#Barbers 2018

[bladesofkyber]

BRAID (2018) Dir. Mitzi Peirone

[searchsystem]

Edward Barber & Jay Osgerby / Barber & Osgerby / Flos / Bellhop / Outdoor Lamp / 2018

[wifesource]

MIA GOTH photographed by Tim Barber for Glamour Spain (November 2018)

[spidermanifested]

i KNEW i made that post!!!!!!! theres a tweet going around on here with a million notes and likes and whatever thats like haha harry styles sounds like an ace attorney barber. well i made that post in 2018. and it got 41 notes

43 after today when someone somehow found and reblogged it giving me proof it was real

[gacougnol]

David Goldblatt (South African 1930-2018)

A barber's chair of mining timbers, outside a compound on the Luipaardsvlei Estates, Krugersdorp, 1965

[quetzalpapalotl]

Mikey: But that, you know, you bring up Prime, how do you view him in the middle of this? Because he's certainly the, probably the most debated version of the character I've ever seen. John Barber: Yeah, I mean… I hope so, I think he is… When I first started this stuff and I went back and I read all the IDW comics and tried to get a beat on who some of the characters were, and to some degree, kind of really tried to think through like, what if all this stuff happened? Even though in the concrete reality of the way the comics were made, Optimus acts differently because a different writer wrote him, you know. But in real life we don't always act the same. We act differently around different people even if we are intrinsically the same person at any point, we aren't as consistent as fictional characters are. So there's an element of reality to that that was kind of interesting and I was kind of trying to figure out, well, look if you have the way Mike Costa was writing him, plus the way Simon Furman was writing him and… gotta blame everything on Mike and Simon (laughs). But like, you know, and then a big dose of who do I think he is. And he wasn't in the first, year of RID, you know, a little longer than that even, first year and a half or so, two years almost. So it wasn't like I was-, I knew he would be there at some point, but it wasn't like… I mean, excuse me, I knew that if the series didn't get cancelled, he would be there at some point. But I didn't know that would happen, I didn't know we'd wind up going as long as we did. But yeah, so gave me some time to think about, you know, a guy that was a great war leader and somebody trying to be a good person, somebody that's not trying to do villainous things ever. I don't think that's ever a thing that he does, but in a reality where a lot of times there isn't a right choice, there's just a less wrong choice, you know, what choices can you have when being right is what you're all about? You know, like, when the honor and goodness is the main thing with you, where do you, I don't know, how do you maintain that in a world where the idea of right has shifted?

From: Moonbase 2 Interview John Barber 2018

[stickybasementobject]

Johnny Depp Horror Icon

01. A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)

02. Edward Scissorhands (1990)

03. Ed Wood (1994)

04. Sleepy Hollow (1999)

05. The Astronaut's Wife (1999)

06. The Ninth Gate (1999)

07. Corpse Bride (2005)

08. Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare (1991)

09. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007)

10. From Hell (2001)

11. Secret Window (2004)

12. Dark Shadows (2012)

13. Murder on the Orient Express (2017)

14. Transcendence (2014)

15. Marilyn Manson: Kill4Me (2017)

16. London Fields (2018))

17. Tusk (2014)

18. Yoga Hosers (2016)

[haveyouseenthishorrormovie]

Stats from Movies 1301-1400

Top 10 Movies - Highest Number of Votes

964 Pinocchio (1991) had the most votes with 925 votes. Screamplay (1984) had the least votes with 269 votes.

The 10 Most Watched Films by Percentage

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007) was the most watched film with 66% of voters out of 844 saying they had seen it. Discopathe (2013) had the least "Yes" votes with 0,3% of voters out of 352.

The 10 Least Watched Films by Percentage

Pet Sematary II (1992) was the least watched film with 70.7% of voters out of 491 saying they hadn’t seen it. Bondage Ecstasy (1989) had the least "No" votes with 5,1% of voters out of 490.

The 10 Most Known Films by Percentage

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007) was the best known film, 3,1% of voters out of 844 saying they’d never heard of it.

The 10 Least Known Films by Percentage

Bondage Ecstasy (1989) was the least known film, 94% of voters out of 470 saying they’d never heard of it.

The movies part of the statistic count and their polls below the cut.

Needful Things (1993) The Ninth Gate (1999) Last Radio Call (2022) Mind Body Spirit (2023) Digging Up the Marrow (2014) Howard's Mill (2021) Cold Ground (2017) Wekufe (2016) They're Watching (2016) Archivo 253 (2015)

The Thin Man (2015) Bramayugam (2024) Exhibit A (2007) Z (2019) The City of the Dead (1960) Night of the Eagle (1962) Psycho Gothic Lolita (2010) Incident at Loch Ness (2004) Cannibal Holocaust (1980) The Ninth Configuration (1980)

Home Movie (2008) The Reflecting Skin (1990) Hatchet II (2010) Hatchet III (2013) Victor Crowley (2017) Door in the Woods (2019) The Evil Within (2017) In the Cold of the Night (1990) Alien: Covenant (2017) Dust Devil (1992)

It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955) 964 Pinocchio (1991) The Witches Mountain (1973) Screamplay (1984) Terror Eyes (1989) Maximum Overdrive (1986) Colossus: The Forbin Project Exte: Hair Extensions (2007) Bats (1999) Mirrors (2008)

Old People (2022) Sea Fever (2019) Interview with the Vampire (1994) Gothika (2003) Helter Skelter (2012) One Missed Call (2008) Truth or Dare (2018) The Unholy (2021) Children of the Corn (1984) Feral (2017)

Sweetheart (2019) The Invasion (2007) A.M.I. (2019) Look Away (2018) Fatal Frame (2014) It Lives Inside (2023) The Voices (2014) We Are the Night (2010) The Unborn (2009) Cold Prey (2006)

Cold Prey 2 (2008) Cold Prey III (2010) Death Spa (1988) Cat's Eye (1985) Ginger Snaps 2: Unleashed (2004) The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957) The Omen (1976) Mondo Weirdo (1990) Bondage Ecstasy (1989) Pet Sematary II (1992)

