoping to give EJ a reality check. Unfortunately, he seems unaffected as Miss Jenn asks them to run the scene again.

Apparently, EJ takes Miss Jenn’s reaction to “emote” even more, to the point where he thinks EJ might actually be crying.

“I never thought about singing, that’s for sure. Until you,” he leans closer, and Carlos leans farther. “And now, I don’t want to stop. Ever.”

The moment EJ reaches out to him, cupping Carlos’s cheek, his fight or flight kicks in. It feels like he’s staring into Carlos’s soul, fake tears rimming in his eyes. (If he wasn’t so incredibly confused, he would have maybe joked about it feeling like a hate crime.) Even as leans back so far it feels like his neck has disappeared into his collar, EJ doesn’t let up. When Miss Jenn finally calls EJ’s name, it feels like he’s going to be the one to cry now.

Their director gestures for him to come over.

“Are you sick?”

The pieces finally fully click in Carlos’s head. “Wait, I know what’s going on here-”

Before he can finish his sentence, a ladder falls over scarily close to him, and everyone flinches as they did earlier with the sandbag at the beginning of rehearsal, and Carlos realizes that maybe everything isn’t going as well as he originally hoped.

—

Carlos doesn’t talk to EJ later, not until Miss Jenn has a full breakdown after the mic check with Kourtney. Ashlyn is sent to talk to her while the rest of them chill out in the hallway.

He finds EJ on the floor with a box of popcorn in his hand that has to be incredibly stale and decides he may as well confront him.

“You looked in the audition files, didn’t you?” he approaches EJ, not even giving the bo a chance to finish the handful of popcorn.

All he gets in response is a muttered “Oh boy.”

Carlos sighs at his confirmed suspicion. “I tried to warn you, those were for Miss Jenn’s eyes only.”

“Not a problem,” EJ stands up. “Because apparently, I don’t have emotions.”

“Sometimes you do have a way of performing that doesn’t exactly feel authentic,” Carlos says as gently as possible the moment he hears EJ’s voice break a little bit. Feeling like you have too many emotions is one thing he’s dealt with more than a couple times; he can’t imagine what it must feel like to be that way and have everyone assume you don’t care at all because you don’t express them the way others do.

EJ wasn’t having it though. “Then what was I just doing on stage?”

“That felt more like an allergic reaction.”

“And what’s authentic to you, Carlos? A forest full of human beings?”

The words cut like ice, worming their way under his skin and confirming his biggest fear that y es, his castmates still think about that and they all think he’s stupid, that his ideas are stupid, even this whole El Rey idea was probably stupid too.

Carlos chooses to ignore the voices in his head. “That concept may need a little bit of time.”

“And so do I.”

The popcorn box is being pushed into his chest as EJ walks off, leaving Carlos wondering how everything could have possibly gone so wrong.

He debates looking for Seb, but he was caught up in conversation with Kourtney. Ashlyn was MIA, and Big Red had come around once to ask for his pizza preference but promptly left as soon as he got it, leaving Carlos on his own with the definitely stale popcorn that he was shoveling into his mouth just to do something with his hands.

Which is why it surprises him when EJ comes back a little bit later.

“Hey, um, it’s been a long time, should we go ask what’s going on?” EJ says slowly, like Carlos is the last person he wants to ask but the first person with all the answers about Miss Jenn.

Unfortunately, it seems more and more these days Carlos never has answers about Miss Jenn.

“She’s having a moment,” he says, unwilling to leave his spot from the floor. “Maybe you can go and ask her.”

“I don’t want to freak her out more with my lifeless eyes.”

Carlos snorts but doesn’t speak.

EJ takes it as his cue to leave. “Anyway, it’s…” he trails off, shaking his head as he goes to walk off, but Carlos jumps up quickly.

“You were right, by the way,” the words tumble out faster than he can stop them, letting out all the frustration and guilt he had been contemplating over the last half hour. “Forest of boys was a mess and coming here was a huge mistake. I have no business taking charge of anything.”

To his surprise, EJ steps closer. “No, you stepped up, dude. You always do. If I’m being honest, it’s…”

“Stupid?” Carlos supplies.

“Admirable.”

It’s not what Carlos is expecting to come from him, and the shock from it makes him stutter for a moment, tilting his back like he’s waiting for EJ to take it back.

“EJ, was… that a compliment?”

“Don’t make me start emoting,” he shakes his head, wincing like he can’t believe himself, but the words stay put.

Carlos just laughs. “Okay. Well, the words were a four but the sentiment was a solid ten.”

EJ laughs, followed by an awkward pause. “I’m gonna walk away now.”

He does, and Carlos stands there for a second trying to process what the heck just happened. His chest is just as tight as it was before, but the tension has left his shoulders a bit and everything feels a little bit less painful.

Just as he sits down once more, another person comes bounding over and drops right next to him. Carlos almost wishes they didn’t, until he realizes who it was

“Tough day?”

“The toughest,” Carlos sighs, and it makes Seb smile a bit as he drops his head down onto Carlos’s shoulder.

“What was EJ talking to you about?”

“Show stuff,” Carlos nearly shrugs, before remembering the weight of the other boy’s head on his shoulder. He gestures vaguely with his opposite hand instead. “Found some stuff out about his audition from Miss Jenn’s show file-”

“-Which is why he was acting weird, gotcha,” Seb finishes for him.

Carlos laughs quietly. “You jealous?”

Seb doesn't answer at first, instead picking up Carlos’s hand where it’s left at his side and traces patterns along his fingertips. Carlos takes it as a cue to keep teasing him.

“I mean, you have to admit, he is attractive,” he nudges. It gets Seb’s attention enough to lift his head off of Carlos’s shoulder, glaring at him with daggers made of cotton candy.

Carlos holds his hands up in defense. “Joking, joking!” he promises, laughing again. “I’m interested in someone else right now.”

Seb hums, laying back down on Carlos’s shoulder. “Who’s that?”

He doesn’t answer, just lacing their fingers together again. “What were you talking to Kourtney about before?”

“Show stuff,” Seb echoes from before, and Carlos rolls his eyes. “I just asked her if she was planning to quit makeup crew and join the show.”

“What’d she say.”

“That she’s not planning on quitting costumes and makeup anytime soon, but she’d be interested in branching out, essentially.”

Carlos hesitates. “Are you jealous of her?”

“Who, Kourtney?”

Carlos nods.

Seb sighs, unlacing their fingers so he can trace Carlos’s hand again. (He’s found it to be calming for Seb, either when he’s tired or nervous. Or both.)

“I’m not jealous. Maybe a little scared, just because I’m sure we have similar dream roles, but it just means competition I wouldn’t mind losing to. I would love to see her perform, you know?” he squeezes Carlos’s hand gently. “Same with you.”

“What about me?” he asks.

“Doing the show. You’re obviously a good dancer, and a good singer, and a good actor. You could easily play a lead,” Seb informs him.

Carlos chews on his lip. “Dunno. I’ve thought about it, but I’m not sure being on stage is my thing.”

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” Seb grins, leaning his head up so he can see Carlos. “I could be your Gabriella.”

“Oh, baby,” Carlos laughs, letting their conjoined hands fall onto his thigh. “I think you already are.”

—

[animatedminds]

Scoob! Review

Apologies: I watched the movie  two weeks ago, but forgot to write this because I was so busy doing the Dragonball FighterZ thing. But, with that out of the way...

An interesting ride. As a longtime Scooby Doo fan, it was pretty much a given that I would watch this installment by the Warner Animation Group as soon as possible, and I had a pretty good time - albeit with some issue. It’s a fun Scooby adventure, mostly focusing on Scooby and Shaggy, as they go on a new kind of adventure. It’s full of fun references, super charmingly animated action scenes, and lots of humor that actually nails the characters’ goofball antics without diminishing them as the butt of the joke - which is something the previous theatrical series was hit or miss about - which which is also hampered by the fact that it doesn’t really give itself enough time or space to really make any of those things shine.

Spoilers, but only a couple.

The first thing we ever heard about this movie years ago was that it was conceived as a dramatic retool of Scooby Doo into a out-and-out spy series, in order to set up a Hanna Barbera cinematic universe a la the MCU (which, given that they already had a shared universe they could adapt in Future Quest, hit a little hard), giving the impression that Scooby was going to be a pastiche of James Bond. It’s very obvious from the finished product that this concept was since heavily changed, but you still see it in the film. The gang is still the same-old gang - a bunch of kooky teen mystery solvers - but plotwise it’s very much “what if instead of solving a mystery, the gang just fought a supervillain?” Which, let’s be clear, is not unheard of for the franchise: see Scooby Doo and the Cyber Chase for another story that’s mostly just “fight a cool bad guy, with a tacked on mystery,” or the other Shaggy and Scooby-centric stuff like Ghoul School or Reluctant Werewolf for other movies that just plain eschew their usual setting entirely - this is a lot like those. It’s centered around the two characters’ relationship, like pretty much every theatrical Scooby release it seems, as this new challenge almost breaks their union, and the group as usual does very well in that kind of action. Faced with an army of dimwitted robots that can go from silly to terrifying multiple times in the same scene, Scoob and Shag’s typical mix of silly bumbling with surprisingly - and destructively - clever antics make for some great scenes, my favorite being a madcap chase through an amusement park that ends with them getting away on a ferris wheel that’s been knocked of its hinges.

This is very much a movie that wants to be a Hanna Barbera crossover, but is trying hard to restrain itself. As a kid Shaggy was a fan of the Impossibles (who, iirc, were once intended to get a movie as part of this universe) with models and posters that the camera never completely focuses on, you see Laff-a-Lympics on an arcade machine, references to classic Scooby writers and actors as location names (I laughed at Messick Mountain, and the Takamoto Bowl outright went over my head at first), even little things like Scooby bowling like Fred Flintstone or the blink and you’ll miss it appearance of Yankee Doodle Pigeon - and yes, Captain Caveman shows up, fully voiced by Tracy Morgan and kicking butt for a very short scene, with one of his show’s supporting characters (Dee Dee Skyes) as a prominent in this movie’s plot. There’s even musical references in addition to visible ones: at one point, the movie even orchestrates one of the classic bits of Scooby Doo background music. I was hoping for a reference to the classic Scooby Doo / Blue Falcon theme, but alas that was one nod we didn’t get.

However, this approach does work especially well with Blue Falcon - who was originally built up through Scooby Doo, sharing a timeslot, advertisement and technically a theme song, and in time has more or less become to Scooby Doo what Donkey Kong is to Mario: technically a supporting character, but able to do his own stuff every once in a while. There have been several Blue Falcon Scooby Doo crossovers in the last few years (though in terms of sheer number of references this movie’s got nothing on Mask of the Blue Falcon), and they’ve all been very fun as each show, movie or comic reinterpreted the character to fit their specific world - and this movie’s novice Blue Falcon who is kind of an egoistical loser, but turns out to have a lot to learn even from Scooby and Shaggy’s brand of cowardly bravery, grows on you even if he has kind of a rough initial landing.

Unfortunately, this is also a movie that very much wants that rigid hour and a half timeslot, and has absolutely no interest in a going a second longer - and that’s where it’s problems come in. I’ve said before that animated films have become more and more written with expediency in mind: plot points are rushed, denouements are minimized, side or even main characters might not get much utilization, and sometimes things come of as just kind of happening to the protagonists without much set-up. Even the best or the best animation companies fall into these traps at times, and this movie is a good example of what it looks like if you fall into that too much. Take the Scooby gang - Velma, Daphne, and Fred. They’re not really fleshed out that much in this movie, even if they were tweaked a bit with their new VAs - but that’s not necessarily a problem in itself, given the heavy focus on Scooby and Shaggy. What’s more noticeable is where this intersects the plot: for example - one of the better examples of what I’m talking about - the scene that kicks off the whole story. Fred, Velma and Daphne want to expand Mystery Inc, and call Simon Cowell to invest in them. Cowell decides Scooby and Shaggy are incompetent because reasons, and the two storm off. This is later framed as the gang abandoning the duo, that’s not really what happens. Once Cowell hits the scene, beyond one or two lines the rest of the gang essentially ceases to exist, and barely reacts to anything: there’s no moments with them where they seem to buy into what Cowell is saying, there’s nothing beforehand that implies that they’re dissatisfied with Scooby and Shaggy, there’s isn’t even really a status quo for what their dynamic is like. We cut straight from them meeting as kids to them having a supposed fight as adults - this is something that wouldn’t have taken a lot of time, but would have strengthened pretty much everything, from Scooby and Shaggy’s reaction to the trio’s guilt later, but is skipped over entirely. The others get very little beyond being summed up as “the muscle” (Fred), “the face” (Daphne) and “the brains” (Velma), and it feels less like expediency and more like we missed a scene somewhere.

Granted, this particular thing also runs a unique problem that the Scooby gang face. As characters who just turned fifty and who are well entrenched in pop culture, adaptations often assume you know who they already - and this movie definitely assumes you can do its work for it and establish a baseline for the Scooby gang on your own... and on that front, I suppose it does better than the previous film series, which based a lot of its humor on fandom in-jokes they poorly assumed everyone agreed with. But... there’s a degree to which every film needs to establish a baseline for that it itself to trying to do, and I think skipping this hurt the film more than it should have. And it’s hardly the only point where the need for speed cuts out the flow of the film. Scooby and Shaggy get abducted by Blue Falcon, whose assistant then promptly exposits on everything the audience doesn’t know yet about the plot so that they can just skip straight to more action - basically setting up a question and then answering it immediately without set-up. This essentially robs Dick Dastardy - definitely the best thing about the movie - of a strong introduction, in favor of, again, expediency, and it’s kind of baffling given that there’s later scenes where the rest follows the mystery and so repeats that exposition anyway. I mentioned that Blue Falcon himself got a rough initial landing, and that’s because his intro scene is just a lot of new element popping in with exposition, interspersed with pop culture references - and that exposition just stops the whole thing cold for a while. We hit again the “expects you to know” angle with Falcon himself, who is a legacy character of the original Falcon - who we never see, which raises the question of why they bothered to make him a legacy and not just a novice hero in the first place. I’ve always been a strong believer that you can introduce elements without needless explanation unless who introduce concepts that suggest explanation: Scoob and Shag being a fan of the original Blue Falcon, Dynomutt constantly reminiscing about him, and there being a full Falcon organization around which the movie pivots, along with lots of reference, suggest the need for at least a little more than we got - even if it’s just a thirty clip of the way Blue Falcon worked before Brian (the new Falcon) came along - but the movie just wants to rush past it. The entire quest on which the plot is centered it halfway through when we first encounter it, and doesn’t get any explanation at all until halfway through the movie. And then there’s little things like  Captain Caveman cameo, which just leave you wanting more.

