#Alexis Victor

[rivnedell]

I'm scrolling down the #ChrisPratt hashtag and all I see is debating, thoughts about his voice performance as Mario's voice.

And then I remembered I'm French and I'm lucky not to have a side to choose since I did not hear his voice 😶

Ps : we're so lucky to have such amazing voice actors in France, omg their so famous and well-known and they are the best ❤️

[guycourtheoux]

LE REPAS DES FAUVES, superbe pièce au Théâtre Hébertot, ITV de Julien Sibre, comédien et metteur en scène

Plus de 10 ans après avoir été joué à Paris avec un succès considérable, revoilà LE REPAS DES FAUVES auréolé de 3 Molières en 2011 dont meilleur spectacle.   Nous sommes sous l’occupation allemande en 1942, dans un immeuble parisien. 7 convives se réunissent pour fêter l’anniversaire de l’une d’entre eux et chacun arrive avec ses cadeaux. Le hasard s’en mêle lorsqu’un officier allemand se fait…

[diioonysus]

flowers + art

[lethal-liability]

presented without context or apologies

you get two Rollos cuz he's my pookie 🥰

[twilightxsun]

thanks to @lethal-liability for the idea of making these :)

[ncisverseupdatesandfics]

Anna holding Jay and David's arms 🥹🥹🥹😭

[blood-official]

Good evening Game of Vampires nation (all two of you)

[archivingbarca]

fcbarcelona: 🏆 12 years ago today, we won the UEFA Supercup against Porto!

(ig, 26/08/24)

[druidx]

Heads Up, Seven Up (7 lines), Nine Lines, & Last Line tag games

As might be obvious, I’m really bad at getting around to doing things. I’ve been saving up all my Seven Lines, Nine lines and Last Line tag games because “I’ll get to it someday. Honest!”

I’ve now got so many, I figured out I could just mash them together to help me finish editing Alexis Dalliance vs the Evil of Titan, and call it good.

I took 5 random pages from the work and used a nice online tool to work out that I write an average of 9.8 words per line, which means I need to complete 2,166 words of editing.

Thank you to everyone who’s tagged me in one of these games (it's been so long, probably some of you don't even remember, and some of you no longer seem to exist any more):

@aetherwrites, @alexsidereus x2, @alias-levi, @aquadestinyswriting x4, @artdecosupernova-writing x2, @autumnalwalker x3, @blind-the-winds X3, @chauceryfairytales, @corkythewriteblr, @eli-writes-sometimes x3, @faelanvance x2, @lake-arrius-caverns, @laurabwrites, @mariahwritesstuff, @odysseywritings x2, @oh-no-another-idea x2, @rewrit, @ryns-rambling, @shadowlight-inkedthoughts, @sleepyowlwrites, @spacetimewraithwrites-archive, @strosmkai-rum, @toribookworm22, @tracle0 x2, @viawrites-andacts x2, @whimsyqueen, @winglesswriter, @writingamongther0ses x6, @writingmaidenwarrior, @writingonesdreams, @zmwrites x2, @iparisaltanwing

I ended up writing a little over the target; this is 2500 words.

CW war crimes, slaughter of innocents, a falling Paladin, unusual dialogue marks, swearing