Amityville 1992: It's About Time Freddy vs. Jason (2003) You'll Never Find Me (2023) The Ranger (2018) Virus (1999) Eternal Blood (2002) Hannibal (2001) Hannibal Rising (2007) God Told Me To (1976) Meet the Applegates (1990)

Discopathe (2013) Evil Ed (1995) Rasen (1998) The Brain That Wouldn't Die (1962) Saturday the 14th (1981) Carnosaur 3: Primal Species (1996) Anaconda (1997) Anacondas: The Hunt For The Blood Orchid (2004) The Video Dead (1987) Guinea Pig 2: Flower of Flesh and Blood (1985)

Destroy All Neighbors (2024) Lady Frankenstein (1971) AM1200 (2008) Stigma (1980) Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007) Shutter (2008) The Whisperer in Darkness (2011) Gaia (2021) Lurking Fear (1994) Them! (1954)

3-Headed Shark Attack (2015)

[russianperioddrama]

Welcome to the Russian Period Dramas Bracket everyone! The order of things will look something like this:

Polls will start posting tomorrow. One group (A, B, C, D) will be posted per day, starting with Group A. Polls will run for a week. Once all polls for a round close, polls for the following round will begin posting within 24-48 hours (depending on mod availability). You may send in asks with “propaganda” if you wish.

Round 1 matches are listed out below for a full text version. Note that titles are listed in the format: English tittle (official/”official”* or translated) | transliterated title. (*There are occasionally some variations in what is the “official” English title. I tried my best here, usually prioritizing what is used by a major streaming service or wiki).

GROUP A

Ekaterina: The Rise of Catherin the Great | Ekaterina (2014) vs. Pushkin: the Last Duel | Pushkin: Poslednyaya duel (2006)

The Barber of Siberia | Sibirskiy tsiryulnik (1998) vs. Tchaikovsky's wife | Zhena Chaikovskogo (2022)

The Duelist | Duelyant (2016) vs. Life of a Mistress | Volnaya gramota (2018)

Catherine the Great | Velikaya (2015) vs. Poor Nastya | Bednaya Nastya (2023)

Detective Anna | Anna – detectiv (2016) vs. Gardes-marines Ahead! | Gardemariny, vperyod! (1988)

Bloody Lady | Krovavaya Barinya (2018) vs. Institute For Noble Maidens | Institut blagorodnykh devits (2010)

Union of Salvation | Soyuz spaseniya (2019) vs. Star of Captivating Happiness | Zvezda plenitelnogo schastya (1975)

Russian Ark | Russkiy kovcheg (2002) vs. Poor Poor Paul | Bednyy bednyy Pavel (2003)

GROUP B

The Silver Skates | Serebryanyy konki (2020) vs. Sins of Our Fathers | Grekhi ottsov (2004)

Bezsonov (2019) vs. Voskresensky (2021)

Sunstroke  | Solnechnyy Udar (2014) vs. The Fall of the Empire | Gibel imperii (2005)

Matilda (2017) vs. Gloomy River | Ugryum-reka(2021)

The Road To Calvary  | Hozhdenie po mukam (2017) vs. How the Steel Was Tempered | Kak zakalyalas stal (1973)

Admiral (2008) vs. Quiet Flows the Don | Tikhiy Don (2015)

Morphine | Morphiy (2008) vs. Battalion | Batalyon (2015)

Rasputin | Grigoriy R (2014) vs. Christmas Trees 1914 | Yolki 1914 (2014)

GROUP  C

War and Peace | Voyna I mir (1966) vs. The Queen of Spades | Pikovaya dama (1982)

Pechorin (2011) vs. A Hero of Our Time | Geroy nashego vremeni  (2006)

Eugene Onegin | Yevgeny Onegin (1959) vs. A Cruel Romance | Zhestokiy romans (1984)

Gogol (2017) vs. The Idiot | Idiot (2003)

Anna Karenina: Vronsky’s Story | Anna Karenina. Istoriya Vronskogo (2017) vs. Anna Karenina (2009)

Crime and Punishment | Prestuplenie i nakazanie (2007) vs. Brothers Karamazov | Bratya Karamazovy (2009)

Fathers and Sons | Ottsy i deti (2008) vs. Lady Into Lassie | Baryshnya krestyanka (1995)

Two Women | Dve zhenshchiny (2014) vs. The Emperor’s Love | Lyubov imperatora (2003)

GROUP D

Sophia (2016) vs. The Youth of Peter the Great | Yunost Petra (1980)

Furious | Legenda o Kolovrate (2017) vs. Alexander: The Neva Battle | Aleksandr. Nevskaya bitva (2008)

Viking (2016) vs. Iron Lord | Yaroslav: Tysyachu let nazad (2010)

The Terrible | Groznyy (2020) vs. Tsar (2009)

Godunov (2018) vs. Schism | Raskol (2011)

Land of Legends | Serdtse Parmy (2022) vs. Golden Horde | Zolotaya Orda (2018)

Conquest | Tobol (2019) vs. Secrets of the Palace Revolutions | Tayny dvortsovykh perevorotov (2000)

Elizabeth | Elizaveta (2022) vs. Cathedral | Sobor (2021)

[askgildaseniors]

Eric Betancourt's path from a difficult background to tremendous accomplishments is inspirational. His childhood was distinguished by a difficult atmosphere in the Bronx during the 1990s, with street gangs, drugs, and violence widespread. His father was a heroin addict, and when Eric was 12 or 13, he began selling drugs. Due to a lack of healthy role models and the impact of his surroundings, he became involved in drug dealing, which led to his incarceration.

Eric had a transforming experience while in prison, which served as an encouragement to others suffering similar challenges. He detailed the sobering and scary experience of being detained at the age of 22, facing a 15-year term on drug-related charges. Despite the overwhelming circumstances, he resolved to make a change. He began to take advantage of educational opportunities, acquiring trades like welding, cooking, and barbering. His motivated drive to improve himself and be active drove him to work in various prison occupations, keeping him out of trouble and focused on personal development.