This happens again and again, with plot points, characters, all sorts - things introduced halfway and then brushed past as though they’re not. People don’t expect much from animated movies, and stuff like this is one of the reasons why - this movie feels sometimes like it was written for tv, which is ironic given how it ended up being released. But the movies that were themselves DTV or released to TV, like Shaggy’s Showdown or Legend of the Phantasaur, the aforementioned Mask of the Blue Falcon or - my perosnal favorite - Moon Monster Madness, even tend to not have these problems themselves, because they’re more measured and precise about what they want to introduce and why. It’s great to be childish, as long you do childish well.

But now that the criticism portion of the review is done, I will say that this doesn’t hamper the movie’s desire to be fun and easy to follow, it just makes it not as much so as it clearly could have been. If you wanted more Falcon, or more Scooby and Shaggy, more Mystery Inc shenangians, more Dastardly, more adventure, more of a certain gag or humor, more of really any of the movie’s best points, you weren’t getting them that much because the movie was trying to do all of them all at once. But one the movie starts getting traction, about halfway through, that starts to fade as everything coalesces. All the characters meet, we finally know what the heck is going on, and it’s just a straight shot to the end with lots of what this movie does best: cool visuals, silly characters doing silly things, and brave characters doing brave things. Much as I wish there was more to the Captain Caveman segment, it’s one of the most visually hilarious parts of the movie, with the stark contrast of these hi-tech, modern character colliding with these explicitly more cartoony prehistoric designs and antics, and its just wonderful. Everything about Dick Dastardly’s story is great - though I was wishing for a Penelope Pitstop reference - and he even gets a heartwarming conclusion to the whole thing.

I don’t know where the series is going after this - whether they do indeed intend to make more Hanna Barbera movies in this vein. The credits teased Johnny Quest, Frankenstein Jr, Grape Ape (who according to concept art was supposed to be in this one), Atom Ant, and even a bit of Wacky Races, and it’s clear they have the love for classic Hanna Barbera to make it happen. I just hope that if they do, they go with a series who can expand this in a more concise way, with a little better character introduction. I’ve still got my fingers crossed for Future Quest.

The film is still very recommended by me. I loved it, I watched it twice, and it a heck of a lot of fun even with its hang-ups. If you haven’t seen it, there are worse ways for a parent, a kid, or just a big ol’ child at heart to spend an afternoon.

[hindiwebseries2020-blog]

The Enjoyment Market - Details to think about When Assessing a Situation

Hindi Web Series 2020

On the countless numbers of screenplays created annually, only 450 to five hundred of these are "lucky" sufficient to generally be produced into movement pics. Of those people produced, under half are launched in theatres and of those remaining, just a part are produced directly to DVD. These released directly to DVD and also other media usually do not warrant the costs affiliated that has a theatrical launch and therefore the producer/distributor mitigates the chance of damaging hard cash circulation. When major film studios finance a variety of these motion photos, the range of stories they are really interested in telling is proscribed, necessitating producers to finance their videos outside the house the studio system and navigate the planet of "independent movie financing."

Hindi Web Series 2020

Regardless of whether a movie is made by a significant studio or independently, the expansion in world film revenues since 1970 has grown from $1.2 billion to about $15 billion every year. one The MPAA even more estimates that the leisure market generated $27.five billion in California in 1996, compared by using a U.S. Bureau of Financial Analysis estimate of $13.1 billion. The entertainment industry is massive business enterprise. To place it in standpoint, with the core industries that generate California's financial system by exporting merchandise outside the house the state, motion shots will be the tenth biggest and also the fourth most promptly escalating.two It's a high-wage sector, with typical salaries 70 % larger than salaries in other corporations statewide. An identical analyze executed by Watch Enterprise, uncovered that the film and television industries contributed over $16 billion on the Condition of California's economic climate, immediately using 164,000 and indirectly using another 184,000 people. This attract of riches entices several into your industry, but extremely few triumph.

Know Your Players Other research shows that the amount of folks used in the movie production in 0 to 480,000.three There are a selection of motives for this astounding variation in figures and the most vital occur from differences of feeling about whom to depend. The director, producer and main actors are evidently counted as utilized through the motion picture business. They are generally known as "above-the-line" workforce in the market. Considerably with the do the job of constructing a film, having said that, is finished by "below- the-line" staff, this kind of as folks who establish sets, style and make costumes, travel vans and conduct the authorized operate. A lot of these persons are subcontracted by numerous providers, creating it tough to establish if they are utilized by a output, studio or other "entertainment" associated corporation.

When continuing on loss of wages statements, an attorney must understand the leisure sector is very little like the regular career current market. In classic professions, the attorney, banker, or accountant can hope their income to continually raise because they steadily development up the ladder and achieve essential encounter and contacts. It is a recognized proven fact that a lawyer who makes $250,000 a 12 months nowadays is not really gonna operate for $50,000 a 12 months at her subsequent occupation. This is not the situation inside the leisure marketplace. Owing for the risky character from the organization, quite a few outside variables have an affect on your marketability and also the cost a person can demand. For a issue of simple fact, in certain positions, significantly the producer, writer and director, there exists no ensure which you will at any time get another job. The level of competition is stiff, buyer's preferences change over a dime and you will find countless numbers of folks ready to pounce on your place at a given minute. Even getting maternity go away can severely problems your worthy of during the market.

So as to arrive at an exact injury claim, lawyers need to familiarize themselves using the inner workings of the enjoyment business plus the roles the different gamers undertake in obtaining a movie or television program built. It can be a long journey from to display screen and it's important to understand the nuances with the marketplace to comprehend the components that go into figuring out just how much a person is paid. Not all people can command the sort of money Steven Spielberg receives, or perhaps the cash J.J. Abrams might be demanding for his long run jobs.

With that becoming reported, a person of your roles I'm most frequently called on to outline could be the purpose on the movie producer. Related to your serious estate developer, the producer is accountable for your task from a to Z. The producer finds the reasoning, story, script, author, director, financing, distribution, which is also accountable for using the services of the actors plus the movie crew. For the reason that producer secures the financing and distribution with the movie, he or she also will work while using the legal professionals, bankers, advertising and marketing group, and studio heads. Regretably, over the years this function has seemingly been diminished from the large number of credits that look at the conclusion of films that now takes two or a few songs to complete.

Excellent producers have to have the power to assume proactively, have organizational and interaction expertise, remember of all variables, dangers, and market place conditions, and imagine virtually, without the need of destroying the artistic means of filmmaking. An progressive producer is going to be linked to all components of the filmmaking procedure, together with deciding upon and dealing using the screenwriter, choosing the director, casting, editing and choosing the composer. For the duration of output, the producer is responsible for being in the funds and paying the cash, using the enable in the line producer, (the "general contractor") in the greatest way probable to accommodate and provide the building in the photograph.

The producer is surely an entrepreneur who recognizes tips on how to spot a precious item, how to set it with each other right into a movie and how to market it. Due to the fact they are in control of putting the actors collectively, they must be able to come across expertise, and talk the artwork and expertise towards the persons associated with the financing, in addition to the output. Further more, a very good producer is simply pretty much as good as his or her community. For numerous factors, it's important to keep up very good interactions inside the market and an in depth Rolodex is definitely an crucial component while in the repertoire of a productive producer.

Even though the producer requires a fairly lively purpose in the generation of a movie, an "Executive Producer" typically normally takes a far more passive one particular. In movie, the executive producer is often the person who focuses totally on the funding in the task, and it is frequently the individual investing in the movie or the person representing the financing entity. Usually an executive producer will work with the producer about the enterprise and lawful concerns. Almost never may be the govt producer involved in any technological components of the filmmaking process, but is still a vital component of the overall manufacturing with the film.

Now, right here is exactly where it could possibly get tricky. Some govt producers are quite skilled "line producers" and have the clout and accountability to tackle the title of Government Producer. So, let's speak concerning this vital purpose in the approach. 1st, a little background about the expression "line producer." A film price range is pretty much damaged down into two sections - "Above the Line" and "Below the Line" with each individual area possessing it can be individual subtotal inside the spending plan. "Above-the-line" incorporates "talent-related" things this sort of since the author, producer, executive producer, director, and actors. "Below-the-line" comprises anything else not linked with expertise, including the line producer, film crew, products, modifying, music, film processing, and these. When the road producer may possibly be beneath the road, it truly is secure to state the motion picture would not be produced with no them, and most occasions studios and financiers manage the ideal to choose the road producer for your undertaking. The road producer runs each of the aspects of the day-to-day enterprise of making the motion picture, hiring of your crew, ordering equipment, jogging the set... they can be equivalent into the enhancement. The road producer is usually billed using the heady undertaking of creating sure which the movie comes in in time and on funds. They can be responsible for each and every penny expended on just about every "line item," and ought to report all expenses, paying and overages into the producers plus the funding entity.

[paralleljulieverse]

Following our recent posts marking the 60th anniversary of the wedding of Julie Andrews and Tony Walton, here we shine a brief spotlight on how the newlyweds were covered by the media in the early years of their marriage. Their May 1959 wedding was a definite high-water mark of media exposure for Julie and Tony but public interest didn’t end once they’d walked down the aisle. Newspapers and magazines continued to feature regular stories and photos about the ‘happy couple’, detailing what they were up to and how they were adapting to life as husband-and-wife. 

Much of the coverage presented the newlyweds as a quintessentially modern couple who were combining the twin demands of dual careers with companionate marriage. A multi-page profile in the January 1960 issue of British women’s magazine, Housewife serves a good case-in-point. Essentially a ‘celebrities at home’ pictorial, the article marshals the couple’s “delightful new home––a large flat overlooking Eaton Square––to which they went when they were married eight months ago” as a symbolic expression of the blended amalgamations of marital domesticity (Antony: 38). 

The “Andrews-Walton flat is a combination of their two careers,” the article chirps, “Julie’s piano has a prominent place and one room is made into Tony’s studio” (Antony: 40). Elsewhere it describes a cosy everyday scenario of domestic give-and-take as “Julie spends hours practising her singing” with Tony acting as one of her “sternest musical critics,” while Julie in turn “gets a thrill out of Tony’s work for the theatre [and] enjoys posing for his costume designs” (38-39). The image painted here is a transactional blend of conventional married home-life with newer forms of egalitarian coupledom: “two young people––both so young and in love––embarking on a duet” in “their lovely new home...a good basis for security in their marriage” (40-41).

Other profiles were considerably less blithesome. A recurrent refrain in a lot of the media coverage of Julie and Tony’s marriage was the perceived challenges faced by a couple in which, as one early newspaper report put it, “the wife’s name has embarrassingly eclipsed the husband’s” (Wilson: 10). In an era still tethered to orthodox notions of male breadwinners and female homemakers, a union in which the wife assumed greater professional and financial prowess than the husband was sufficiently novel to evoke both curiosity and, at times, unease. 

In the newspaper profile just mentioned, Cecil Wilson (1959) strikes a note of thinly-veiled anxiety when discussing what he apprehends as a gendered dilemma in the couple’s marriage. Titled “How Not to Be Known as Mr Julie Andrews”, the article asserts a very traditional view of marriage in terms of masculine dominance and feminine support. “No man could have done more in less time” than Tony Walton, it proclaims, “to rise above the reflected glory of being ‘Julie Andrews’s husband’ or, worse still, the ignominious label of ‘Mr. Julie Andrews’” (10). “Since his childhood sweetheart from Walton-on-Thames consolidated her...stardom in My Fair Lady, he has firmly established the name of Tony Walton by designing four West End shows...[and n]ow, to give Julie Andrews further pride in being known as Tony Walton’s wife, he has gone into management” as a theatre producer (ibid.).* 

It is a testament to Julie and Tony’s fortitude and well-grounded emotional security that, for the most part, they deflected such concerns as immaterial. Responding to a reporter’s question about how her status as “one of the country’s wealthiest young actresses” impacted her new married lifestyle, Julie  demurred: “I don’t know how much I’m worth...We haven’t a car, although I hold a licence. But Tony holds the important licence, the marriage one” (Hickey: 3). Later, on the eve of her departure for New York to start rehearsals for Camelot, Julie mused further on the ambivalent demands of career and marriage: “Of course it’s nice to get back to work. I love the stage. But what I really like and what I want to do is to settle down and be plain Mrs. Walton” (Tanfield: 12). 

For his part, Tony Walton struck a particularly mature and, for the time, progressive attitude to the unorthodox dynamics of his and Julie’s marriage. When asked in a 1959 interview if he experienced “professional jealousy” of Julie, he replied with categorical pragmatism: “Not a bit. After all, Julie has one career and I have another. But I still wouldn’t rank my fame with hers” (Wilson: 10). It was a consistently balanced approach he maintained––at least publicly––right throughout the marriage, even after Julie had graduated to the exponentially increased fame and fortune of film stardom.  “[T]he embarrassments people see for me are easily coped with because they’re so absurd,” he remarked in a 1966 article, “I’d be stupid if I let them affect me” (Leslie: 8). If there is any problem, he ventured in an admirably democratic take on modern marriage, it is 

“who at any one time is going to be the support. I don’t mean financial but emotional––which is the basis on which the whole marriage is built. When Julie and I were both in the theatre, and she was rehearsing at something and I was working at something else, the pressure times would swing back and forth between us. And at times I’d find myself taking on an almost feminine role, trying to calm, soothe, protect or whatever. And then as soon as I was deeply involved and under pressure then the roles would be reversed. I think if I were an over-dominant kind of male I’d find this situation harder to cope with. But neither of us is over-poweringly masculine or over-poweringly feminine” (ibid.)

That the marriage of Julie Andrews and Tony Walton ultimately didn’t last is a matter of historical record. Following extended periods of separation, the two officially filed for divorce in November 1967, eight and a half years after they were wed (”Julie Andrews Suing”: I-23). But the pair have, by all accounts, maintained a strong and enduring friendship, even after both of them found and subsequently married new partners (Robins: D-6). In fact, Julie is fond of recounting how Tony and his second wife, Gen LeRoy-Walton, affectionately refer to her as “our ex” (Andrews: 323). “They’re best friends and they gang up against me,” explains Tony Walton of the relationship between his former and current partners (McDonnell: 3D). As Julie observed in a 2001 interview: “[T]he divorce was extremely sobering but I've known [Tony] since I was 13 and he was 12, and you cannot undo that knowledge” (Birch: 16).