"What do you mean?" Alexis asked after she’d overcome her surprise at seeing the gnome, "How is it sick?" "It’s the lizardfolk who live in the center of the swamp," the gnome said. "They used to live in harmony with the swamp, but recently…" He sighed. "I don’t know what’s wrong. Something’s gotten into them, something evil. They’re destroying vast swathes of the swamp, cutting down trees, burning the brush, befowling the waters." Alexis glanced over at the others. "We might know the reason for this change. The lizardfolk have been drawn into a cult which worships a Demon Prince from the Pit. They must be working on the Demon’s orders." The gnome paled. "Yes. I understand now. I have seen great holes carved in the ground, blocks of stone being dragged to a central site." "They must be constructing a new temple to base their portal on," Richard said. "My friend, we aim to stop these bloodthirsty monsters from bringing the Demon Prince through to this world and destroy the cult." "Stopping the cult will mean the swamp is safe again," Alexis added. The gnome lit up. "Then you have my thanks, Paladin!" "Call me Richard," he said. The gnome shook his hand. "And I am Wurzle Moslicker." "We aim to stop the lizardfolk," Alexis continued after introductions had been made, "but we’ve run into a small snag. The boat we were told was here isn’t, and we cannot cross into the swamp." "Oh!" Wurzle said. "Dear tree-child, you should know there are other ways to cross a watery path." Alexis frowned as Wurzle gave a peculiar call. A cluster of cypress nearby began to shake and shift. Bastet and Richard both reached for their weapons. Alexis gasped as she realised what was happening. "It’s alright!" she cried. "Don’t hurt it!" From the thicket, strode a tree. «You called, Wurzle?» it said, its voice a long and creaking thing. Richard leaned down to Alexis, hissing, "What is that?" "It’s a treent!" she squealed, face filled with wonder. "I’ve heard about them, but never met one before! Galana’s blessed hair, this is amazing!" "Mudwood," Wurzle was saying, "These fine folks need to get across the swamp to the lizardfolk settlement. They’re going to stop them from destroying the swamp." The treent grumbled and harrumphed as it gazed over the group, lingering on Alexis. «This I will do,» it said eventually, «For the presence of the tree-child tells me their intent is true.» "What did it say?" Richard asked. Alexis cocked her head. "You don’t speak sylvan?" "I barely speak elvish," he retorted. "It said it’d take us, but only cuz I’m here." Bastet rolled her eyes. "Of course it did." Alexis bounced on the balls of her feet, wide, pleading eyes focused on Richard. Richard sighed fondly. "Go on, then." Alexis gave a squeal of excitement, racing away. Richard watched her scamper off, springing into the branches of the treent, and scurry up the trunk like a squirrel. "My good sir, is there an easy way up for those of us not inclined to tree-climbing?" Victor asked. Wurzle chuckled. "Yes, of course." He gave another of those strange cries, and Mudwood stooped, holding out a limb for the others to climb on.

For the others, the treent crossing was dull or sickness-inducing, but for Alexis it was heaven. In between scurrying through the branches, relishing the feel of the breeze through her hair and bark under her hands, she pestered Wurzle and Mudwood with questions, some asked by Richard, pressing for more details about the lizardfolk, their numbers and armaments. The morning was wearing on by the time Mudwood dropped them off as close to the lizardfolk settlement as Wurzle would let him. Alexis was the last to dismount, dropping from the lowest branches with a happy sigh. «For you, little one,» Mudwood said, handing Alexis a small wooden pipe, a notch taken from just below a craved mouthpiece. «Blow this when your work is done, I shall return for you. The trees name you ‘friend’. We will pass this by root and leaf. Wherever you are, this whistle will call the nearest treent to your aid.» Alexis stared at the whistle, then hugged the treent. «Thank you for this gift.» "Lex, c’mon." With a final bow to the treent, Alexis took off after her friends.

They trekked through the dense undergrowth of the swamp, hacking at long vines and lush brush, the humidity mingling with sweat making everything uncomfortably damp. As the sun reached its zenith, the lizardfolk’s newly built ziggurat came into view over the tops of the trees. "We’re nearly there," Bastet said, relieved.

They pushed on and soon found their way blocked by a great wall. "Piss and blood," Bastet cursed. Alexis tilted her head back. "I don’t think even I can climb that." "Maybe we can tunnel under it?" Gorgut said, stepping over and using a dagger to dig at the dirt. "We don’t have the equipment," Richard said. "Victor, what about that muddy spell?" "Rock to Mud?" Victor scratched at his chin. "Could work. It depends on how they’ve structured the wall, and if I can get deep enough to find the unworked foundations." "Right. Alexis, you scale that tree to scout the lay of the land. The rest of us will investigate the foundations of the wall. Then we can make a plan of attack for once we’re inside."

Once at the top of the tree, Alexis surveyed the area. Some ways from the base of the ziggurat was the lizardfolk settlement. It looked like a normal village from this high up – low cottages of local foliage gathered around a central open space, one grander than the rest. Drying linens hung from lines on tall poles. Pens of animals and crops surrounded the village. People came and went, carrying pots or pushing hand carts. It could have been any village on the Pagan Plains. It could have been Toreguard. In the time it had taken them to travel down here, the ziggurat had been completed. Despite its apparent completion, people still worked on it, looking like ants scurrying over stone steps, adding carvings and other refinements to the bare faces of the stone. Under an open-sided pagoda at the top, Alexis could just about make out the workings of magic. A structure of bones stood over arcane markings, fires set at junctures of the markings. A priest, delineated by his golden, feathered headband, threw something into the fires occasionally, making them spark and flare unusual colours.