Eric's tale demonstrates the strength of drive and the need to find good influences, even in difficult situations. He avoided gang affiliations and instead engaged in positive endeavors. He positioned himself for a brighter future by remaining impartial and focused on the presented chances. This tenacity and hard work reduced his prison sentence and provided him with skills that would aid his reintegration into society. His experience emphasizes the necessity of searching out motivational personalities and mentors who can lead one down the right road.

After his release, Eric faced the challenge of rebuilding his life with an ankle bracelet and the necessity to find work. Despite initial setbacks like job layoffs, his determination and the skills he learned in prison helped him overcome these challenges. His journey from a life of crime to becoming a Broadway actor exemplifies the power of inspiration and personal transformation. Eric's tale serves as a motivational example for others, demonstrating that with persistence, hard effort, and the correct support, one can overcome adversity and achieve one's goals.

Eric Betancourt's credits include Blue Bloods (2019), Life After You (2020), and New Amsterdam (2018-2021). His most recent television appearance came in Taylor Sheridan's Special Ops: Lioness. Eric is a proud member of Labyrinth Theater Company and the Actors Studio member. Eric holds an MFA in Acting from Pace University's The Actors Studio Drama School and a BFA from the University of Rhode Island.

[pixnflixnwrites]

Tina Modotti, 1927

In this photograph of a peasant reading El Machete, the newspaper of the Mexican Communist Party, Modotti brings her careful attention surrounding composition, cropping, light and dark, and texture, to a subject with great social and political significance. Modotti had joined the Communist Party of Mexico this same year after learning that Italy had fallen to fascism. She brought her revolutionary zeal to her photographs of the late 1920s, many of which she published in Communist newspaper El Machete, a newspaper for workers and peasants. Whilst many photographers of this period, including Edward Weston and Paul Strand, were focused on a romanticized view of a timeless Mexico, Modotti turned to her camera to its people and to the real effects of its ongoing changes. She often collaborated with workers to produce photographs that were intended to raise class-consciousness and depict their daily lives.--Karen Barber. “Tina Modotti Artist Overview and Analysis,” on The Art Story website 12 Nov 2018 

[princesssarisa]

Opera on YouTube 3

Il Barbiere di Siviglia (The Barber of Seville)

Mario Lanfrachi studio film, 1965 (Sesto Bruscantini, Valeria Mariconda, Ugo Benelli; conducted by Alberto Zedda; no subtitles)

Jean-Pierre Ponnelle studio film, 1974 (Hermann Prey, Teresa Berganza, Luigi Alva; conducted by Claudio Abbado; English subtitles)

New York City Opera, 1976 (Alan Titus, Beverly Sills, Henry Price; conducted by Sarah Caldwell; English subtitles)

Arena Sferisterio, 1980 (Leo Nucci, Marilyn Horne, Ernesto Palacio; conducted by Nicola Rescingo; no subtitles)

Teatro Real de Madrid, 2005 (Pietro Spagnoli, Maria Bayo, Juan Diego Flórez; conducted by Gianluigi Gelmetti; Arabic subtitles)

Teatro la Fenice, 2008 (Roberto Frontali, Rinat Shaham, Francesco Meli; conducted by Antonino Fogliani; Italian subtitles)

Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 2009 (Pietro Spagnoli, Joyce DiDonato, Juan Diego Flórez; conducted by Antonio Pappano; English subtitles)

Vienna State Opera, 2019 (Rafael Fingerlos, Margarita Gritskova, Juan Diego Flórez; conducted by Evelino Pidó; English subtitles)

Arena di Verona, 2022 (Leo Nucci, Nino Machaidze, Dmitry Korchak; conducted by Daniel Oren; English subtitles)

Garsington Opera, 2023 (Johannes Kamler, Katie Bray, Andrew Stenson; conducted by Douglas Boyd; English subtitles)

Rigoletto

Wolfgang Nagel studio film, 1977 (Rolando Panerai, Franco Bonisolli, Margherita Rinaldi; conducted by Francesco Molinari-Pradelli; Japanese subtitles)

Metropolitan Opera, 1977 (Cornell MacNeil, Plácido Domingo, Ileana Cotrubas; conducted by James Levine; no subtitles)

Metropolitan Opera, 1981 (Cornell MacNeil, Luciano Pavarotti, Christiane Eda-Pierre; conducted by James Levine; no subtitles)

Jean-Pierre Ponnelle film, 1982 (Ingvar Wixell, Luciano Pavarotti, Edita Gruberova; conducted by Riccardo Chailly, English subtitles)

English National Opera, 1982 (John Rawnsley, Arthur Davies, Marie McLaughlin; conducted by Mark Elder, sung in English)

La Monnaie, Brussels, 1999 (Anthony Michaels-Moore, Marcelo Álvarez, Elizabeth Futral; conducted by Vladimir Jurowski; no subtitles)

Arena di Verona, 2001 (Leo Nucci, Aquiles Machado, Inva Mula; conducted by Marcello Viotti; Italian subtitles)

Zürich Opera house, 2006 (Leo Nucci, Piotr Beczala, Elena Mosuc; conducted by Nello Santi; no subtitles)

Paris Opera, 2016 (Quinn Kelsey, Michael Fabiano, Olga Peretyatko; conducted by Nicola Luisotti; English subtitles)

Teatro Massimo, 2018 (George Petean, Ivan Ayon Rivas, Grazia Schiavo; conducted by Stefano Ranzani; English subtitles)

Così Fan Tutte

Vaclav Kaslik studio film, 1969 (Gundula Janowitz, Christa Ludwig, Luigi Alva, Hermann Prey; conducted by Karl Böhm; English subtitles)

Jean-Pierre Ponnelle studio film, 1988 (Edita Gruberova, Delores Ziegler, Luis Lima, Ferruccio Furlanetto; conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt; English subtitles) – Act I, Act II

Teatro alla Scala, 1989 (Daniela Dessì, Delores Ziegler, Josef Kundlak, Alessandro Corbelli; conducted by Riccardo Muti; Italian subtitles) – Act I, Act II