Notes:

* This kind of angst-ridden discourse about the perceived gendered power imbalance of the Andrews-Walton marriage intensified once Julie made the move to Hollywood and the even greater success of global film stardom. “When a wife starts earning much more money than her husband,” wrote one especially egregious example, “the marriage is not long for the lasting” (Shearer: 15). Such sensationalist commentary was evident even in international reports.”Julie Andrews and her prince-consort” was how one French-language article billed the marriage (Von Cottom: 22).

Sources:

Andrews, Julie. Home: A Memoir of My Early Years. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2008.

Antony, Jonquil. “Theatrical Duet in Eaton Square.” House Wife. March 1960: 38-41.

Birch, Helen. “Truly Andrews.” Daily Telegraph. 7 December 2001: 15-16.

Hickey, William. “For Julie it’s the Beginning.” Daily Express. 8 August 1959: 3.

Jordan, Ruth. “No Fashion Fuss for Julie.” Woman’s Journal. December, 1959: 26-27, 134.

“Julie Andrews Suing Designer for Divorce.” Los Angeles Times. 15 November 1967: I-23.

Leslie, Ann. “Beating the Hysteria: ‘Mr. Julie Andrews’.” Daily Express. 19 April 1966: 8.

McDonnell, Brandy. “Tony Time.” The Oklahoman / Sunday Life. 27 May 2018: D1-D3.

Robins, Cynthia. “When Art and Love Meld Successfully.” San Francisco Examiner. 6 September 1992: D-6.

Shearer, Lloyd. “When a Wife Earns More than a Husband.” Parade. 9 July 1967: 14-15.

Tanfield, Paul. “My Year of Bliss...by Julie Andrews.” Daily Mail. 18 August 1960: 12.

Von Cottom, Joseph. “Julie Andrews et son prince-consort: le pitoyable drame des maris de vedettes.” Ciné-Télé-Revue. 4 August 1966: 22-23.

Wilson, Cecil. “How Not to Be Known as Mr Julie Andrews.” Daily Mail. 24 September 1959: 10.

Photographs by John Dixon, George Konig, and anon.

© 2019 Brett Farmer All Rights Reserved

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

Warren Worhtington 😇

The Comeback Kid OTP Challenge

Day 5: Under normal circumstances hewould speak his mind, but with a gun to his head…

Warnings: it’s a secret agent au in which the reader and Warren have been captured so there’s violence, guns, a little bit of sexual harassment (definitely not romanticized), and genreally a lot of spy movie cliches

A/N:this is going to be part of that secret agent au I’ve talked about beforebecause this seems like the right moment, and yes I did use the name of a Bondvillain in this fun little cliche of a spy au

Under normal circumstances he would speak his mind, but witha gun to his head… Your cocky dumbass of a partner is still speaking his mind.

“You’ll have to speak up, I have a hard time hearingyou over that cheap suit, asshole,” Warren doesn’t even bother to look upat the burly man who glares at him stoically. “In case your puny braincan’t comprehend, I was implying that your boss clearly needs a better stylistfor his cronies.” You hear the man cock his gun that must be pressed toyour partner’s temple, and yet Warren continues to mouth off like a completeidiot, “You can shoot me if you want, but you can’t get any answers if I’mdead—”

The end of whatever snide comment he was about to make iscut off by the man hitting him with the gun, the sound of metal smackingagainst Warren’s face resonating in the poorly-lit room. The whole scene isquite theatrical, really. You and Warren are tied to chairs that are set upback to back in the seedy basement of a drug lord’s mansion where you were justundercover at a socialite party he was hosting, in order retrieve intel, thenyou got caught and ended up here. Like every spy movie you watched growing up,Warren was dressed for the red carpet in a sleek black top of the line tux andyou had opted for the more simplistic waitress uniform to blend in— much toyour dismay, it seemed almost too typical that it was a short black cocktaildress, as opposed to the regular waiting staff suit you were hoping for.

You’re not sure how far below ground you’re being kept, butwhen the door opens you can still vaguely hear the music playing which is howyou’ve deduced that you’re still at the party. Your facing away from theentrance, but you assume the big boss has decide to grace you all with hispresence since all the men around the room have squared up their shoulders andyou can make out some hushed voices speaking in Greek as the door creaks shut.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you whisper-yell,turning your head to one side so that only Warren could hear you while everyoneelse seems to be more preoccupied with the drug lord who pays them.“You’re going to get us—”

“Hey! Speak up!” A man with a heavier accent andrefrigerator-like build approaches you from the front. He looks down at you,but you’ve seen too many of this overdone-stereotype-of man to be scared in theslightest, and you match his scowl with an unreadable glare of your own.“Do you have something to say?” You stay silent, and narrow your eyesat him, which he doesn’t seem to like as much because he slaps you across theface in response, and you could be imagining it, but you feel Warren flinch atthe loud smack echoing through the room. “If you have something to say,you better—”

“Enough,” The room goes silent, the noise presentbeing the sound of light, slow steps approach you. “Aristotle Kristatos,but I’m assuming that you are already familiar with my name.” You canpicture the perfect movie villain introduction, his face being illuminated bythe dull fluorescent lights as he steps out of the shadows.

“It’s about time you got here,” Warren snorts, andyou wonder if he has a death wish.

“Ah yes,” his voice is sinister; straight out of aJames Bond movie. “I’ve heard about you—”

“All good things I hope,” Warren interjects, butKristatos ignores the interruption, proceeding to make his way around the comfylittle set up to your side, and gives you a nonchalant once-over before goingback around to face your partner.

“They call you the Archangel,do they not?”

“That’s me,” Warren leans back in his chair with a cocky grin, chin tilted up in anair of superiority despite the man looking down on him with his own sense ofdominance— which, to be fair, he does have the upper hand in the situationconsidering he’s got the both of you tied down. “I must have made quitethe name for myself.” You don’t know what kind of angle he’s playing butif he’s going to get himself killed he better not be taking you down with him.

“Indeedyou have, Mr. Worthington.” He speaks in a low, deadly tone. He, himselfseems steady, even, but also like he was teetering on the edge of snapping, likethe calm before a storm and anything could set him off. “Your name is onethat is very much, disliked, amongstsome of my, ehm, friends in thebusiness.”

“Andhere I was hoping I was their type,” Warren lets out a small snort, andmutters something under his breath that you can’t quite make out.

“You are not,” Kristatos sounds likehe might let out a low laugh as he steps back around to your side. “Butyour partner,” He brushes stray hairs away from your eyes and his fingerslinger on your skin as they slide down the side of your face. It’s a gesturethat might be considered sweet or even romantic— if it were from someone else.From him, it’s unsettlingly creepy. “They would certainly enjoy hercompany.” Repulsed by the callous man’s touch you tilt your head away,only to be met by a harsh grasp on your chin that angles your head upwards. Hisgrip progressively tightens until your eyes are forced to meet with his. Ensnaringyou in his venomous gaze, there’s a split second where a certain fear flashesacross your eyes, and you know he caught that when the corner of his mouthquirks up. “It would be a shame to see such a pretty face bruised.”

“Don’tyou fucking touch her with yourfilthy hands—” You feel Warren tense up behind you and swear you can hearhim gritting his teeth.

Satisfiedwith the reactions he’s elicited from the both of you, he releases your chinroughly, jerking your head to the side from all the built up tension and makeshis way back around to Warren. “Simmer down, Mr. Worthington, you wouldn’twant anything bad to happen to your lovelypartner because of your hot temper, would you?”

“Eatshi—” the rest of his retort is cut short by his face taking yet againanother punch, but by the big man himself this time.

“Youreally should be more respectful to your host,” Kristatos remarks, and youcrane your neck as far as it will go, to see him dispose of a bloody handkerchiefhe used to wipe the blood off his hands. Judging by the amount of blood, youassume Warren has a gash where he was hit, no doubt from the expensive ringsthe drug lord wears.

You halfexpect Warren to burst out again, but instead, he lets out a dark laugh, andtilts his head slightly to the side, maintaining his cocky smirk despite theblood dripping over his lip. “Do you know why they call me the Archangel?”

“Thisisn’t the time, Worthington,” you mutter under your breath, warning himthat it’s too soon.

Unlike hishenchmen, the big boss here doesn’t seem to care much about hearing what youhave to say to your partner, and plays into the Archangel’s game. “Enlightenme,” Kristatos sneers, thinking he’s just humoring Warren, and you rollyour eyes knowing the latter is about to show off.

“Allowme to demonstrate,” The ropes that bound his wrists drop to the floorbefore he utters the last syllable of his sentence, and the metal chair he saton a second ago is thrust onto the nearest guard where it’s met with an oomph. Of course none of that wasexecuted before Warren took the opportunity to spit a mouthful of blood at thevillain’s feet.

Everything fromthat point unravels fairly quickly. Gunshots ring throughout the room and themetallic clink of bullet casings dropping on the concrete is all around you. Youhear the thumps of large bodies falling to the floor in a heap of lost consciousnesses.

One of themen makes a beeline for you, only to be intercepted by Warren tackling him andswiftly knocking him out with one swing of the chair he had thrown moments ago.The rest of them encroach on your partner and you try to keep track of him inthe crowd of bodies, when your suddenly pulled back and turned to faceKristatos. The man grins at you predatorily as he pulls out his own gun.

Whoevermanhandled your chair soon becomes another tally mark along with what you’dassume to be all of Kristatos’ accomplices as you see him fall limp at the legsof the chair.

Warren callsout to Kristatos and approaches you in what seems to be a hostage situation. “I’monly warning you once, get away from he—”

“Notanother step!” Coming to the conclusion that you’re the hostage doesn’ttake much, considering you’re the one staring down the barrel of the villain’sgun as he aims it between your eyes.

You canbarely contain your sigh of boredom and impatience. It’s not hard for you topredict what happens next, which is Warren, despite having clear disadvantagein distance, is still quicker that the older man and shoots the arm that holdsthe gun up to your head. Landing another shot, you watch as the man before you doublesover in pain and holds a hand over his shoulder.

“It’sabout damn time,” you mutter as Warren finally unties you from the chair.“You know, you could have at least let me have that one guy.” Hedefinitely knows you can handle yourself but it’s also a petty habit of hiswhere he loves stealing the show.

“Ihaven’t had that much fun in a while, and can you blame me for wanting to showoff to my sexy new partner?” He replies with a slight grin, careful not tostretch the gash on his lip.

“Don’tpush it, Worthington,” You warn him as you rub your sore wrists. Warrentosses a loaded gun to you and flashes a small smirk when you catch it withease. The flirtatious moment is interrupted by Kristatos’ grunts of pain as hescrambles his way out of the room and you turn to your partner with an eyebrowraised. “Should we…”

“Nah,he’ll just run into our fellow X-Men,” he responds nonchalantly whiletucking the gun he was holding into his waistband. “So how about we letbackup take care of Kristatos, and you and I can take our sweet time—”

“I’mgoing to give you one chance torethink finishing that sentence after having handed me a gun.”

“Wecan take our sweet time walking out— wouldn’t want you to break a heel,”he barely puts effort into the save, and you snort at how he still tries toplay it smooth, topping it off with a wink. He closes the distance between thetwo of you, taking  off his suit jacketas he does so, and places it around your bare shoulders. “Because I amfirst, and foremost, a gentleman.”

“Itwas a nice touch,” you say in a light, playful tone. “You should getan Oscar for that outburst, back there.”

“Really?”He plays along, a small grin in his voice. “I feel like I could have put abit more passion into it, maybe yell a little louder.”

“Ithink power lies in subtlety,” Taking the pocket hanky from his jacketthat hangs perfectly off your smaller frame, you press it to the gash on hislip. “Not that you would know anything about that.” He chuckles inresponse, and follows up with a slight wince at the strain on his split lip. “Nexttime, you could untie me before you start showing off. Returning the favor isthe least you could do after I got rope burn on my fingers from that.”

“Whatdo you say we get out of here, and I can return the favor in your room?”He’s so smooth that you almostconsider it for a split second. “Or mine— whatever my lovely partner would prefer.”

“Iprefer my room,” Warren’s ears perk up, surprised that you actuallyanswered.

“Soundgood to m—”

“Theone that has a wall separating me from your room where you’ll be behavingyourself.”

“I’mdisappointed, but no promises about behaving,” Warren slides an arm aroundyour waist as he walks you out of the dimly-lit basement, and when you’ve madeit back out to where the air is more breathable he leans close to your ear andspeaks in a low voice that sends a shiver down your spine, “We’ll call it araincheck, this time.”

*PS: I had a lot of fun writing this and hope to continuethis AU more extensively in future and I feel like it’s one the more decentthings I’ve written lately so I hope you enjoyed it despite it not being one ofthe more romantic-centered works of mine~

Tags: @emmcfrxst @iamplaguedwithideas @expellimarvelous @coltcas (hope y’all don’t mind me tagging you)

Masterlist

[qm-vox]

So You Want To Run An Autumn Court

(Check out So You Want To Run A Winter Court if you missed it.)

Winter may be the most misunderstood Court, but Autumn may have the strongest claim to being the odd man out. In a society built on recovering from horror and trauma, the Autumn Court (the Ashen Court, the Leaden Mirror, the Court of Fear) seems purpose-built to churn out monsters, murderers, and slasher villains. If that was all this is, if Autumn was only part of the system because pacts and Pledges made it so, the Court would have been killed to the last man hundreds of years ago. So why do the other three Seasons tolerate Autumn? What purpose does it serve in the Freehold, and what does its defining passion - Fear - offer to the other Courts?

The following article offers advice on designing and running your own Autumn Court and Autumn Courtiers, either as a player or storyteller. It draws primarily from Changeling: the Lost, Lords of Summer, Rites of Spring, Dancers in the Dusk, and Swords at Dawn; further books, if referenced, will be cited.

God Damn It White Wolf, Not Again

Make no mistake: this article is meant to be rooted in the canon of Changeling: the Lost and help present and expand on the Autumn presented in that canon. Unfortunately, more than any of the other three Seasonal Courts, Autumn is both inconsistently characterized, and constantly mischaracterized. For every two great ideas presented about it there’s some shit that’s definitely a flashback to when oWoD was still being designed and the entire staff of White Wolf was doing hard acid. Where necessary, I will be bringing up those parts, explaining why I have chosen to refute them, and offering alternatives rooted in the canon and/or how actual human people behave. Consider yourselves advised.