She slid down, relaying this reconnaissance to the others and Richard laid out the plan.

As Victor chanted out his spell, Richard and the others stood back, readying the weapons. Benevelor was summoned from the celestial realm. As the spell took effect, the wall wobbled and crumbled, the mortar loosening. "It’s now or never!" Victor cried, hurrying back to join the others. "Benevelor," Richard commanded, "kick it down." The holy oxen took up position and lashed out with its hind legs. The crumbling blocks shook and with a thundering crash toppled inwards, landing into the mire below. Richard raced forward, leaping onto his mount’s back. "Charge!" he yelled, as the pair of them vanished over the rubble, Gorgut and Victor following close behind. Alexis looked at Bastet. "Ready?" "Give them a few moments more to really grab the attention," Bastet replied. Alexis grunted in reply, finding the bush at her feet of vast interest. Bastet sniffed, looking up at the broken corner of the wall. After a moment, she said, "We’re both professionals." "That we are." "So are we-?" "Absolutely fucking not." "Right." Distantly the sounds of battle reached them. "Sounds like our cue." "Yep." With that, Alexis led the way over the rubble and toward their objective: the temple.

While the menfolk battled with the temple masons and the warriors who protected them, Alexis and Bastet crept behind enemy lines and up the ziggurat. As they approached, the scent of burning spices grew thicker as perfumed smoke wafted out of the pagoda, followed by an undulating chant. As Alexis and Bastet peeked into the pagoda, they saw the head priest, his headband glinting in the firelight, had been joined by two lesser priests wearing wide golden neckbands embossed with the Eye of Muyrr symbol.

With a signal to Bastet, Alexis fired through the smoke and the portal ring, her bolt driving through the head priest's neck. Bastet leapt from cover, her daggers flashing as she took out one of the lesser priests. As Alexis reloaded, Bastet turned towards the last priest, only to find he had armed himself. He slashed out at Bastet, catching her arm. She cried out, falling back against a pillar. The bolt from Alexis' bow took him between the shoulder blades, and he fell, hitting the steps with a wet crunch. "Thanks," Bastet said as Alexis moved up into the pagoda. "Don't mention it." Alexis glanced around. "You wanna deal with the fires while I deal with the lines? Then we can deal with that," her face scrunched as she waved at the bone structure, "together." With an affirmative grunt, Bastet turned her attention to extinguishing the fires, while Alexis scattered the red and grey powders forming the lines of the summoning circle. On a ceremonial table to one side, she found more of the dust and blocks of perfume on tarnished golden dishes. Collecting the plates together, she took them to the edge of the pagoda. The cloud of powder spread like blood in the air as she tossed the dishes away, down the ziggurat. "Lex," Bastet called, urgency in her voice. Alexis turned back to see Bastet was next to the table she’d found the powders on. "Yes?" Bastet held up parchment scrolls. "Can you read these?" Alexis took one, scanning the strange writing. She shook her head. "This is like no script I’ve ever seen. But these diagrams… they’re the same as the floor markings I destroyed. And this looks like the portal edifice." She held them up for comparison. "This one looks like a map," Bast said, spreading it on the table. It was indeed a map of Titan. Parts of the continents were crosshatched with different patterns, and arrows moved from the south of Allansia up and outward. "I might not know what it says, but this looks alarmingly like troop movements, like the ones Captain Hengar has in his office." She glanced at Bastet. "Whatever it is, it can’t be anything good." "Maybe Vic can read them," Bastet said. She tucked the scrolls away and looked at the mound of bound bones. "Let’s destroy this thing so we can get out of this place." Together they turned to the portal ring, a series of long bones lashed together with twine which stood on a small dais of skulls and pelvises, and began to hack at the binding ropes. When the ring was nothing but a pile, they used the table as a shunt, shoving the bones away to clatter down the sides of the ziggurat. Bastet raised a hand, shielding her eyes. "It looks like the fighting's stopped. They're all clustered near the houses." Alexis listened. A few screams and raised voices carried on the wind, echoing the calling of birds and rush of wind in the trees. "I don't hear any fighting. We should get down there and find out what's happening."