Théâtre du Châtelet, 1992 (Amanda Roocroft, Rosa Mannion, Rainer Trost, Rodney Gilfry; conducted by John Eliot Gardiner; English subtitles)

Vienna State Opera, 1996 (Barbara Frittoli, Angelika Kirschlager, Michael Schade, Bo Skovhus; conducted by Riccardo Muti; English and Italian subtitles)

Teatro Comunale di Ferrara, 2000 (Melanie Diener, Anna Caterina Antonacci, Charles Workman, Nicola Ulivieri; conducted by Claudio Abbado; no subtitles)

Zürich Opera House, 2000 (Cecilia Bartoli, Liliana Nikiteanu, Roberto Saccá, Oliver Widmer; conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt; no subtitles) – Act I, Act II

Opera Lyon, 2007 (Maria Bengtsson, Tove Dahlberg, Daniel Behle, Vito Priante; conducted by Stefano Montanari; French subtitles)

Salzburg Festival, 2009 (Miah Persson, Isabel Leonard, Topi Lehtipuu, Florian Boesch; conducted by Adam Fischer; English subtitles)

Zürich Opera House, 2009 (Malin Hartelius, Anna Bonitatibus, Javier Camarena, Ruben Drole; conducted by Frans Welser-Möst; English subtitles)

Aïda

San Francisco Opera, 1981 (Margaret Price, Luciano Pavarotti; conducted by Luis Garcia Navarro; no subtitles)

Metropolitan Opera, 1985 (Leontyne Price, James McCracken; conducted by James Levine; English subtitles) – Act I, Act II, Act III, Act IV

Teatro alla Scala, 1986 (Maria Chiara, Luciano Pavarotti; conducted by Lorin Maazel; English subtitles)

Metropolitan Opera, 1989 (Aprile Millo, Plácido Domingo; conducted by James Levine; English subtitles)

Teatro Comunale di Busseto, 2001 (Adina Aaron, Scott Piper; conducted by Massimiliano Stefaneli; Italian subtitles)

St. Margarethen Opera Festival, 2004 (Eszter Szümegi, Konstantin Andreev; conducted by Ernst Marzendorfer; English subtitles)

Metropolitan Opera, 2012 (Liudmyla Monastyrska, Roberto Alagna; conducted by Fabio Luisi; Russian subtitles)

Tbisili State Opera, 2017 (Maqvala Aspanidze, Franco Tenelli; conducted by Marco Boemi; Russian subtitles)

Teatro Colón, 2018 (Latonia Moore, Riccardo Massi; conducted by Carlos Vieu; Spanish subtitles)

Teatro la Fenice, 2019 (Roberta Mantegna, Francesco Meli; conducted by Riccardo Frizza; French subtitles)

[dunyun-rings]

Please do!!!!

Okay here’s my horror list in no particular order bc I think they’re all fun for their individual reasons 😈 I’ll put pepper emojis next to titles that are scary in a jump-scare sort of way (or include heavy gore, body horror, etc), and clowns next to ones that are basically comedies

Movies:

-> The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

-> Hannibal (2001) 🌶(heavy gore)

-> Predator (1987)

-> Prey (2022)

-> The Descent (2005) 🌶

-> Jacob’s Ladder (1990)

-> Bride of Chucky (1998) 🤡

-> Seed of Chucky (2004) 🤡

-> Sweeney Todd The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007)

-> M3GAN (2022)

-> Jurassic Park (1993)

-> Silent Hill (2006)

-> The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) 🤡

-> Clue (1985) 🤡

-> The Brothers Grimm (2005) 🤡 (though there is cute animal death in this one so be warned)

-> The Blair Witch Project (1999)

-> Donnie Darko (2001)

-> The Cabin in the Woods (2011) 🤡

-> Paranorman (2012)

-> Coraline (2009)

-> Little Shop of Horrors (1986)

-> Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)

-> Corpse Bride (2005)

-> Edward Scissorhands (1990) 🤡

-> The Haunted Mansion (2003) 🤡

-> The VVitch (2015)

-> The Lighthouse (2019)

-> What We Do in the Shadows (2014) 🤡

-> The Menu (2022)

-> American Psycho (2000)

-> Annihilation (2018)

-> Alien (1979) 🌶

-> The Thing (1982)

-> Willy’s Wonderland (2021) 🤡

-> The Village (2004)

-> Perfect Blue (1997)

-> The Addams Family (1991) 🤡

-> Addams Family Values (1993) 🤡

-> Scooby Doo on Zombie Island (1998)

-> Saw (2004) 🌶(heavy gore)

-> Saw V (2008) 🌶(heavy gore)

-> Jennifer’s Body (2009)

-> Psycho (1960)

-> Let the Right One In (2008)

-> Beetlejuice (1988) 🤡

-> Gremlins (1984) 🤡

-> Teen Wolf (1985) 🤡

-> Tucker & Dale vs Evil (2010) 🤡

-> The Human Centipede (2009) 🌶(body horror)

-> The Babadook (2014)

-> The Mist (2007)

-> Shaun of the Dead (2004) 🤡

Shows:

-> The Haunting of Hill House (2018) 🌶(suicide)

-> Hannibal (2013) 🌶(body horror)

-> Chucky (2021) 🤡

-> What We Do in the Shadows (2019) 🤡

-> 1899 (2022)

-> Courage the Cowardly Dog (1999)

-> Castlevania (2017)

-> The Twilight Zone (1959)

-> Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared (2022)

-> Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace (2004) 🤡

-> Death Note (2006)

-> Twin Peaks (1990) 🌶(very occasionally jump-scare-y)

[passed-out-real]

Adam Driver Top 10 Films

Charlie Barber-Marriage Story (2019)

Flip Zimmerman- BlacKkKlansman (2018)

Paterson- Paterson (2016)

Garupe- Silence (2016)

Jacques Le Gris- The Last Duel (2021)

Clyde Logan- Logan Lucky (2017)

Rick- Tracks (2013)

Daniel Jones- The Report (2019)

Kylo Ren- Star Wars: Episode VII - The Force Awakens (2015)

Henry McHenry- Annette (2021)

[justforbooks]

Towards the end of his life, the actor Adrian Schiller, who has died unexpectedly aged 60, found success and sudden fame in two blockbuster TV shows: The Last Kingdom (2018-22), on Netflix, in which he played the richest man in medieval Wessex, Aethelhelm; and ITV’s drama Victoria (2016-19), as Cornelius Penge, a footman in the royal household.