Witch-Queens - An Overview

The third of the Seasonal Courts and the first of the Declining Seasons, Autumn is associated with Fear in all of its forms: fright, terror, panic, dread, anticipation, doubt, horror, and suspense, among others. Autumn cultivates fear in themselves and others; to have an Autumn Mantle is not just to be an object of fear (though yes, it very much is that), but to know your own fears, to understand them, even to nurture them. Just like the other Seasonal Courts, Autumn rules its Freeholds for one-fourth of the year, generally from the equinox to the solstice, though local custom may vary.

Magic is Autumn’s claim to fame and specialty as a Court, but their MO goes beyond it; in part this is because Autumn is a big believer in efficiency, cunning, secrecy, and prudence, but this is also in part because Autumn is keenly aware of how much they just do not know. “Magic” is an incredibly diverse field, especially when one considers that Autumn takes it upon itself to investigate rumors or knowledge of non-Wyrd magic. Much like medicine, occult knowledge is a field in which you could be a lifelong expert, outstanding in your field, whose knowledge is consulted by Lost the world over, and still both not know shit and be aware that you don’t know shit. Thus one of the first questions Autumn tends to ask when solving problems is, “is there a non-magical solution to this problem?” Often the magical solution ends up being safer and more efficient, but the question is still worth asking, if only to arrive at that answer with confidence.

Talk Shit, Get Hit - Politics in Autumn

Brace yourself, this section is long as fuck.

While Autumn has traces of cooperation between Freeholds (notably, Autumn publishes magazines shared between Autumn Courts, and sometimes funds lectures by members of other Autumn Courts courageous enough to travel to strange lands), it is ultimately a local creature, with much more in common with how Spring governs itself than Summer or Winter. Where Winter’s understanding of internal rank and politics is informed by the knowledge that Pledges get broken and thus are insufficient to enforce trust, Autumn’s various forms of governance are informed by a certain cynical acceptance that violence and authority are related.

There is an unspoken understanding in Autumn that crossing certain lines will get violence enacted upon you. The vast majority of Freeholds - even failing Freeholds - do prohibit members just killing one another without at least prior approval from the current Crown, but as a genie in a Disney sequel once said: you’d be surprised what you can live through. Despite this, the act of violence is much more rare in Autumn politics than the threat of it. Occasionally hot-headed Autumn youngbloods figure their elders can’t be as scary as all that and end up learning a cruel lesson, or a bid to remove a rival or a hated enemy goes badly (or, depending on the Courtier, very well), but more often Autumn’s political maneuvers are undergone with a certain understanding that everyone involved is a killer, will be a killer again in the future, and is quite capable of making even your victory over them cost a pound of flesh.

How Autumn selects the bearer of its Crown varies from Freehold to Freehold, and how that bearer organizes their Court will likewise vary, but some trends and consistent titles do appear in addition to the local ones. You can broadly classify the Autumn Crown as follows:

Rule by Fear - It’s an obvious leap, really. Autumn is the Court of Fear, so from a certain perspective the scariest person there is Winning At Autumn. The Court’s casual attitude about violence definitely helps foster this style of rule, as does the fact that life under a master of Fear is likely to keep the Court flush with fearful Glamour that can be invested in further power. Now at this point you may be asking, quite reasonably, what the Court does about the usual attendant issues of attempting to rule through violence and fear, and the answer is: absolutely fucking nothing. An Autumn monarch that seeks to rule by fear needs to balance their ruling style with a certain amount of consent from the people they are ruling, because everyone they’re reigning over is playing the same game they are. Callous brutes who try to run roughshod over a Court of killers and witches find themselves nailed to a door and left to die alone.

Witch-Queens  - The other obvious candidate for the Autumn Crown is a talented sorcerer of some kind. This approach tends to be somewhat more nuanced than rule by fear; a powerful witch granted the Autumn Crown has also likely been selected for a reputation for wisdom, cunning, and leadership acumen, even if another person might be acknowledged as a more powerful witch. It’s easy to think of such Courts as more stable, considering the track record of autocrats that rule through terror, but that’s not necessarily the case. As much as Plato and people who still think it’s okay to wear fedoras in the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Eighteen would like to think otherwise, ‘intellectual’ and ‘good ruler’ are not synonyms; such figures can be and often are vulnerable to manipulation by more savvy Courtiers, and sometimes to straight-up being murdered by those who would prefer to rule through fear. A wise or at least self-aware Autumn Court takes steps to protect a good witch-queen from those events, and to quietly replace a bad one, but unfortunately ‘self-aware’ and ‘powerful’ are also not synonyms when it comes to Autumn.

An Actual Politician

(Zoe “Zippo” Morris, the Queen of Bonfires. Credit to @lidijadraws)

Finding someone who runs their local Autumn Court because they’re a legitimately competent politician with a functional understanding of human and/or post-human society is like finding an albino raven: it’s rare in the first place, they probably die before they reach adulthood, and if they didn’t it’s because someone else helped to shelter and nurture them. Despite the prevalence of Lost in Autumn quite willing to kill these fledglings in their nests and the seeming non-obviousness of them taking power, wise Autumn rulers of the other two types - generally those who have lived long enough to come to some kind of terms with their own abuse and trauma - will put in the work to raise these politicians so that they can be succeeded by someone who will keep the Court stable and prosperous in the long term. Managing Autumn through a mix of careful alliances, threats, and support from the other three Courts helps such rulers get away with not having the personal power to fight off all comers, and more importantly ties Autumn into the rest of its local society so that it gets a reality check more than “sometimes, when people can screw up the courage to actually show up”. In that way it’s better for the ruler too; without the might to trample over those who disagree with her, she must instead keep the members of her own and other Courts in mind, and be aware of her own bullshit lest she leap up on it and get herself killed.

Lords of Summer details a method of ruling Autumn that it labels as the Palace of Dust, in which Autumn is a wholly secret society hidden even from the rest of the Freehold, who acts to cause Fear and protect its fellows in secret. This is naked fucking stupidity. Even if Autumn could do such a thing without shredding its Clarity all to hell (which it can’t) or get a crack at recruiting new members without the other three Courts mistaking them for privateers or loyalists (which, again, it can’t), Autumn still has to run the god damn Freehold for 1/4th of the year, which among other things means having a person with a big obvious crown on her head, to say nothing of all of her Courtiers and their Mantles, or needing to be physically present to accept tithes of Glamour and oaths of vassalage. I encourage you to discard this idea entirely; it has no relation to how any society functions, and is riddled with logistical, psychological, and thematic problems. Autumn jockeys with Spring for the title of “most dramatic and theatrical Court”; don’t waste that opportunity trying to be the edgiest version of what is already the edgiest Court.

Not even the mightiest Witch-Queen rules alone. Lords of Summer presents some potential titles denoting status and responsibility in the Autumn Court. Not all of them will be present in every Court, and they aren’t necessarily called by these titles (in New Avalon, for instance, the Witch of the Bitter Wind has been called ‘Baba’ for many years, an allusion to Baba Yaga). Each has a role in Autumn’s society that is expanded on below:

Twilit Page - Broadly, the Twilit Page is in charge of neophyte Autumn Courtiers, but this is a more difficult prospect than you might expect. Where Winter is perfectly willing to leave its Flowing Pages out in the wind to die if they can’t form a relationship with a more senior Courtier willing to save them, Autumn is somewhat more likely to attempt to come to the rescue. Some of this is simply because Autumn is more likely to form personal attachments, and some of it is that you don’t bother gathering immense personal power if you aren’t going to use it. The Twilit Page has to keep tabs on aspiring and young members of Autumn, try to teach them the local culture of the Court, and hopefully palm them off into a more formal apprenticeship as soon as possible. Bad Autumn Courts emulate Winter’s example and give this job to a more junior Courtier to keep them busy with paperwork; wiser ones promote more powerful Courtiers to this position so that aspiring members of the Court know what they might become and can be certain that if they call for rescue, rescue will actually arrive.

Paladin of Shadows - Frightful warriors who for some reason don’t want to be in Summer end up in Autumn under this name. Paladins drive Winter mad, given that they’re a role specifically for Autumn Courtiers who are, seemingly, bad at being members of Autumn. Paladins embody the threat of physical violence and death, and are often a natural role for battle-sorcerers in Autumn; Ogres and Elementals especially fall naturally into this method of serving Fear.

Hedge Ranger - Hedge Rangers represent a sort of practical occult knowledge that few people immediately associate with Autumn. Rare is the person who hears the words “Court of Fear” and immediately thinks of a survivalist with a crossbow, but such is the nature of the Thorns: a land of magic that demands practice to go with your theory. Hedge Rangers rarely lack for work; the Hedge is a source of fear and doubt to almost all of the Lost, and those who must brave it will pay dearly for an expert’s guidance. More importantly, Hedge Rangers may be the Freehold’s first line of intelligence against an imminent invasion of the True Fae, privateers, or hostile hobgoblins.

Legate of Mists - Oddly enough, this is one of the positions potentially unlikely to be filled in a healthy Freehold. It sounds counter-intuitive; surely a diplomat is a valuable role in keeping friendly relationships between Courts? But when things are going well, members of the other three Courts generally go directly to the Autumn Courtiers they need for various services. Why cut a finder’s fee to some random asshole to direct you to Jack the Ranger when you can just find Jack or a member of his Motley yourself? But in an Autumn that is less trusted by its fellows, or a Freehold with sharp conflicts between the Courts in general, having someone more outwardly collected and socially savvy as a point of contact can be essential in not escalating conflict to a place people are going to regret. In a Freehold that doesn’t necessarily need a Legate, someone with a related skill set (such as a Baron of the Lesser Ones, or a member of the Legacy of the Black Apple) might have the title bestowed upon them in recognition of their skills, or to formalize their role in negotiating with those other beings.

Fool of First Frost - Any idiot can put on a clown suit and chase people with knives. The role of the Fool is not to spread fear directly, but rather to spread Autumn’s self-awareness of its own deliberate evil to the other Courts. When Spring, Summer, and Winter begin to grow toxic or to cause social issues in the Freehold, it is the Fool and their comedy that first holds them to account through dark parody, scathing rebukes, and the occasional terrifying mystery. Fools also hold Autumn to similar account. A good Fool is socially adept, cunning, and politically aware; a bad Fool is generally killed in their sleep by a slighted noble.

Lord/Lady Scrivener  - Perhaps one of the most inconsistently filled positions in Autumn, the Scrivener writes things down. The Lost have an uneven relationship with the idea of writing things down, in part because writing things down has a bad habit of getting people killed, and in part because of a strong oral tradition and the presence of the Eternal Echoes (Lords of Summer). Some Freeholds never learn the grim stories of When It Goes Wrong and install a Scrivener to keep records of the Freehold or the Court; others follow Winter’s example and record their histories in code. An Autumn Court involved in the aforementioned magazine-publishing and lectures keep a Scrivener in charge of their creation and distribution, but beyond that this title is often quite empty, and infrequent attempts to install it are generally shut down hard.

Ghul - In a Court whose role in the Freehold is often ‘odd jobs, but especially the horrible ones we don’t want to do’, the Ghul is the person who does the most horrible things. In theory, the Ghul’s role is that of assassin to the Court of Fear, but a Freehold that maintains and tolerates one likely also employs them as an executioner and a Jack Ketch. In many Freeholds, the Ghul may be a secret position, kept quiet so that the other Courts don’t know Autumn is willing to retain a paid murderer.

Witch of the Bitter Wind - Quite possibly the only title as ubiquitous to Autumn as the Crown itself, the Witch is the Court’s most prominent sorcerer. It isn’t enough to have raw power (represented with high Wyrd and Mantle); the Witch of the Bitter Wind needs to have broad and deep knowledge of magic, including things no one really wants to know but sometimes has to. The nature of their work means that Witches often shed Clarity to an alarming degree, but replacing a Witch of the Bitter Wind is no simple thing; Lost who can do what they do are not a dime a dozen. Keeping a leash on their Witch is often one of the Autumn Crown’s most important ongoing duties.

Magister of Nightmares - You know what would be nice? If White Wolf could write one god damn thing about this Court consistently for five minutes straight. In Lords of Summer, the Magister is purported to capture and maintain the target of the Ashen Hunt...a ritual in which the entire Freehold goes riding out to kill any of its enemies that it can find. One of these things has to be wrong, and on the balance considering that the Lost have severe problems with imprisoning anything or anyone for any reason, I am inclined to advise you to throw this title out, shake your first at the sky and scream White Wolf’s name at the top of your lungs.

Ashen Notary - One of Autumn’s more surprising roles, the Ashen Notary is an expert in Pledgecraft and is charged with maintaining and, if need be, recording knowledge of powerful Pledges sworn in the Freehold. In a society that sometimes has to establish trust between people who have understandable trust issues, an expert in Pledges is a powerful asset and a vital cog in the smooth running of said society. The Ashen Notary’s knowledge empowers them to check in on Lost who have sworn powerful Pledges, advise them on keeping said Pledges, and to offer their services to broker Pledges between parties who might not otherwise be inclined to do so. The Notary serves another purpose in Autumn itself: they force loners of the Ashen Court to actually participate in society, even if only on the pretext of checking up on their oath of service to the Freehold itself. Autumn Courtiers more inclined to counsel rather than terrify, with a talent for putting people at their ease, thrive in this role.

Aside from these largely internal roles, Autumn Courtiers thrive in the Freehold itself as advisors, viziers, and hatchet men. Though Autumn trends towards skill in violence and magic, its lack of an overall required skill set (in sharp contrast with Summer and Winter) means it often makes its bones doing odd jobs. Need a family of Fetches murdered? Autumn is looking for work. Need a guide through a dangerous Trod? Autumn has a man. Looking to learn Contracts that might help you in your day job? Autumn knows them. While Autumn joins Summer as one of the Courts that spends money rather than makes it, it funds its internal expenses by tithing from these services and otherwise making itself available to its peers.

The Promise of Autumn

What does Autumn offer to potential members, and to those that keep faith with it? UNLIMITED POWER is the answer that springs to most people’s minds immediately, and this is true to an extent, just as it is also true that Autumn provides a haven for those who have fallen in love with magic and struggle with the awkward feelings of shame and self-doubt that said love engenders. But neither captures the entire story. Alone among the Seasonal Courts, Autumn is not offering recruits the chance to heal, not as such. Where Spring holds faith in its renewal, where Summer promises to create something good and noble of the evil done to you, and Winter quietly sells a new life built on your own terms, the children of Fear seem, so often, to leap screaming into an abyss from which there is no return.