The sun was dipping lower in the sky, the tall trees casting shadows as they drew lower. There was indeed a group of people gathered close to the village. Alexis frowned. No, there were no sounds of fighting. But there was wailing. Sobbing. The high cry of a child. The sounds of terror. Fear gripped Alexis’ heart. She picked up the pace. The people were kneeling. Their hands raised, supplicant. Richard stood before them, sword unsheathed. Victor stood at his side, leaning close. Her feet pounded at the leaf-strewn path. Metal glinted. Pleas became screams. Alexis’ voice joined them. "No!"

By the time she arrived, there was nothing but corpses and blood.

Alexis dropped to her knees, voice rasping. "Richard… What did you do?" His eyes were hard as he turned to her. "What I had to." "But they- They were harmless. " The scene wavered in her gaze. "They were innocents!" "Ah, but there’s no such thing as an innocent lizardman, is there?" Victor said, grinning wickedly. "No. Alexis, you’ve seen for yourself what they’re capable of," Richard said. "They had to die." "There were children!" "Better to stop them now then," Victor said. "Richard… This is wrong. You must see that?" "All I see," Bastet said, coming to a panting halt, "is a hero doing what’s needed to keep our world safe." She waved the scrolls found in the temple. "We found evidence they were going to bring the whole world under their heel." Alexis gaped. "That’s not- We don’t know-!" Richard spat on the corpses. "That sounds like something these filthy rotten snake cultists would do." "Where’s Goregut? He’ll make you see-" "Goregut’s dead." Richard’s voice was hard with the faintest of tremors, his face turned to the jungle. "Stabbed through the back by one of these putrid cunts." He turned to Alexis and swallowed. "I’m sorry. I know you liked him. But now, do you see? They had to pay. They all have to pay!" Alexis’s mouth moved. She clutched a fist over her heart. Bastet crowded in onto Richard’s other side, her eyes alight. "Yes! Yes, you are so brave taking on this burden." "Such a true paladin!" "What can we do to help?" Richard kicked at one of the bodies. "We should move deeper. Take them all out. Stop them for good! Yes," he looked back at the others, "we must keep our people safe. We’ll keep all of Allansia safe forever from this evil!" Alexis pulled herself to her feet. "We can’t!" Richard turned back. The hate in his gaze took her breath away. She swallowed. "We, um, we need more provisions. We don’t have enough. To carry on. We should go back to Toreguard-" "To Port Blacksands!" Bastet crowed. "An excellent idea! We can find men and supplies!" "No… That’s not-" But Bastet and Victor were already guiding Richard back the way they’d come, already discussing what they’d need for such an excursion. Alexis watched them stride past, mouth agape, hands clenched and tears in her eyes. "Alexis. Come on," Richard called back over his shoulder. Mute and staggering, Alexis followed behind.

[petervintonjr]

Meet the "Negro Einstein," Lucien Victor Alexis, Sr. Born in 1887 New Orleans, Lucien originally worked as a railway mail clerk, saving up for his ultimate dream --to attend Harvard University; a phenomenally daunting challenge for a Black man at that time. At the age of 27 he finally accumulated sufficient funds and he was accepted, though the university asked him to first attend the Phillips Exeter Academy in New Hampshire for one year. During that period Alexis discovered his talent (and love) for foreign languages and excelled in all of his classes, managing to graduate cum laude from Harvard a full year early (1917) so as not to exhaust the offset from his tuition savings.

During World War I Lucien was commissioned as a 1st Lieutenant in the famed 366th Infantry (see also Lessons 60 and 117 in this series). After the war he returned to his hometown of New Orleans and married Rita Holt, with whom he had one son, Lucien Jr. (who would himself one day also attend Harvard and overcome a great many prejudices of his own). After working as a teacher at a number of elementary schools, he secured an appointment as principal of McDonough High School, where he would truly cement his reputation. Alexis brought some of his Army discipline to his principalship and also to his German and Latin classes, quietly enforcing strict dress and behavior codes. McDonough was situated in a poor neighborhood and was the only public high school available in New Orleans for Black people and endured a bad reputation... but under Alexis's leadership over the next 30 years, the school not only succeeded, it flourished (so much so that local ne'er-do-wells made a point of never picking on any of Alexis's students as they passed through dangerous neighborhoods on their way to and from school!).