In both, a fleeting glance would suggest that here was a naturally authoritative actor, blessed with gravitas and style. This camouflaged the demonic comic spirit within, which had informed so many of his memorable stage performances since he first appeared in the German Expressionist Carl Sternheim’s 1911 play The Knickers at the Lyric, Hammersmith, in 1991. In a delicious comic performance, he played a weak-chested Wagner-loving barber thunderstruck by a flash of discarded lingerie as the Kaiser drove by, suggesting, said the Times critic, “a tousle-headed combination of Charlie Chaplin, Egon Schiele and Gollum, whose idea of romance is reading extracts from the Flying Dutchman”.

Schiller proceeded to leading roles with the Royal Shakespeare Company in the 1990s – his Porter in a disappointing 1996 Macbeth was the funniest I had ever seen, while his entertaining Touchstone in an awful 2000 designer knitwear production of As You Like It rescued another dud evening.

He was less prominent in some strange productions at the National – Peter Handke’s wordless The Hour We Knew Nothing of Each Other in 2008, as one of 27 actors playing 450 characters in a town square, coming and going with no interaction, and as a revolutionary tailor in a poor 2013 retread of Carl Zuckmayer’s 1931 Captain of Kopenick, in which Antony Sher did not eclipse memories of Paul Scofield in the NT’s 1971 production.

On the other hand, he was outstanding in Chekhov’s Three Sisters, superbly directed, and modernised, by Benedict Andrews at the Young Vic in 2012, playing Kulygin, a leather-jacketed schoolteacher tragically infatuated with his own disloyal wife; and he was a compelling, original, quietly spoken and sympathetic Shylock in The Merchant of Venice at the Wanamaker, the candle-lit indoor venue at Shakespeare’s Globe, in 2022. The Merchant rekindled the current noise around the play – is it antisemitic or about antisemitism?

In an interview with the Jewish Chronicle, Schiller tilted towards the second view. He averred that he was “a Jew, but not Jewish”.

Schiller was born in Oxford, the second of four children of Judith (nee Bennett), a teacher, and Klaus Schiller, a gastroenterologist whose family had emigrated from Austria to Britain in 1938. When Klaus was appointed a consultant at St Peter’s hospital, Chertsey, the Schillers moved to Surrey.

Adrian was educated at Kingston grammar school and Charterhouse, in Godalming, Surrey, where he pursued a busy life in stage productions. Instead of drama school, he took a good degree in philosophy (after switching from architecture) at University College London, although he always self-deprecatingly said that he majored in “plays and partying”.

His early television career encompassed series such as Prime Suspect, A Touch of Frost, Judge John Deed and much else, through to the first series of Endeavour in 2013. He also popped up in the Channel 4 series The Devil’s Whore (2008) set in the English civil war, and the Doctor Who story strand The Doctor’s Wife in 2011.

One of his most effective cameos on screen was as the barman in a striking government-sponsored advert in the anti-drink-driving campaign in 2007. He leaned deep into the camera with a series of non-equivocal questions to a bemused, unimpressed young glass-holding customer who may or may not have grasped the seriousness of the interrogation.

But he always returned to the theatre, seeking out the most demanding roles with companies who would accommodate him. He gave an almost ideal Cassius, wirily intellectual while bubbling passionately underneath, said Michael Billington, for David Farr’s 2005 RSC touring version of Julius Caesar. In the title role of Tartuffe at the Watermill, Newbury, in 2006, he was cool and venomous, as well as understated, and clearly the star of the show.

And for Stephen Unwin’s English Touring Theatre in 2007, he rebooted the remorseless villain, De Flores, in Middleton and Rowley’s Jacobean shocker, The Changeling. He was more than notable, too, opposite Sher’s Sigmund Freud, as a vividly hilarious Salvador Dalí, in their great encounter scene in Terry Johnson’s Hysteria at the Hampstead theatre, revived there in 2013, 20 years after its Royal Court premiere.

His feature film credits were not extensive, but in 2014 he was well cast as the sardonic high priest Caiaphas in Son of God, Christopher Spencer’s biblical epic. In Sarah Gavron’s Suffragette (2015), scripted by Abi Morgan, he was an imposing Lloyd George, coming round to the persuasion of the militant vote-seeking women led by Meryl Streep as Emmeline Pankhurst and Carey Mulligan as a fictional worker fuelled by the excitement of change and protest.

His last movie, yet to be released, is Red Sonja, in which he plays the king of Turan in a remake of the 1985 sword-and-sorcery Marvel Comics fantasy.

Back on stage in 2023, he returned to questions of Jewish identity and survival in three short new plays at the Soho theatre and a more substantial Holocaust drama, The White Factory by Dmitry Glukhovsky, at the sparky new Marylebone theatre (formerly the Steiner Hall), in which he was a powerful, wise presence in the story of a survivor of the Łódź ghetto in Poland, played by Mark Quartley, adapting to American life in the Brooklyn of the 60s.

At the time of his death, Schiller – who was also a skilled sculptor and guitarist – had just returned from Sydney and the triumphant international tour of The Lehman Trilogy, directed by Sam Mendes, and had been looking forward to the next leg of the tour in San Francisco.

He is survived by his partner, Milena Wlodkowska, a laboratory support technician, and their son, Gabriel, and by his sister, Ginny, and brothers, Nick and Ben.

🔔 Adrian Townsend Schiller, actor, born 21 February 1964; died 3 April 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[rosepetalsinwinter]

Meant to Be — Bucky Barnes (3)

Chapter 3 — Ceux Qui Rêvent

Pairing: mafia!bucky x innocent!reader

Word count: 6,170

Summary: Nothing is as it seems. A new character is introduced and her life is altered. Can the girl at least find solace in her dreams?