So why join Autumn?

Just as every Lost is scarred by Sorrow, so too is each and every living Changeling a child of Fear; Fear of the Others who may come calling to drag them back, Fear of what they have or might become, Fear of rejection by mortal society or mortal loved ones, Fear of betrayal, of privateers and loyalists, of the Thorns, of the things that live in their dreams, and this doesn’t even get into more mundane or personal Fears that may stalk them. Autumn’s offer is simple but compelling: join with the Ashen Court, and you can come to understand your Fear, and to master it. Autumn does not promise to make you unafraid; such a promise would be a lie, and counter to the Court’s ideals in any event. To join with Autumn is instead to develop a relationship with Fear, to confront your abuse directly and thus to lift some of its terrible power over your life. For many drawn to the Court of Fear it can be a relief to be told that it’s okay to be afraid, that even the grim demons that sit the high seats of Autumn are afraid, and that life can go on in the face of that Fear. This quieter, more intimate side of Autumn doesn’t get a lot of press, in part because Autumn prefers it that way, and in part because it can be genuinely hard to talk about. Fear is an intimate emotion, and for those of Spring, Summer, and Winter who go to Autumn for help with their Fears the idea of gossiping about those who guided them, aided them, even befriended them, can be unthinkable.

Other Lost join Autumn because they are in love with magic and they want more of it. The reasons can vary, but Autumn generally puts in quite a bit of effort to recruit such Changelings. Many assume this is because Autumn wants to retain its status as the foremost practitioners of magic, and this is to an extent true, but the Ashen Court also considers this a service to the Freehold. Unwise use of magic is dangerous; just as Autumn takes in the fearful and teaches them sorcery, so too does Autumn take in reckless sorcerers and teach them fear. Magic for magic’s sake is like the pursuit of any form of power for its own sake: foolish and likely to get someone killed. Autumn puts leashes on such Lost until they learn better.

Both sorts of recruits are ultimately made the same offer by Autumn, often unspoken but powerfully present: Autumn can give them the power to no longer be victims. Many Lost were helpless in the face of the evil which claimed them, abused them, and ultimately transformed them. The Court of Fear provides not just the personal power to fight back, but the knowledge and presence of mind to act, not without Fear, but with courage. For many, whose lives are defined by the Fear of going back to the Fairest of Lands, Autumn represents the ability to live with themselves again, in a way the other Courts can’t.

There is a certain ironic selflessness in remaining in Autumn. The Court of Fear purposefully takes on the evils needed to keep the Freehold running and safe, and as a result its active members are often, not to put too fine a point on it, evil. Autumn doesn’t just employ killers, thieves, and abusers, it cultivates them. For Lost whose skill sets fall into these shady categories, Autumn can be a place to belong; for others, remaining in the Season and deepening their relationship to it means asking hard questions about what they’re willing to become, and how hard they’re willing to work to avoid becoming something worse. Autumn’s peers are vital in keeping some semblance of an even keel on its Courtiers, to remind them both not to get lost in the vicious madness of power for the sake of power, and of the joys, pleasures, and sorrows of life that exist outside of the context of Fear. Autumn, in turn, helps hold its peers to account and provides both a spoken warning and a living example of what it means to slide into darkness.

Fear Itself

Autumn’s relationship to Fear is more complex than the other Courts often think it is, and definitely more complex than Autumn itself advertises it as. Just as someone who spreads Sorrow but does not feel Sorrow is a bad Winter Courtier, so too is the ideal Autumn Courtier someone who feels Fear in addition to spreading it. The dance between an Autumn Courtier’s public persona (something at least partly artificial and theatrical) and their private one is a complex affair that can be harsh on Clarity if not managed correctly, but it is absolutely vital to maintaining some semblance of sanity and perspective.

Outwardly, Autumn practices Fear of all kinds. They learn to cultivate and project images that fit their personal brands of Fear (in New Avalon, the local Autumn Court puts its apprentices through drama and theater classes specifically for this reason) and to sow Fear upon others. Only rarely is this visceral, violent terror, for a host of reasons. While the Court could create a glut of Fear by, say, killing an entire fraternity in its frat house on campus and leaving the excessively gory scene to be found by their friends and loved ones, such an event has repercussions beyond the emotion created: mortal police will investigate, bereaved loved ones seek closure or revenge, the school itself might be shut down, and such a vicious assault is certain to take a toll on whatever unlucky Courtiers are expected to carry it out. Much more common are activities such as spreading rumors and urban legends, telling terrifying stories, stalking mortals out alone on lonely nights, blackmail, and acts of violation such as breaking the locks on someone’s house or leaving unsettling ‘gifts’ in their personal possessions. Autumn’s own need to exercise a light hand in cultivating their passion in the mortal populace. Fear, while an effective emotion for manipulating others, can be difficult to predict and control; those Lost who don’t understand that spreading Fear can have unforeseen consequences soon learn better when they bite off more than they can chew and get someone hurt or killed. This is one of Autumn’s harshest and most necessary lessons: you, ultimately, are responsible for the desperate actions of those upon whom you spread your Fear.

Inwardly, Autumn Courtiers seek to relate to their own Fears, to understand them, and to take action about them. Fear can be a healthy response, and the Lost live dangerous lives in which vigilance and caution are quite reasonable daily activities, and the Fears that inform these behaviors are among the more universal to Changelings, but all things Fear more than just the Others. To be Autumn is to ask yourself questions like, “why am I afraid?”, “can I live my life with this Fear?”, “do I also love or Desire the object of my Fear? Does it make me angry?” and, “am I okay with the power this Fear has over me?”. There are many answers to these questions; Autumn encourages its Courtiers to make their own decisions about their Fears, to excuse themselves from projects or tasks where their Fears would cripple them and to seek out those professions where their Fears can be helpful to them. Many a Hedge-Ranger starts their career by acknowledging that they are afraid of the Thorns and seeking to overcome the darkness of that Fear with the light of knowledge, and Autumn knows well the power of desperate terror to turn a cornered rat into a vicious killer. Just as mortals seek out horror movies to experience a visceral thrill, so too does Autumn put themselves in a position to be afraid so that they can teach themselves to live with Fear, to act in spite of or even aided by Fear, and to prove to themselves that they are stronger than their own Fear.

While they are rarer than those Autumn Courtiers who also spread Fear upon others, some Autumn Courtiers relate to their Season only in terms of their personal fear, and their journey into Autumn is founded on understanding and choosing to nurture or overcome their individual Fears. The Ashen Court puts a lot of value in these more gentle, introspective Courtiers, in part because someone has to be around to tell the supervillains when they’re up on their bullshit (again), and in part because these are often those Autumn Courtiers who most openly serve as counselors and healers to their fellow Lost. Many of the Court of Fear’s most talented oneiromancers fall easily into this image of a kinder Autumn.

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice - Organizing Autumn

The basic unit of Autumn is the Courtier, but the basic plural unit of the Court of Fear is the Master-Apprentice bond. While individual Courts do likely organize by appointing nobles and people to assist those nobles (such as, say, a Mistress of the Harvest in charge of the Court’s stores of Goblin Fruits and Harvestmen to assist her), Autumn’s basically selfish organization naturally breaks it up into those who do not yet have power - personal, social, magical, political -  and those that do. The most basic function of a Twilit Page is to help connect potential apprentices to potential masters, who take over the role of educating those apprentices, attending to their personal safety, and ensuring that they don’t starve to death on the streets. These apprentices in turn assist their masters with various projects, enabling them to focus on purely occult matters rather than attending to inconveniences like laundry, cooking meals, or replacing the sinister cobwebs that just won’t stay up in the corners properly. It is during this stage in their life that youngblood Autumn Courtiers learn about the divide between their work face and their friend face, the ideals of Fear and magic, and - hopefully - learn to Fear themselves as well as others. The results can be a bit disorganized, but it keeps Autumn in possession of broad skill sets that appeal to many potential new members who are looking for a place to belong in their new society.

Early adopters of Autumn are often somewhat lonesome by nature and don’t necessarily join Motleys straight away, but as they calm down and start to grow into their own the Court subtly or not-so-subtly encourages them to do so. While Autumn doesn’t have a formal commandment to join diverse Motleys the way Winter does, a sane and stable Autumn Court usually encourages it; Autumn needs the perspectives of its peers if it intends on surviving the journey to power with some semblance of its sanity intact. A Motley also represents a power group that a budding Autumn Courtier can use to further their interests within their own Court, both because a Motley is capable of defending itself from (and committing) greater violence than one Courtier, and because the interconnection of the Courts means pissing off an entire Motley is a much different political prospect. As the Autumn Courtier rises in power and ambition they find themselves with descriptive titles bestowed upon them in honor of their expertise, and with nervous members of the Freehold coming to them for their unique services (prophecy, assassination, occult knowledge, guidance through the Hedge, etc).

What happens from here depends on the Court and the Courtier. The higher echelons of Autumn are staffed by survivors and killers who have seen and done things they would rather not have seen and done. Lost can live for a long time if they’re not killed, but in a Court that respects these elders those lusting for a high office may have no choice but to hone their own skills and wait for the incumbent to finally die. For some positions - especially the Crown or the Witch of the Bitter Wind - there’s a certain “you kill it, you bought it” understanding, in which some degree of personal and magical violence is a permissible method of advancement. You can bet your ass that the Court keeps a careful eye on such usurpers, however; it doesn’t do to encourage random murder with leniency.

Mark Me Down As Scared And Horny

Autumn Courtiers are still (post) human people, and passionate people at that; Autumn’s self-awareness and caution don’t come even close to Winter’s deliberate culture of stoicism and self-denial. Just as much as any of the Lost, Autumn’s own crave personal bonds with others; they want friends, family, lovers, and the respect of their peers. To split the difference between the figures of dread their Court expects them to be, and the more vulnerable and human person such bonds require, Autumn is of necessity somewhat two-faced.

Ultimately, to be friends with a member of Autumn is to accept that you can’t talk about the person you know that others don’t. It’s more than just a PR problem, though that definitely factors into it. Fundamentally, it’s about trust. Just as you sharing your intimate Fears with your friend in Autumn means trusting a known monster and professional abuser with knowledge they can use to hurt you, so too does that Autumn Courtier trust you with their own feelings in a way that could hurt them. A friendship built on mutually assured destruction is no friendship at all, not even in Autumn, and if the children of Fear have to think of their close friends and family in that way then they’re already on the fast way down to staging slasher flicks in real life. For those who can respect their friend’s public persona in public (which does not necessarily entail pretending not to be their friend), Autumn can be among their staunchest allies and most protective supporters. It can be hard to have friends in the lands of Fear, and Fear’s children guard the ones they have with a ferocious will.

Romance, for those Autumn Courtiers inclined to practice it, is similar. Unlike Winter, which is more likely to seek out its own members to love, Autumn relationships with other Autumn Courtiers generally end in a certain amount of blood; each feeds the toxic traits of the other, generally creating a downward spiral of Fear. Summer and Autumn end up together quite a bit, bonding over a common interest in direct action and the similar problems of those who have made a career in violence, but Spring/Autumn relationships can be some of the strongest and most surprising. The renewal Spring believes in and offers to others can give Autumn something to live for besides power, and Autumn in turn provides support and love through the times of Fear and doubt that can sometimes cripple a Spring Courtier. Either way, loving someone in Autumn means to some extent accepting that they have chosen evil when they did not have to. Relationships that last involve both the non-Autumn partner making peace with that choice, and the Autumn one remembering that evil is the tool with which they do their job and not a toy that they play with for fun. If either side can’t swing their role, the relationship often fails.

If you go leafing through the published books you might notice a trend of Autumn Courtiers getting written as femme fatales that betray their lovers and/or murder them. Throw this in the garbage where it belongs. While a certain amount of backstabbing is endemic to Freehold society in general, Autumn being “the people who betray you all the time” leads us back to that idea in the introduction where if this was a thing that happens Autumn would have been killed to the last man a long time ago. This trend in the writing seems to be the meeting point between ‘Autumn is a social Court’ (true), ‘Autumn is often deliberately evil’ (still true), and ‘White Wolf didn’t bother reading their own books’, without stopping to ask about the psychological toll, how Autumn fits into a society, or even the fact that this stereotype fits Spring and Winter’s MO insofar as it fits anyone’s. Even if you were inclined to go here, White Wolf has done it to death. Please don’t.

Lords of Dust - Making Autumn Courtiers

When making your own Autumn Courtier, think about the events in their life that drove them to make this decision. Did their mind bend and then break beneath a particularly cruel Durance? Do they see Autumn as a way of bringing wonder into a world that can so often feel thin and grey? How do they respond to the fundamental questions at the heart of their Court? Autumn deliberately does not command answers to those questions. After all, it doesn’t do to sell yourself as the Court of scholars and wisdom only to discourage questions. Some other helpful considerations to keep in mind include:

What Do You Want?  - Autumn encourages ambition in its Courtiers, and offers power as a method of fulfilling it. What is the throne of your character’s ambition? Why do they seek it, and what will they do or what do they think they’ll do to achieve it? How does their ambition relate to their Fears, and to their own Court? “Keep my family safe” is a perfectly valid ambition, after all - especially given how dangerous it can be to love the Lost, as is joining a prestigious Entitlement, or even using the power of Autumn to reform an aspect of Freehold society.

What Do You Fear?  - The Ashen Court is defined by its relationship to Fear. What things and ideas inspire Fear in your character? How do they react to and relate to those Fears? Which Fears are they trying to shed, and which are they trying to cultivate? How does your character spread their Fear on others, and why? Do they treat the Fears of their friends and loved ones the same way they treat their own?

What’s Your Specialty? - As alluded to earlier, “magic” is an incredibly broad field of study. What sorts of lore attracts your character? Why did they become interested in the sort of magic they practice? What risks are they willing to take for the sake of knowledge, or to use their knowledge? Do they see magic as something mysterious? Spiritual? Scientific? Does your character prefer to keep their lore secretive, or do they perhaps like to foster a more general interest in magic?

What Are Your Sins? - Plenty of the Lost emerge from Arcadia scarred by the things they did to survive. To join Autumn means accepting that further acts, made more questionable by your newfound freedom, will be added to this tally. How does your character feel about Autumn’s deliberate, self-aware evil? Have they been asked to do morally questionable things? What lines do they draw, and how do those lines affect their relationship to their Court? Do they nurse doubts about the morality of spreading Fear?