Over the course of his tenure, Alexis published a number of additional research articles on ethonic theory, and also physics, chemistry, atomic theory, and even Relativity. After retirement, he and Rita founded and administered New Orleans's Straight Business School (no connection to Straight University). He also founded New Orleans's School of Post-Modern Science, and even served as president of the Supreme Industrial Life Insurance Company --then one of the largest Black insurance firms in the United States. Alexis died in 1981, sadly having outlived his own son, who himself died in 1975. (Teachers: Need some resources to engage your students this Black History Month? I'll send you a pile of these trading cards, no cost, no obligation. Just give me a mailing address and let me know how many students in your class. No strings attached, no censorship, no secret-relaying-of-names to Abbott or DeSantis or HuckaSanders.)

[anyathefandom]

[bruce-wyatt-burner]

👀👀

[lethal-liability]

I made more :3

there's some simpery under the cut if that interests you

hehe... pookie

[itlurkswithin]

The End of the Line

An Alexis Porter Short

The room unfolds before Alexis’ eyes. A ballroom, its rich reds and golds embedding their warmth into all who set foot. Masked goers make way as Alexis is led by some gentle force, guiding through the crowd and to the centre. Each one nodding and bowing in her direction as she passes.

Alexis feels full once again, strong — no longer are her clothes hanging from her thinning body, her hair fragile and static, her posture bent over as she takes a few steps. In this ballroom Alexis takes deliberate strides, chin lifted, shoulders square. Her blonde locks curl and gleam in the chandelier light.

In the centre the crowd opens up. Bathed in the light of the room stands a long passed friend. His soft eyes regard her warmly as a hand reaches out.

“May I have this dance, Alexis?”

The entire room melts away as Alexis places her hand in his, his warmth encapsulating her once again. Naturally she finds his chest to rest on as he leads her around the floor. Even without watching his face, she could feel his contentment in the sureness of his arms.

How long had it been? In this moment Alexis couldn’t say. It was as if time did not exist, the past and the future melded into one.

It was time. Her heart began to flutter.

Alexis lifts her head, bringing a hand to his cheek as if to test that it was really him.

“I’ve missed you, Ambrose.”

Closing his eyes, Ambrose places a kiss on the top of her head as they embrace once more. His smell had never changed; the faint sea salt that lingered on his skin stung her nostrils. Alexis inhales it deeply, her cheek pressing close to his chest once more.

When Alexis finally opens her eyes there is another familiar face beside her. The woman’s hand rests gently on Alexis’ forearm, the corners of the woman’s mouth rising upwards along with her brows.

Without missing a beat Alexis envelopes herself around the woman. Squeezing her tightly in her arms, as if she might fade away at any moment. Her heart in her throat, tears begin to sting at her eyes. Pulling back, Alexis studies the face of her friend — her unexpected friend, born out of the most unimaginable situation. The woman who quickly became her family. The woman who once gone, Alexis vowed to care for her children as if they were her own — as far as she was concerned, they were her own.

“Ruby…” Alexis’ lip quivers.

Ruby took Alexis’ face gently in her hands, placing a kiss on her tear streaked cheek.

Both Ruby and Ambrose look to each other for a moment, blissful smiles playing on their lips. Ambrose’s free arm holds Ruby close to him, their hands intertwining on her waist.

Ruby tilts her head slightly, looking at Ambrose expectantly.

Ambrose nods in return.

“There’s someone who would like to see you.” His low voice was unmistakably smooth, like any rough edges had been softened out before they could reach the air.

The pair take Alexis in hand, leading her through the empty ballroom to the garden door. She lingers in the door way, turning to them both. Her eyes searching theirs frantically.

“Don’t worry,” Ruby says, her hand slipping from Alexis’ grip, “We will always be here.”

“We’ll never leave you, Alexis.” Says Ambrose.

Alexis squeezes Ambrose’s hand one last time before finally letting him free.

She was ready for this. Her time had come.

Air slips through her nose, filling her lungs to the brim. She closes her eyes, silently nodding before turning from her dearest friends and taking one step into the garden.