Note: This chapter was a long time coming! The last half is a dream, so the writing is more abstract. Hope it's easy to follow along! Happy reading! &lt;3 <3

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist│Series Masterlist│Series Playlist

Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4

"Alone with thoughts of what should have long been forgotten, I let myself be carried away into the silent screams of delirium."

— Amanda Steele

April 25, 2018

When she was a little girl, she loved to explore her house when it was too hot to play outside. She would hide in the dumbwaiter, scare the unsuspecting maids and cover herself in bubble wrap armour to save her dolls from the horrifying monster who lorded over the living room. There was an adventure to be found in every nook and cranny of the house.

In Vancouver, she had a similar place that helped satisfy her imagination. The Irving K. Barber Learning Centre was a three-minute walk from the bus loop, eight minutes from her Developmental Psychology course and only five minutes from her work. Known as the "Harry Potter Room" for its winding staircase and portrait-plastered walls—it was one of the girl's favourite places on campus, and she often went there to draw. The light streaming from the floor-length windows made it the perfect spot.

It reminded her of home, and while she usually avoided anything related to it, the library in New York held a special place in her heart. Many hours were spent amongst pages detailing great adventures, whether she was fighting Sauron's army on Middle-earth or looking for buried gold in Treasure Island.

It was surprising, then, when it took her a moment too long to recognize her surroundings when she first woke up on a couch, a blanket covering her now-dried form—Dried and clothed.

She shook her head and tried to collect her thoughts. She was on her way to her dorm from the party when... what happened exactly? She remembered salt, the taste of sand in her mouth, and—Oh. Someone had grabbed her. The girl looked around frantically, realizing, with a start, that she wasn't in the Learning Centre as she had initially assumed.

The library was dark, the moon barely illuminating the room in front of her. It gave the space a sinister feel, and she was sure that any second, Lord Voldemort would round the corner with Nagini at his heel and use one of the unforgivable curses on her.

In front of her, however, hidden in the shadows, sat someone far more dangerous than Lord Voldemort; and far more real. The girl had not seen him in five years since she left home and never looked back.

Dressed head to toe in Italian silk, Danial Burgundy sat in a leather armchair in front of the girl, ankles crossed and languidly nursing a cigar. "Welcome home," came his gravelly voice, just as stern and commanding as she remembered.

Home. The word made bile rise in her throat. She was shaking like a leaf and sweating, despite the cold air surrounding her. She fell to her knees on the ground and grabbed the nearest object—an unfortunate potted plant—emptying the contents of her stomach. The sound of her gagging echoed through the large room.

Danial winced sympathetically. "You're a lightweight, I presume?"

The girl closed her eyes to stop the room from spinning, trying to collect her nerves. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and fell back against the couch. Trembling fingers inched the thin blanket back up her shoulders to stop her body from shaking.

"Where am I? What do you want?" Her voice was surprisingly strong, if not a little raspy from disuse and thick from the fear coursing through her body. The girl already knew where she was—there was no mistaking the intricately arched ceiling or the columned walls—but she wasn't sure what she was doing there.

Danial ignored her question, opting to ask one of his own. "Do you realize how much trouble you caused when you ran away?" He didn't sound particularly bothered, only mildly annoyed. "I looked everywhere for you."

"Not hard enough if it took you five years," she murmured, and her snarky remark took them both by surprise. Perhaps the effects of the wine were still running through her body.

Danial gave a short, sarcastic laugh and unbuttoned the top of his suit, loosening his tie. "You are just like your mother."

At the mention of her mother, she couldn't help but whimper. "Where is she?"

Again, Danial ignored her. "You think I'm some fool? Unable to manage my only daughter?"

She shook her head, looking for an opportunity to speak, but her father persisted. "On November 7, 2014, you saw a homeless man in an alley and gave him your coat."

The girl stared. It was cold that day. She herself was shivering under her measly layers, so when she saw an elderly man with only a cardboard box for shelter, she didn't hesitate to give him the clothes off her back. Her dorm was far, and she caught a bad cold that lasted a week, but she never regretted her decision.

"Jace? Was his name Jace? I forget."

"Jason," she whispered, eyes wide with disbelief. "How do you know that?"

Danial laughed humorlessly. "I knew exactly where you were going the second you stepped foot outside of New York. I know that you accelerated your studies and that you took money from my safe. I know all about the week you spent on the streets and how you lied about your age at the shelter."

"No," the girl denied, "that's not possible. I was—"

"What?" her father challenged. "You were careful? Vigilant? Not nearly enough, daughter."

The girl thought of all the contingencies she had so carefully prepared for. Her life was half lived, and for what, when he had found her despite it? "What will you do to me?" she asked.

Danial took a long drag of his cigar, standing up and making his way over to her. "It's not what I'll do. It's what you will do for me."

"I won't do anything for you!" The girl craned her neck to look up at her father. "I want to go home."

He leaned forward and grabbed her chin. "You are home."

Despite her struggle, hot tears still managed to plop down on the carpeted floor. Her lips quivered as she fought the sob threatening to push past her lips.

Danial pursed his lips. "After your brother's passing, I planned to give it all to you."

"I don't want it!" she exclaimed, but her words might as well have been silent because her father completely ignored her.

"I was going to give you everything!" Danial hummed. "Then you left and proved you don't have what it takes."

For the life of her, the girl couldn't understand why her father was telling her all of that. Danial Burgundy owned Manhattan, as well as a sizable chunk of Staten Island. He was a mob boss, using various family businesses as a front for a vast underground smuggling network. He also had many properties all over the world, but she was never inclined toward them.

"George Barnes," her father announced, "is looking to expand."

Indistinctly she recognized the name, having come across it some time in her life. A nondescript shadow flitted through her mind, one with brown hair and an intimidating smile.

"His son is perfect for the job."

The girl frowned when the meaning hit her. Her heart ached at the thought of anyone replacing her brother, even if it was for a less than respectable job. Again, she wondered what any of that had to do with her.