Chaos Reigns - Autumn In Your Freehold

While Autumn boasts a diverse skill set, ultimately their dual role is to know things, and to do unpleasant things. Other Courts will come to Autumn for these needs, especially where they intersect, which gives you a place to start; figures such as Paladins of Shadow should be the exception, not the rule, unless you have a highly unusual Autumn (perhaps one that exists in relation to a relatively weak Summer). Likewise, Autumn is the Court where the line between a healthy Autumn and a toxic one is most heavily blurred, and where each vision of the Court will have elements of the other. Is your Autumn counterbalanced by a strong Spring and/or Winter that can help keep it on the straight and narrow? How does it relate to the mortal society around it, and what do the other Courts think of that relationship?

Though Autumn is not among the Courts that generates most of the Freehold’s money (as mentioned before, they join Summer in the caste of ‘retained killers’ that costs money), think about the social venues or businesses that your Autumn Court maintains anyway. An Autumn Court that operates a movie theater has access to a steady supply of Fear that also gives them an excuse to hang around normal people and reality check themselves; contrast this with an Autumn that has its claws sunk into a local university, or a Court entwined with a criminal family. Autumn joins Spring in being a Court whose members likely own and operate their own businesses as some kind of front, from book shops to stores catering to the modern witch; these locations can provide a pop of flavor to your Autumn and its Courtiers, as well as fronts through which the Freehold might launder money or stash sensitive objects or knowledge.

I welcome all questions, comments, feedback, and criticisms on this article - send ‘em my way! Next up: Summer

[podcake]

Podcasts & Genre: Noir

When one thinks of the noir genre, the most common association is film noir, a style of film making sparking in popularity many, meany years ago but still carries some relevance today. Though no one really makes genuine noir films anymore, unless you count a few with noir inspired elements, noir mostly lives on strictly as short parodies while mystery stories stay as mystery stories without the usual aesthetic qualities you’d identify a noir film with. 

Noir brings up ideas of stylishly produced, sexual, and cynical stories sparking during the 1940′s that normally focus on a detective that one might describe as hardboiled, a femme fatale or two, and some type of mystery plot to tackle, often involving murder. 

One of the core reasons noir is mostly treated with a certain level of parody in modern work is due to how dramatic these productions could be. The whole vibe of theatrics that came from these productions could be perceived as laughable nowadays. Though much like Broadway musicals could be given a massive reboot through the success of Wicked and later the phenomena of Hamilton, the same could be said for noir that will occasionally slip its way into more modern interpretations while still maintaining an authentic narrative. 

While this is fairly evident in film, we all know that things with more than one picture attached to it isn’t really my specialty. You’re here to hear things and then read about the things you heard. How can sound effectively get an idea across when we only have our imaginations and common sense to tell things apart?

As a whole, this article will be delving into the complexity of translating genre through sound with noir being the main focal point due to its rarity and presence in a different medium of entertainment. 

This might just be a theory though I believe that noir managed to flow pretty well into the audio drama realm mostly because one of the most vital parts of these films is a consistent narration. This aspect alone is oddly enough the real driving force behind noir getting a second life.

And yet I do realize that noir is a kind of genre that is very selectively put to use. It’s relatively rare for a new noir show to pop up, only ever making common occurrences around early to late 2016. Rex Rivetter: Private Eye and Neon Nights: The Arcane Files both debuted the same year with only a few months difference between their publications. 

The same could be said for The Penumbra that came out in March. If this is merely a coincidence or not is on the table as all of the shows came from different producers and are essentially different products in their entirety.

These shows are not the only podcast noir shows in existence, though it’s hard to ignore just how few their are in comparison to the abundance of horror and sci-fi shows that come out every few months.

Among these, The Penumbra and it’s tales of private eye Juno Steel are the most openly successful. The Penumbra takes a creative approach to both the noir genre, with a helpful touch of sci fi, and the fantasy-adventure genre in their Second Citadel series. But if we are to focus on Juno Steel stories in particular, it’s not hard to see why it’s gotten such positive press.

Normally taking place over the course of two part episodes, Juno Steel delivers some strongly written individual mysteries that work their way up to being a whole story with recurring characters and an intriguing central plot. We get some colorful one shot villains, a likable though also dysfunctional lead, and a touch of romance that works to reveal the character’s personal insecurities. 

The Penumbra’s specialty is to remix and retell classic story genres with a touch of modern edge and originality that lets them stand as great individual stories and joins The Bright Sessions and Wolf 359 as some of the most well known modern fiction podcasts. 

A little while later came Neon Nights and Rex Rivetter that I combed through back to back to form a proper opinion on. Though they’ll most definitely be the topics of some future reviews, I do enjoy the air of the occult with Neon Nights which gives it a sort of Dresden Files vibe and Rex Rivetter that’s a touch more old fashioned through presentation which gives it a certain air of glamour that is sometimes delightfully camp. 

The newest contender for the noir genre is What’s The Frequency? which has already made quite the splash in this mostly independent art community with a strong first episode that left a lot to the imagination. Though I’ve always liked the level of absurdity that the noir genre can dig up while still maintaining an air of mystery, What’s The Frequency? is one of the most downright bizarre products to come out in recent memory that’s equal parts eerie and engaging. 

What’s The Frequency? truly commits to the style with its innovative use of static and the inclusion of voice work that invokes just the right vibe of psychedelic 1940′s it’s aiming for. It truly does feel old unlike the usual crisp and clean audio we get from the previously mentioned work. 

Something that has fascinated me is that when you take the film out of film noir you still get a genuine experience. Even without the gray scale, even without the crafty use of silhouettes and dramatic framework, noir has managed to ooze itself into the crevices of fictional podcasts from a purely audio based perspective.  

This I perceive as interesting as noir is noteworthy for its creative cinematography-Dutch angles, night-for-night shots, and silhouettes being the most common. Not to mention clothing like the iconic trench coat and hat approach, women with lipstick we could all assume was red, and people in formal dress for the sake of making every second look as classy as the last.

With podcasts, we only have so much time to get a visual across to listeners without loading them up with pointless filler, most of the run time consisting of dialogue meant to push the story forward to a conclusion. Though audio drama certainly isn’t limited to a purely linear story structure, it does have to pull through a bit more in certain aspects such as writing, sound editing, and acting to hold someone’s attention.

While film gives us more visual shorthand and generally does the settings and characters for us, audio drama leans heavily on getting its story out first and letting the listener fill in the blanks. In audio, visuals are an afterthought but imagery is still roughly where half of the writing effort goes into. It is much easier to look pretty than to sound pretty and this is why podcasts tend to be more ambitious since they can do more with less.

All of these individual shows have some sort of unique quality that gives it its rightful spot as separate stories, and yet you’d be hard pressed not to describe them as noir. Noir is so grounded in film that the idea of translating it to a purely audio based format almost seems to go against what noir is supposed to be, and yet we never run into these complications when we stumble upon them.

We can still identify a horror show without visual blood splatters and can still consider a sci-fi a sci-fi even if we never actually see the interior of a space ship we’re inside of. For example, Wolf 359 is very much science fiction with some strong comedy writing, though it’s also an entirely different beast than Hadron Gospel Hour that may be in the same boat but clearly going up a different stream. 

Audio Diary of a Superhero and The Bright Sessions both tackle ideas of disability outweighed by extraordinary power, and yet it’d be near impossible to get the two mixed up. Presentation and packaging can really make or break a show and how one plans to get these ideas across is the real definitive element at hand. 

While, let’s say for now, horror and science fiction don’t have any definitive visuals, only some recurring ones, noir is different in that it’s almost entirely built on a very specific list of cliches for it to be truly considered part of that group. You kind of need murder, you kind of need a detective, you kind of need a morally ambiguous seductress-so in that vain, noir can very much exist without the usual attributes as long as the audio can get these ideas across.

But let’s say, hypothetically, that these tropes aren’t being put to use. How exactly does one gain the right to consider their story a noir? Well from my understanding, these shows have leaned on a few common trends: a deep voiced protagonist with a definitive, world weary perspective, a jazz score, and taking place in a stylish but troubled city where all the conflict boils. 

It’s truly here that the idea of style and substance, narrative and aesthetic, play into one another for the better. 

Since this article is one part history lesson and another part describing things that are barley a year old, I do feel the need to dig up some facts. A detail many tend to forget is that audio drama was a vital form of entertainment years ago, it getting its start on nighttime radio broadcasts that were tuned into the same way we would watch prime time TV. 

Though this type of entertainment hasn’t entirely died, the radio part of radio drama has leaned more towards desktop computer drama or smartphone drama if we’re going to be taking about technology specifically. 

The thing is that podcasts got a hard reboot when Welcome to Night Vale reminded people how cool that was and everyone followed Joseph Fink and Jeffery Cranor’s breadcrumbs to make their own stories that were slightly less time consuming than writing a book and less expensive than making a movie. 

The strive for authenticity is strong in any artistic medium and podcasts are no exception. We may have our trends and sometimes repetitive structures and dynamics surfacing every few years, though the final product is what really gives anything its identity. What we consider truly authentic for anything or anyone can be boiled down to aesthetic value, narrative value, or something else entirely depending on your perspective. 

The same could be said for me as the whole purpose of Podcasts& is essentially to cover topics with a little more complexity than I’m normally able to. Reviews are restricted to whatever podcasts I managed to finish and pair up on slim similarities, Teatimes have the creators do most of the talking, and Palettes, one of the main support beams of the PodCake empire, are the equivalent of a “best of” reel-a first impressions, if you will. All the while I keep things interesting with flower emoticons and some cute girls over a pink backdrop. These are certainly accessories to my persona, though not the entirety of my work. 

With Podcasts&, we’re given just a little more time to look back and breathe in just what audio drama is capable of. If there’s anything about this medium that has fascinated me it’s the way it can transcend the typical confides of storytelling to still give a satisfying and unique experience. Many audio dramas exist in the same subgroups but I’m hard pressed to find any that are near identical to one another. 

Be it The Penumbra or Neon Nights-they may be fruit bared from the same garden, but their taste and textures are clearly being grown from different kinds of people. What makes each one interesting is that while noir is normally considered an exercise in creatively crafted footage, audio still manages to capture its identity and mood nonetheless. Noir audio dramas have to flex a little more muscle to really get their aesthetic qualities to matter since that is what defines their genre in the fist place.

Interesting how these articles tend to tie into one another. 

As I get to the conclusion of this editorial, I realize I have opened up a whole new can of worms when dealing with genre construction that is such a broad topic that I’ll need more than one text document to talk about it. Maybe some other day in some other month when all the Palettes and reviews are done and I can work up something proper worthy of being the first article of the new year. 

We can discuss comedy and horror and science fiction and surrealism. We can talk about all that has come of it and how there is no one way to tell a tale or represent a genre. 

So consider this little piece a...prelude for what is to come. Let’s talk about history, let’s talk about audio entertainment in its entirety, let’s bookmark Wikipedia articles, because the topic of genre is barely even at its peak when it comes to noir, though the fact that it exists at all says something about what just a few sounds are capable of.

[sinceileftyoublog]

A Winged Victory for the Sullen Interview: Dancing in Venice

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Ambient duo A Winged Victory for the Sullen compose for other media just as much as, if not more than, they make records for themselves. Dustin O’Halloran and Stars of the Lid’s Adam Wiltzie released their self-titled debut 10 years ago but followed it up with Atomos, an original score for Wayne McGregor’s dance company, as well as soundtracks to the films Iris and God’s Own Country. After 2019′s The Undivided Five, a more personal affair, they’ve now returned to writing for the stage, composing Invisible Cities for a 90-minute Leo Warner theatre production inspired by Italo Calvino’s novel of the same name. 

Yet, Invisible Cities as a record stands alone nonetheless; O’Halloran and Wiltzie view putting together an album out of their scores as its own creative endeavor, and the product its own artistic entity. For one, Invisible Cities, the record, is half the length of the score, which followed cues from a script Warner had written for the production. And while there’s a narrative quality to the music, it follows the best peaks and valleys of a Winged Victory record. Opener “So That The City Can Begin to Exist” shimmers with strings, keys, and solemn piano, while hopeful tunes like “Every Solstice Equinox” temper the uneasy expressions of “The Dead Outnumber The Living”. Instrumentals are surrounded by something new for the band--voice--on the pulsating and buzzing “The Celestial City” and choral lead single “Desires Are Already Memories”. The track titles themselves, meanwhile, are taken directly from the novel (translated from Italian to English), but the sequencing of the record was achieved with solely the album format in mind, independent of the order the words appear in the novel or production.

Moreover, the duo feels like Invisible Cities fits within their discography. For one, the instrumentation followed what Wiltzie called “the usual process” of “guitar that doesn’t sound like guitar, piano that doesn’t sound like piano, random keyboard sounds reprocessed and regurgitated” as well as “a little brass and the typical strings we seem to fall back on.” And even though the aesthetic is a little different, primarily due to the use of voice, they feel like they could play some of the songs on the record in a live show. Talking to O’Halloran and Wiltzie over Zoom late last year, reflecting on Invisible Cities provided them the opportunity to revisit it after a busy 2020. “It’s been a great year for sitting on your butt and making music,” Wiltzie said, telling me that the band has five (!) records finished at the moment. “I’m just gonna retire and slowly release them,” quipped O’Halloran. They released Invisible Cities on their Artificial Pinearch Manufacturing label with the blessing of their usual label Ninja Tune, so they could release the record sooner than Ninja Tune’s release calendar allowed. Considering the potential for new Stars of the Lid music after Wiltzie’s solo release and the upcoming release of O’Halloran’s Deutsche Grammophon solo debut Silfur, it was probably a wise move to drop Invisible Cities in February. It’s music that resonates now and will continue to inspire in the future.

Read my conversation with O’Halloran and Wiltzie below, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: Were you aware of the novel Invisible Cities before composing the score?

Adam Wiltzie: I’d read it a while ago. I haven’t known about it for that many years. It was still fresh in my brain. Dustin lived in Italy for a while, so he might have been aware of it for longer. In Italian circles, he seems to be extremely well known.

Dustin O’Halloran: I hadn’t read that particular book until this project, but I’m definitely a fan.

SILY: How did your awareness of the novel make its way into your approach? The eventual score was for Leo Warner’s theater production, but going from start to finish, did your experience of reading the novel make its way into the scoring approach?