The midday sun illuminates the garden. The grass is wild, much like her cottage’s garden back home. Wildflowers spring high from the ground, their lilacs and yellows beckoning the bee’s to buzz around their petals.

If Alexis had turned back, she’d have noticed that the illustrious ballroom she had just set foot out of was now no more. A small conservatory stood in its place.

But she didn’t turn back.

There was a man in amongst the flowers, sitting on a set of quaint garden chairs with a table to match. Partially shaded by a large oak tree.

A strong breeze blew at Alexis, whisking her hair across her face. Yet, her gaze never fell from the gentleman.

Alexis began on her front foot, stopping for a moment before stumbling forward.

The man was watching the world go by; the birds singing their songs in the tree, swishing down to dance around the grassy floor. The wind lifts the white grey hairs from his crown every so often, fighting with his bushy moustache to do the same.

Alexis froze beside the chair, the rising and falling of her chest quickening. She has no words that will come out — the wind seems to whisk them from her mouth.

But the man knows she is there. He twists his body towards her from his seat, his moustache obscuring a closed-lip smile that appears from the sight of her. Though his brows naturally pull downwards, his eyes soften and glint in the sunlight. With both hands pressing down upon his thighs, the man rises from his seat.

“My beautiful baby girl,” His voice is course, even faltering in parts. He immediately holds his daughter in his arms.

Alexis stands stunned, disbelief holding her in a trance. She can’t even begin to hug him back. His frame was even frailer than Alexis remembered, his hair, that pressed against her skin, wirer. It had been decades since she last saw her father. Decades since he held her in his arms.

Victor pulls back, tears pooling in his eyes as he looks over her. “You’re so beautiful…you’re—“ his voice catches in the back of his throat, “You’re all grown up now. My little girl.”

“I’ll always be your little girl.” The words barely make it out between sobs.

Alexis’ tears drip from her chin to her father’s shirt as she collapses into his arms, her cries only softened by the cotton.

“I waited my whole life to hold you in my arms again…I’m so proud of who you became, sweetheart.” He sniffs.

“I thought you hated me, Mother said…” Alexis trails off. She doesn’t want to speak about her Mother, not now. They have all the time in the world to discuss the past.

Her Father only held her tighter.

Alexis’ sobs got quieter the longer she stayed in his arms until finally all that was left were small sniffs.

Finally, after a while, the world returns to the whistling of the birds and the wind.

“Come, Let’s have some tea.” Victor pulls back, wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

From what was once the ballroom, Ruby and Ambrose stand arm in arm and watch on as the Father and his little girl have a tea party, just as they had done many years ago.

***

In a quiet room the air is still. The world has stopped. Not even the usual sound from the outside can seep through the brick walls. The four present are silent, listening to the hushing of Alexis’ laboured breaths. Ethan slumps at his mother’s bedside, forehead against her frail hands. Muffled cried escaping him every so often.

The sound of a long drawn exhale fills the room, and with that a stillness comes.

Poppy’s pacing ceases.

The tears welling up in Noah’s eyes stop right at the brink.

Sam’s clasped hands drop an inch from where they rest against his mouth.

They all wait. For how long, it is hard to say.

Ethan looks up at his Mother as she lies in her bed. He didn’t have to look to confirm what he knew — he had felt her life slip from his hands — but for once he didn’t want to believe in his abilities.

[halfwayinlight]

I do wish that Alexis wasn't elbow deep in the hook plot and would take a hot second to bring Spencer over to her house and tell him to sit down and listen up and would give him the saga of what the Cassadines of yore have done to Laura throughout the years so Spencer could get an inkling of a clue as to why, just maybe, he shouldn't trust his Uncle Victor

Or Sonny. If Sonny could peel Nina off of him for a sec. Omg make it stop

[ncisverseupdatesandfics]

NCIS: Hawaii got canceled and there is now a petition going for it to be saved.

The petition was originally posted on X/Twitter @ncisverseupdates and I reposted on my account @ncisversedates.

Please go sign the petition and to all SWAT fans me and Camille @hightechcs on Twitter/X have talked about it and are making posts asking for all SWAT fans to live stream the last two episodes of Hawaii's season to help numbers 🫶🏻