Danial sighed at his daughter's lack of a verbal response. "Eleanor never wanted this for you."

The mention of her mother stopped the girl in her tracks. "What?" she whimpered.

"But I think she would understand at the end of the day that I had no other choice."

"What do you mean?" She was almost afraid to ask.

"George Barnes and I came to an agreement... You are going to marry his son, James."

There was silence, so loud that it would have been unnerving if the girl had not begun to laugh. Her tears came down faster, and she gasped for breath between hysterical sobs and panicked giggles.

"You find this funny, daughter?" Danial asked with a tick in his jaw.

"No," she sobbed.

"No, you don't find this funny?"

"No, I don't want to marry him."

Danial simmered. "Good thing I wasn't asking for your permission then. You will marry James Barnes, daughter."

"I won't marry him," she promised. "I won't! You cannot make me!" There he stood, casually enjoying an imported cigar as her entire world came to an abrupt halt.

Danial merely hummed. "Charming that you think you have a choice in the matter." He sighed deeply. "But I believe you. You get your stubbornness from me."

The girl refused to acknowledge any similarities with her father.

"Dove Myra Rivers," Danial announced after a brief pause. "Pretty name for a pretty girl. Don't you agree? Your mother originally wanted to give you a similar name—did I ever tell you that? But I won in the end, and here we are. It's that stubbornness, you see."

The girl went cold, paling all over, unable to speak or make sense of anything.

"A business major, correct? But you and I both know her real passion lies in music."

The girl's voice was just above a whisper. "How do you know that?"

"She thinks you're at work," he continued, "so she's waiting for you to come home so you can pack up the rest of your things. You were planning to move out over the weekend, weren't you?"

Fresh tears gathered in her eyes as the reality of the situation finally hit her. "No."

"She's very vulnerable right now. Understandable, though, after the night she's had. Wouldn't you say?"

"Father, please."

"If I were her, I wouldn't think to double-check the door—"

"Father."

"—and I definitely wouldn't think to check the coat closet for anybody hiding there."

"Please don't hurt her." Try as she might, all her pleas landed on deaf ears.

"Oh, I don't want to. Believe me." He squat down to her height, elbows on his knees and a solemn expression on his face. "But if you leave me no other choice..." he trailed off, the implication clear.

"No," she whispered.

"Yes," came his reply.

"Father, don't. Please." Her voice shook, and her breath hitched.

"Tell me you will marry him," Danial demanded, confident that he had worn her down.

"No!" she shook her head.

"Tell me!" he shouted. "Now!"

"I don't want to! Please, don't make me."

"I need an answer, daughter."

"I'll do anything else," she pleaded. "Anything but this."

The telltale sound of an incoming call stopped the rest of her ramblings. Danial stood straight and answered his phone. "Ah!" he exclaimed after putting the device to his ear. "She's getting a drink of water from the kitchen. Seems as good a time as any. Won't you say?"

"You don't have to do this." Her voice was a whisper. Fear laced her features. She did not know her father to be a liar.

"Oh, but I do. Tell me, will you behave, or will you make me sin tonight?"

Her body tensed, and she shut her eyes, wanting to disappear. Wanting to wake up only to find that the entire night had been a cruel nightmare. What wouldn't she give for all this to be some dream?

"It will only take one word to seal your friend's fate. Either a "yes" from you, or a "now" from me."

The girl's form visibly deflated, along with her resolve. This was the last thing she wanted. The reason she never let herself close to anyone. Dove had been an anomaly. She came into the girl's life like a storm and whisked her off her feet. Forced her to let some of her guard down and be vulnerable.

She never should have let Dove close to her.

"Don't make me choose for you, daughter. I really rather not."

"Yes," she concurred. There was nothing else to be done. She wouldn't have cared much if only her life was at stake. But she could not put her friend in danger.

"Yes?"

"Yes, I'll do it," the girl said evenly. "I will marry James Barnes."

Danial's lips stretched into a smirk, quirking slightly at the corners. "Leave her be," he spoke into the phone, promptly ending the call. He took another long drag of his smoke, blowing black clouds onto the girl's face. "Good choice, daughter."

The house was just as she remembered it. A sleek pebbled driveway led to large marble columns and an uninviting door. Big and intimidating. For the past five years she had been gone, not one thing had changed. Almost five acres of land that housed her entire childhood stood as arrogantly as it did when it was first erected.

A circular driveway with a fountain decorated the middle, surrounded by grounds on both sides. Trimmed hedges and meticulously placed decorations gave the hundred-year-old mansion a more modern feel. The marble and stone were a welcome contrast to the even older trees lining the property—trees the girl spent the first half of her life climbing with her brother.

The fenced property, where she used to find comfort, was now a cesspool for all the nightmares that followed her from her dreams. She ran away because she didn't feel safe, but now, the adage "time heals all wounds" became blatantly refuted when she felt her heart weep in pain. Cuts that had long since been closed, reopened, and all the feelings she had kept at bay, dreading the moment they resurfaced, came rushing back with such swiftness that she was left winded.

It felt all too real now. The weight of the situation drooped the girl's shoulders. She fought against the hold on her arm, grabbing onto the sofa, but her father's men were huge, and it took only one of them to drag her out of the study.

She dug her feet into the marble of the foyer—anything to delay the inevitable. "No!" she screamed, and her father merely rolled his eyes as if she were some toddler throwing a tantrum. All her efforts were futile.

The inside of the house dripped with wealth. Crystal sculptures and priceless paintings adorned the walls—as if the outside were not blatant enough, and one needed an additional reminder of the wealth the Burgundys had.

There was a time when she was ignorant of her family's wealth. It wasn't until the girl was sleeping on the streets and eating out of dumpsters that she understood how privileged she was—even if it was at the expense of others.

Now, being towed past the white hallway, all the girl could see was red. The blood of all those her family had wronged stained the walls and seeped into the floor.

A portrait decorated the hallway. The girl, her parents, and her brother, fourteen years younger, with bright smiles on their faces. She remembered the day they had posed for it—a week before her brother's birthday, only a month before his death.