AW: Definitely, in a kind of roundabout way. Leo ended up hiring a scriptwriter. There were so many technical people--dancers, actors, there were about 100 people total working on the entire production. He thought it would be good to have a script everyone could follow. Pre-production to the premiere in first week of July 2019, everyone was kind of working remotely in their own cities, and eventually everyone came together. We needed a way to work on it in a tangible way where everybody could follow along. The book is this very atmospheric psychedelic 13th-century travelogue. The script had more of this dialogue that happened between things not exactly in the book that they took as an inspiration. The city of Venice, one of the main characters heavily present in the production, the spirt of the novel is there but it’s not exactly how the novel goes when you see the production.

SILY: How did working on Atomos compare to working on Invisible Cities?

DO: [Atomos] was a pretty big production. That was our first time working the stage. Obviously, this was a totally different thing. That was a production with dancing, 3D elements, an abstract narrative.

AW: I didn’t know at the time what a big deal it was to be working with Wayne. How are you gonna top that? The whole experience was really great. There were elements of what we were doing with McGregor with dance, but one major difference was the soundtrack, the score we did for Wayne’s, we played it live all the way through. The new one is a hodge podge. There are so many elements going on. I look at Atomos--I don’t want to say 50-50, but dance and the music are at the forefront. Here, music is more of a supporting role, if that makes any sense.

SILY: How does that change your approach to scoring, knowing what exact role it’s gonna play in the overall experience?

AW: A lot less pressure, that’s for sure. Hopefully, some day it’ll come back on tour again. It’s a little bit mental. There’s so much going on. I can barely even make sense of it.

DO: I hadn’t seen the production--Adam showed up at the rehearsal--but it was in this abandoned train station in Manchester. It was massive. They built a canal of water to emulate the Venice Canal, and boats.

AW: It was almost a film production, but taking place in a live format. Definitely very ambitious.

SILY: Listening to it, not having seen the production, I can still hear what sounds like cinematic cues. Do you imagine those images in your head, cinematic or theatrical, when composing?

AW: This production was more like a film score because you had a script. Doing really specific scenes.

DO: There was a lot of dialogue and Shakespearean acting. The main actor who played Kublai Khan was a strong theater actor. There was much more of a theater element to the acting.

SILY: To what extent does this as an album exist separately from its context? Can it be fully appreciated as a recording in your minds?

AW: I think so. Obviously, we’re both a little bit biased so it can be hard to have some perspective. But I see a connection with all of our records. Not everybody knows that Atomos was part of a dance production. I like to think it’ll be the same for this, taken out of the context of being there in person. Reading comments from when we dropped the first single, I saw people saying, “Oh, Invisible Cities, like the Calvino book!” without realizing it actually was the book. I think most people don’t really know. It’s a good thing. If you see the production, that’s great, but it’s not gonna show everywhere. You can let go and just enjoy the record. That’s the experience we wanted it to have during the editing process, where we could edit it down to 45 minutes to work as a solid record.

DO: Maybe more than our other works. There’s a bit more storytelling in this. With Atomos, it was pretty much like making a record.

SILY: Thinking about your discography, you have now four technical studio albums including Atomos, and almost as many film soundtracks. When I think of A Winged Victory for the Sullen, so much of it is composed for other media but stands on its own at the same time.

AW: That’s what we hope for. Anybody scoring, that’s a composer musician’s dream. You want the listener to be able to listen all the way through.

SILY: Where did the track titles come from?

AW: They come straight from the book, obviously translated from Italian to English.

SILY: Do those appear in the same order in the novel as they do in the track list?

AW: It doesn’t start from the beginning to end. The goal was to have a good side A and side B. But they are related to specific cities. There’s one on side B, “There Is One Of Which You Never Speak” which is a direct reference to Venice. The city titles are a little bit scattershot. I was reading back through the novel as we were editing, over the past few months of being in lockdown, and we started trading phrases back and forth, and Dustin thought we’d give it a try. It’s been an interesting way to do song titles, not that I invented this concept. I like the phrases. You kind of get lost in them.

SILY: Many of them seem to conjure the mood of the track, like “The Dead Outnumber The Living”. Very uneasy, expressive tones.

DO: When you have a book that interesting, it’s so psychedelic. If anything, I hope people discover Calvino. He’s very under the radar for American readers. For me, he’s such a good writer, very much of the earth, this kind of fantasy realism that’s super inspired.

SILY: Why did you release “Desires Are Already Memories” as the first single?

AW: Dustin chose it. I couldn’t really pick one. Normally, every record, I pick an obvious single, but I couldn’t for this one, so I said to Dustin, “Hey man, pick the single.”

DO: It’s the most different sound to date. I just thought it was a nice change for us and people would be interested to check the rest out. We definitely have our sound and elements we work with. It’s always exciting to get away from the things we normally use. We didn’t ever go into the project with any idea of what the instrumentation would be. Whatever we explore, there’s a lot of processing that happens, a lot of experimentation. It’s always great to bend these classical or traditional instruments to try to find ways to bring them life. That track was combining things I hadn’t really heard before.

SILY: What’s the inspiration behind the album art?

AW: On the previous record, The Undivided Five, Ninja Tune gave us some choices, and we started working with this guy Davy [Evans]. We connected emotionally with his images. We just liked him. He was a nice easy guy to work with. Very organic.

DO: I just like that his work feels so otherworldly.

SILY: Do you have a favorite track on the album?

AW: For some reason, I don’t know why, but it’s “Despair Dialogue”. This distorted guitar sound I got in the left channel at the last 45 seconds is one of my favorite guitar sounds I’ve ever gotten. The music is used as support for a spoken word moment between two main characters, so it’s not super loud in the mix. But sometimes things just happen accidentally, and it really grew on me later. I didn’t think it would even make the cut, and now it’s the one I enjoy the most.

SILY: I really like the distorted quality of a lot of the record that belies some of the more beautiful passages--but they’re beautiful in their own way, too.

AW: There are some textures we were pushing a little bit more for this one we haven’t necessarily done. I can’t say less pretty or dark, but there were things I noticed I’m not sure the casual listener does so much, but emotions we would counter some of the melodies with.

SILY: Anything you’ve been watching, listening to, or reading lately that’s caught your attention?

AW: Morricone just died, and there’s this really great biography of his called In His Own Words. I didn’t realize how tortured he was by directors. For how famous he was, he was really miserable about it. I also read The Complete Personal Memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant, about the Civil War. It’s really bleak.

For some reason, I have Adult Swim over here, and I’ve been watching Mike Tyson Mysteries and Robot Chicken. I don’t know if I’d recommend them, but they’re pretty funny. 

[lifejustgotawkward]

365 Day Movie Challenge (2017) - #348: Blade Runner 2049 (2017) - dir. Denis Villeneuve

As the end credits rolled on Blade Runner 2049 last Sunday night at the Regal Union Square multiplex, I turned to my friend and asked her my usual question, “So, what did you think?” She groaned out, “that was really boring,” and the wave of relief I felt at her response was the perfect summation of my feelings.

How did Blade Runner 2049 disappoint me? Let me count the ways.

I watched Ridley Scott’s original Blade Runner (1982) back in September. I was impressed, though not bowled over, by the theatrical cut, but I still wanted to give the final cut a chance. When I got around to watching that “definitive” version, I found that I actually missed Harrison Ford’s gruff, noiresque narration from the earlier edit of the film, but overall my appreciation for Blade Runner had grown and the second viewing allowed me to focus less on the plot and to better appreciate both the acting and the technical aspects of the production.

My expectations for Blade Runner 2049 were fairly high. I was eager to see how Denis Villeneuve built on Scott’s (and, of course, writer Philip K. Dick’s) visions of dystopian Los Angeles by pushing the narrative thirty years further into the future from the first Blade Runner’s setting in 2019. Although I missed the chance to see this new installment in IMAX - hey, those tickets are expensive when you don’t have spare cash to throw around! - I knew I still had to take the time to watch the film on the big screen. No TV could possibly do justice to an epic sci-fi tale of the Blade Runner variety, at least not for an introductory experience.

Bear with me, now, when I say that Blade Runner 2049 was a massive letdown. Yes, Roger Deakins’ stunning cinematography is practically guaranteed to earn him an Oscar nomination. And yes, the art direction, production design and set decoration further supports Denis Villeneuve‘s strengths regarding compelling visuals. I would also be totally fine with Renée April getting an Oscar nomination for costume design since the coat that Officer K (Ryan Gosling) wears throughout the film is incredible. Unfortunately, for the third year in a row (after Sicario and Arrival) my hopes for Villeneuve’s work have been dashed. For three years running he has fallen short of his ambitious ideas, whether attempting to concentrate on an idealistic DEA agent (Emily Blunt in Sicario), a linguist simultaneously mourning the death of her daughter and trying to make contact with aliens (Amy Adams in Arrival) or a Replicant Blade Runner (Ryan Gosling in Blade Runner 2049) who unravels a mystery about a female Replicant who was able to bear a child. All of these protagonists should be worthy of my undivided attention. Instead, Gosling - like one of Nexus’s new edition of Replicants - is just another in a continuing line of failed leads.

Part of the issue is Ryan Gosling’s own fault. In interviews I find him absolutely delightful, a funny and self-deprecating guy with a nicely offbeat sense of humor; in movies he is unremittingly bland. Whether we’re talking about The Notebook or Crazy, Stupid, Love or The Big Short, he never seems to have any discernible personality on film. It makes sense, then, that he would be chosen to play an android in Blade Runner 2049. But what does it say that he didn’t even play Officer K well? Replicants can be portrayed with emotion, if you recall Rutger Hauer, Sean Young, Daryl Hannah, Brion James and Joanna Cassidy in the original Blade Runner. Each actor breathed life into their characters in unique styles. So why couldn’t Villeneuve and screenwriters Hampton Fancher and Michael Green find a way to inject some flavor into their film’s characters?

The posters for Blade Runner 2049 imply that Harrison Ford and Jared Leto play important roles in the film, but in actuality, Leto’s “antagonist,” Niander Wallace, barely has any screen time and Ford’s returning antihero, Rick Deckard, doesn’t show up until the last third of the film. I enjoyed every moment he was onscreen, spitting his dialogue out with the same jaded sarcasm he had in the first film, but I wish the character had had more time to develop in the film. Wallace bears an undistinguished aura of evil, but what was supposed to be so special about him? Given the spotlight often put on his sightless eyes during “creepy” closeups, was his blindness really intended to be read as part of what defined him as bad (in which case, uh, what is that saying about disabilities)?

Next we have to take a look at the women of Blade Runner 2049. There are six notable female characters: Joi (Ana de Armas), a hologram who is a product created by Niander Wallace and who functions solely as K’s live-in girlfriend; Luv (Sylvia Hoeks), a Replicant who acts as Niander Wallace’s right-hand woman; Lieutenant Joshi (Robin Wright), K’s supervisor on the police force; Mariette (Mackenzie Davis), a "pleasure model” Replicant; Dr. Ana Stelline (Carla Juri), who works for the Wallace corporation in a capacity that I shouldn’t spoil for those who have not seen the film; and Freysa (Hiam Abbass), who plays a role that I similarly should not divulge. Of these six, Joi and Ana Stelline are the most sympathetic characters, but regardless of how these women’s actions are meant to be interpreted, the designs of these ladies are problematic.

Joi is an immediately likeable character, but since she is a product (and one who does not initially have a corporeal form), she does not have autonomy. With the push of a button, K can turn her off any time he wants, which I’m sure is an option a lot of dudes wish they had available for their girlfriends. Joi exists only to serve K, telling him how wonderful he is when he gets home from a long work day and providing whatever eye candy he desires (she can shapeshift to alter her clothing, hair and makeup). Should I ignore the fact that Joi has zero character development and applaud Blade Runner 2049 anyway for highlighting the ickiness of a future society where Joi-models are prevalent (thus eliminating the need for actual human women)? Maybe, but the film doesn’t bother to make a statement about this element of social interaction, other than the fact that it exists.

K is finally able to experience physical contact with Joi when she “syncs” with Mariette, a prostitute, to combine their bodies for a sexual encounter with K, resulting in my favorite shot in the film: an unsettling image of Joi and Mariette’s four blurry hands wrapping around the back of K’s head and caressing his hair. While this interlude incorporates an interesting degree of romantic intrigue - to what extent do K, Joi and Mariette understand what love is? - there is something a little too weird in the film’s dependence on the Madonna and Whore tropes, suggesting an either/or dichotomy where the only time a woman can possess both attributes is when she finds another person (technically a Replicant) who can temporarily provide the missing skills.

Luv is probably the best-developed female character, although since she is Niander Wallace’s servant, it is impossible to say where her allegiance to him ends and her own taste for violent retribution begins. Luv seems to genuinely savor hurting people, but I suppose that attitude was programmed into her by Wallace, which somewhat minimizes the cool factor in her badass fight scenes. It’s kind of odd, though, that she manages to outshine the film’s other resident tough gal, Lt. Joshi (I didn’t think anyone could outdo Robin Wright in this department, especially after Wonder Woman). Villeneuve and his writers couldn’t settle on how best to represent Joshi, so the character fluctuates between a generically butch stereotype and a leering boss who drinks too much and flirts with K. Again, not that women have to be only one thing, but I like consistency in characters rather than mixed messages. I wonder how much of Blade Runner 2049′s muddled and archaic depictions of women are thanks to Hampton Fancher, who also co-wrote the original Blade Runner’s screenplay, which was full of troublesome approaches to womanhood, sexuality and sexual consent.

In the end, the difference between Blade Runner and Blade Runner 2049 is like the distinction between a human being and a Replicant. 2049 tries to live up to the originality of that which inspired it, but it lacks the soul of its predecessor. It really says something that the most heartfelt moments in Blade Runner 2049 are two references to Ridley Scott’s film: a pivotal scene in Wallace’s lair that conjures up the memory of Rachael (Sean Young) from the film, and a moment in the penultimate scene that reuses a key piece of music from Vangelis’s original Blade Runner score. I recognize that many viewers see Blade Runner 2049 as a masterpiece, and I have tried many times in the past week to understand why, but I’m hard-pressed to comprehend why I should have spent close to three hours sitting through such an unsatisfying project, other than being able to say I bravely weathered this particular storm.

P.S. (because I couldn’t figure out where else to write this): I don’t know how many viewers will know where I’m coming from, but for the cult classic freaks out there, let me propose this theory: Blade Runner 2049 is trying to be like Paul Morrissey’s notoriously wild horror-satire Flesh for Frankenstein (1973). Check it out: a really bizarre and wealthy man (Udo Kier/Jared Leto) and his devoted assistant (Arno Juerging/Sylvia Hoeks) endeavor to construct a set of superhumans (FfF) or humanoid robots (B42049), entities that will give birth to a new generation of superbeings that will take the place of their inferior progenitors and obediently do their master’s (Kier/Leto) bidding. In fact, there are two specific scenes that reminded me of Flesh for Frankenstein while watching Blade Runner 2049: when Niander Wallace kills the naked, infertile Replicant woman (ugh, what a terrible scene), it mirrors a moment in Flesh when Arno Juerging, the loyal assistant, tries to commence sex with Baron Frankenstein’s female zombie-monster by punching her in the stomach and fatally damaging her internal organs, resulting in a grotesque display of violence similar to what we see in Blade Runner 2049.

Secondly, when Luv battles K at the sea wall and she kisses him, she is mimicking an action that Niander Wallace carried out when he killed the Replicant woman; this is also reminiscent of Flesh for Frankenstein since the Arno Juerging character often does horrible, perverse things - like conflating his lust for the female zombie with a disturbingly compulsion for violence - because he is following his master’s patterns. Take all that analysis for what it’s worth, Blade Runner fans!

P.P.S. I am also convinced that Blade Runner 2049′s Las Vegas wasteland scene was either an homage to or a ripoff of Nastassja Kinski’s desert dream sequence from another of 1982′s finest cult offerings, Cat People. Even in the slightly faded YouTube upload of the clip, the orangeness cannot be overlooked.

[commissarraege]

A visit to a Trump "Campaign Rally" in Florida

I wanted to post this. I read it and it perfectly sums up, albeit in a more religious context, the evil we are facing. Please, read it. It plainly shows how this man brings out the worst in humanity. I encourage all to read this in its entirety and repost as much as humanly possible. Entire read from a one Joel Tooley on Trumps visit to Melbourne, FL--- "What I am about to write and what you are about to read may make some people very uncomfortable, if not angry. That is not my intention nor is it okay with me to cause anyone to stumble. That being said, what I experienced tonight was so dramatic that I cannot help but reflect on it and share what I experienced. A few days ago, people across the United States heard the news that our newly elected President would be visiting Melbourne, Florida – our hometown. It is no surprise to many that I do not support many of the objectives and "campaignisms" of Donald Trump. I know many people who voted for him - friends, family, church people who all voted for their own reasons. The point of this experience is not to relay all of the reasons why I think he should not be the president. Those points are moot – he IS our President. Now, I am enough of a sentimentalist that when I found out THEEEE President was coming to town, I got online quickly and reserved two tickets. The tickets were being given away by the Trump-Pence campaign; I found it odd that the tickets indicated that this was not a government/White House event & that this was a campaign event. I have, of course, posted a joking post about that earlier. What I discovered was that by hosting this as a campaign event, Mr. Trump could determine who was and was not allowed in the venue. If he came on an official visit, they could not prohibit anyone from entering and he couldn't sell his campaign merchandise. So, in essence, he was only allowing his supporters in the room. Well, with a few exceptions… I talked my 11-year-old daughter into coming with me. After all, how many times do you get to see the President of the United States in person – let alone in your hometown? I was eager for her to have this experience. It has to be a pretty cool thing, as a kid to see Air Force One, the President and the First Lady. The event started at 5 PM; we got in line at the venue shortly after 2 PM and the line was already pretty long. There are several mini stories to be told about that experience but don't need to be told for this post. Suffice it to say, it is always an intriguing sociological experience to be surrounded by people in line for something for which they are fanatics - whether it is for a movie premier, a live concert, the release of the latest beanie baby or Cabbage Patch kid. Fanatic people are fascinating to me. While I am not a fan of Trump, I certainly did not want to come across as a vigilante protester while standing amongst some of his most adoring fans. I truly wanted to see if what I was going to witness in person was any different than what I had observed on TV. The entry into the event was very impressive. I have always admired the professional posturing of the Secret Service, including those from our own local law-enforcement who were on duty serving in this capacity. These are women and men who should be highly commended for placing their lives on the line. We entered the venue at 3 PM, two hours before the event started. As we entered, everyone was being handed pom-poms and Trump campaign signs. The hosts made sure everyone had a sign in their hand. Someone shoved one into my hand and gave pom-poms to my daughter. I felt like a sheep in wolves clothing. Music was playing loudly throughout the venue as it filled up with hundreds of people. I would guess there were eventually at least 3000 people in the room. It was nowhere near full, but there certainly were a lot of people there. From my view, the crowd was 99.9% white folk. I did see a row of about 10-12 supporters who were black, wearing T-shirts that said, "Trump and Republicans are not racist" - they were positioned in the seating area directly behind the podium. We were about three rows of people from the very front and had a very good position to view the President and the platform. As people were coming in, there was a lot of excitement and a strong sense of patriotism. Approximately every 15 minutes, the music would be a little more enthusiastic and party-like. I posted my play-by-play feedback of "God bless the USA!" in an earlier post...it was almost church-like. People sang along, raising their hands and were emotionally moved by this anthem. It was intriguing to watch. People were being ushered into a deeply religious experience...and it made me completely uncomfortable. I love my country; I honor those who sacrificed their lives for our freedom and I respect our history and what we stand for, but what I experienced in that moment sent shivers down my spine. I felt like people were here to worship an ideology along with the man who was leading it. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't the song per se – it was this inexplicable movement that was happening in the room. It was a religious zeal. You might liken it to the experience fans would have after their favorite team won the Super Bowl – faces painted, banners flying, confetti in the air and celebrating. But this – this was deeper. A couple of local politicians got up to bring greetings followed by state representative, followed by one of our Congress representatives. A soloist sang, "God bless America" and there was a strong sense of patriotism in the room. A pastor got up to pray and repeatedly prayed throughout his prayer, "Thank you for making this the greatest nation on earth…in Jesus' name." Uh-uh. No. No way, josé. Pastor, this is not the greatest nation on earth. The greatest nation on earth does not exist. Are we a great nation? Definitely. But there are many other great nations as well. Pastor, you have your eyes on a different kind of "greatness" and certainly a different kind of kingdom. Shame on you for praying those words in Jesus' name! Suddenly, the music changed from the pep rally theme to something that seemed more Star Wars themed. The crowd went crazy and turned towards the opening of the airplane hangar that was the venue, just as Air Force One pulled up. What a magnificent sight! That enormous airliner is absolutely breathtaking. The crowd was going wild; signs waving in the air, people cheering, and every cell phone was positioned to take photos and video. As the First Lady and the President emerged at the top of the stairs, the air was electric! It really is a magnificent image to see in person! As they entered the venue and walked to the platform, there was terrific celebration. I have been in the room when other Presidents were in a similar mode – it is always such a meaningful experience to be that close to them, regardless of whether or not you view them with adoration. Theeeee President of the USA! The First Lady approached the platform and in her rich accent, began to recite the Lord's prayer. I can't explain it, but I felt sick. This wasn't a prayer beseeching the presence of Almighty God, it felt theatrical and manipulative. People across the room were reciting it as if it were a pep squad cheer. At the close of the prayer, the room erupted in cheering. It was so uncomfortable. I observed that Mr. Trump did not recite the prayer until the very last line, "be the glory forever and ever, amen!" As he raised his hands in the air, evoking a cheer from the crowd, "USA! USA! USA!" Just as the President begin to speak, a short grandmotherly lady in front of us asked me if I would help hold her walker – the kind that has a seat built into it. She said, "I need to climb up on it and hold something up." Such an odd request at such an odd place at such an odd time. So, I helped her. She held a pillowcase that had something written on the front of it, words I could not see. She climbed up onto the seat, wobbly-legged and held the sign up above her head. People in front of her turned around and started jeering and yelling at her. After holding her sign up for about 10 seconds, she climbed back down and thanked me. I asked her what her sign said – it read, "You had your chance, now resign!" The very first words out of the President's mouth were the words of a bully. That is not simply one person's perspective, it is factual. He immediately began badgering and criticizing the media; like a bully inciting a crowd. Now, do I think the media needs to be held to a high standard and be able to be held accountable? Absolutely! The media as a whole has become sadly non-journalistic and more entertainment, in my opinion. Call it what you will, but I was completely dumbfounded as the most powerful leader in the world began his speech by badgering the media. The crowd began screaming angrily at the entire press corps that was present. He could have said something inspiring and worthy of a Tweet or Facebook post, instead he emerged as an overly powerful bully. Literally, everything that he began speaking about evoked this angry response from the crowd. Immediately following the words of prayer that Jesus taught his followers… It was then that I heard two ladies off to my left chanting, not yelling or screaming but chanting, "T-R....U-M-P; that's how you spell - bigotry!" They repeated the rhyme over and over. Two ladies in front of them began seething and screaming in their face while shaking their Trump signs at them. Another couple standing behind them started screaming at them as well. One of the chanting ladies had her eight-year-old daughter on her back; the other had a severely disabled child in a wheelchair in front of her. As they continued chanting, the people around them became violently enraged. One angry man grabbed the lady's arm - that's when I went into action. I barged through the crowd and yelled at them to back off. My heart wasn't racing; I just instinctively became a protector. I didn't actually want a Trump sign, but one of the volunteers had shoved it into my hands as I walked through the door earlier; "Make America Great Again!" That sign probably saved someone from getting hurt. I held the sign close to my chest as I positioned myself between the chanting protesters and the angry mob. My 11-year-old daughter was clinging to my arm, sobbing in fear. The two angry, screaming ladies looked at me, both of them raised their middle finger at me in my face and repeatedly yelled, "F*#% YOU!" Repeatedly. I calmly responded, "No thank you, I'm happily married." Their faces and their voices were filled with demonic anger. I have been in places and experiences before where demonic activity was palpable. The power of the Holy Spirit of God was protecting me in those moments and was once again protecting me and my daughter in this moment. I raised my voice and calmly said, "These ladies have the right to do what they are doing and they are harming no one; this is America and they a right to express themselves in this way. They are harming no one." A couple of other people around me stepped in and supported me in protecting them as a barrier, as well. My daughter was shaking in fear as she clung to me. The one man behind the protesters shoved himself forward, grabbed the lady by the arm and screamed with multiple expletives, "I'm going to take you out! This is my president and nobody has the right to disrespect him and nobody has the right to keep me from hearing him!" I wish I could have captured the expressions of that man on camera. I will never forget him. The little girl on her mother's back was crying, completely frightened. I leaned forward and reassured her in her ear, "Your mommy is being brave and we will not let these people hurt you. You are afraid because these are angry, awful people. We will not let them hurt you or your mommy. You are being so brave and your mommy is doing something very brave." That's when another lady screamed in my face that what I was doing was un-American. I just chuckled and responded, "What I am doing is completely American – I'm standing up for people who are being bullied – it doesn't matter if I agree with them or not. You came here to see the President, now ignore these ladies, turn around and enjoy the show." Without explanation, they calm down and turned around to hear what Trump had to say. The two protesters then moved towards the back and left the building. I got a couple of high-fives and "thanks for stepping up for them" from bystanders . I wanted to say, "Thanks. Where were you when the the demons were screaming and fists were getting ready to start swinging?" Once again, the environment reminded me of some church experiences I've had. Bystanders. I have no clue what Trump was saying at that point – draining the swamp, vetting refugees, and other things. Oh yeah, I heard people chanting, "Build that wall, build that wall!" I realized then that we were not listening to someone presidential, we were listening to someone terribly powerful. My kid was shaken - she had just seen some of the worst of humanity. We edged ourselves away from the front of the room to the opening of the hangar so we could get a clearer picture of Air Force One. I wanted to give her at least one positive presidential memory. The crowd was much thinner at the back of the room, people were leaving by the hundreds. Outside, there were two jumbotrons set up for a potential overflow – there really wasn't a need for them. There were maybe a couple of hundred people outside watching on the big screens. Not too far behind that group was a large group of protesters. Inside, Trump had rallied the group by giving a little bit of attention to the "paid protesters outside." Now, I can't speak for all of them, but I asked a few where they were from and why they were there - every single one of them were from different cities in Florida and could quickly articulate why they were there. They were not paid protesters – not the ones I spoke with. I'm trying to separate how I actually feel about this man and his campaignisms. I know why people voted for him; I know why people voted against his opponent. But, at the end of the day, what I felt from his leadership in this experience was actually horrifying. There was palpable fear in the room. There was thick anger and vengeance. He was counting on it. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that it would not have taken very much for him to have called this group of people into some kind of riotous reaction. Now, not everyone in the room was a part of the angry mob mentality – I looked around the room and saw many people who could quite easily be folks from my neighborhood, folks from my church, folks who were planning to go grab a bite to eat at Cracker Barrel afterwards. Folks who truly wanted to see America "great." The people who support the Republican Party want to see some needed changes in the government – the people that were there for that reason, are by and large good folks. But those are not the people the President was inciting – they are not the people he was leading. He was rallying the angry, vigilant ones. As we began to leave, I knew my daughter could not possibly care less about Air Force One or the fact that she saw the President of the United States and his wife, in the flesh. I truly had hoped that she could have had that sentimental experience. What she WILL remember is the angry, violent man screaming demonic vitriol at a child and her mother. She will remember the two ladies screaming at her Dad, her pastor – flipping the middle finger and using the F word repeatedly. Now, I know there are people who are convinced that I am jaded and cannot fairly give this man a fair chance. Perhaps that's true. But please remember, especially those of you who know me well, I am a student of culture and human behavior. I am not a stubborn, close minded individual who likes to stick to the status quo. I know there are people who long for me to see the good things about this President and to talk about THOSE things. I know there are people who want me to realize that not everything he is doing is bad and that every President has their strengths and weaknesses and… I know there are people who, when they see these words and hear my thoughts will feel badly because perhaps they can't like me as much as they once did because they don't agree with me. They want me to like the President that they like – they want me to see him the way they see him. I'm sorry. I cannot. You see, the angry, F-word-spewing man is what has been depended on throughout this campaign and is the one who is still being counted on to sustain the message. I tried. As we left the room, these words were echoing in my mind, "Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done..." At the end of the day, I'm a citizen of a nation - I have a leader who God is very aware and who has tremendous responsibilities. I MUST and will pray for him. I'm a citizen of this world and I must continue to see beyond my own limited world view to seek ways to obediently serve Christ. But greater still, I am a citizen of a different kind of Kingdom - the Kingdom that strives for peace, mercy, kindness and a love-relationship with the King of kings. May God have mercy on me."