He was so handsome.

With a silent sob, she looked away.

At some point, her legs stopped resisting the forward pull, and she let "Barton," as her father called him, take her to the second floor.

When they passed her mother's room, the girl craned her neck to peek in, but was pushed unceremoniously down the hall and through a door before she could see anything of value. It was dark, and she tripped on the carpet, falling to her knees.

Her father's shadow loomed over her, blocking what little light had managed to escape from the hall. "Use the day to rest and get yourself reacquainted," he suggested. "We'll talk tomorrow."

The girl looked down at his feet, glaring at the size ten Italian Leather, wanting—but knowing she could never be courageous enough—to spit on it.

Her father turned to her with one foot out of the door. "And I don't think I need to remind you what's at stake here, do I?"

"You mean, who?" she wanted to retort. Instead, she shook her head. "No."

And he left, locking the door behind him, leaving the girl in complete darkness for the second time in her life.

"Why do you work for him?" she asked the french girl drawing her a bath.

"I needed a job, and Mr. Burgundy needed a maid."

"But don't you know what he does? How dangerous he is?"

Fleur, the french girl, tsked in annoyance before sighing and softening considerably. "Girls," she started in a heavy accent, "who know how to keep their mouth shut are in big demand—strip, chérie."

The girl waited for Fleur to turn away before taking off her clothes and submerging herself in the scalding water. "I kept my mouth shut," she murmured sadly.

From the moment they met, Fleur made it her mission to prepare the girl for her upcoming nuptials. She said nothing when she walked in to find the girl hunched over the toilet seat, sobbing and heaving uncontrollably. She merely squared her shoulders, cleaned the unfortunate mess and sent the girl to rest with a cold pack and a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.

Fleur hummed. "Not tight enough, maybe?"

The girl guffawed, settling deeper into the water. "I guess not."

Despite her rough exterior, Fleur had a soft heart, which was apparent by the sweet names she gave the girl.

"Oh, ma chérie, where were you just now?" Fleur asked as she massaged the girl's scalp with a floral-smelling shampoo. "Dunk." The girl submerged her hair in the water and vigorously shook her head to wash away the suds.

"Nowhere," she distractedly replied when she re-emerged. "Fleur? How did you get to New York all the way from France?"

"Ah! You are curious?" Fleur questioned.

"Oui," the girl nodded.

"Some things are better left in the past. Are you sure?"

The girl said nothing.

"Très bien. I am from Marseille," Fleur began. You know it?"

"Oui," the girl replied. "It's a port city in the south."

Fleur hummed in satisfaction. "I grew up in the... how you say? L'orphelinat?"

"An orphanage?" the girl supplied.

"Oui, orphanage," said Fleur.

"So, you have no parents?" the girl asked.

"I have parents," Fleur said with a nod. "They just did not want me."

"I'm sorry," said the girl.

"Non, don't apologize. Mama wanted me, and Papa didn't. I was a... They were not married. Papa was rich, and Mama was not.

"Dunk," Fleur commanded, and the girl submerged herself in the water, washing away the conditioner.

"I was seven when she gave me to l'orphelinat. I began working as a maid when I turned sixteen and married when I was seventeen."

"Seventeen? But you were just a child!" the girl exclaimed.

"Non," said Fleur. "I stopped being a child long before that. I was a woman when I married."

"But... you're so young!" the girl exclaimed, lightly skimming a finger over Fleur's left hand. "And you don't wear a ring."

"I am twenty-six. That is not too young for me," replied Fleur. "And there is no ring because I am not married anymore," Fleur replied.

"Who was he?" the girl asked after a brief pause.

"The youngest son of the family I worked for, only two years older. He was a writer. Mon Dieu the most beautiful I ever saw. He had a way with words no one else did and made the most beautiful poetry." Fleur's words softened towards the end of her sentence as she became lost in memories.

"Did you love him?" the girl asked with a smile.

"Non, not at all," Fleur replied nonchalantly with a shake of her head. "Maybe in the beginning. He was mean and liked to punch walls. And when drunk, he liked to punch me."

The girl gasped, surprised at the turn Fleur's love story had taken. Her heart hurt for sweet Fleur, who was only a few years older than the girl. "Fleur."

"He kept me secret for many months, until he couldn't anymore." Fleur continued sadly.

"Why couldn't he keep you a secret anymore?" the girl asked hesitantly, though she suspected she already knew the answer.

Fleur began brushing the girl's wet hair with gentleness—the girl suspected—that only came prior to delivering heartbreaking news. "I was almost five months when I found out. He was the first person I told... and the last."

She knew where the story went from there. She just knew. The grief in Fleur's eyes, the deep sadness in her movements, could only hint at a single outcome. "Fleur?"

"Turns out, falling two flights of stairs," Fleur answered, "is very dangerous for unborn babies."

The girl turned her head and kissed the hand near her shoulder, grasping it tightly to provide Fleur with some strength. She could not begin to imagine the grief that came from losing a child. If it were anything close to losing a brother, then she wouldn't wish it on anyone.

"That's when Mr. B—When Mr. Burgundy found me," Fleur continued after a deep breath. "He promised me a job in exchange for my discretion. I've been with him ever since."

The girl absently ran a loofah over her chest and shoulders, taking in Fleur's story, looking for a silver lining. She found none.

"Do you..." the girl hesitated before asking.

"Go on," Fleur encouraged.

"Do you think you will ever love again?" the girl asked meekly.

"Oui," Fleur replied without hesitation. "I will always keep my heart open."

"I don't think I'll ever be in love, Fleur," the girl whispered.

Fleur drained the tub and passed the girl a bathrobe. They entered her closet, filled with clothes she didn't want and wouldn't wear. The girl picked out the least ostentatious pyjamas she could find and made her way to where Fleur was looking out the bay window.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, admiring the expansive trees lining the property.

"I don't want to marry him, Fleur," the girl confessed, internally wincing when her voice cracked.

Fleur sighed and enveloped her in a warm hug. "I know, ma chérie. I know."

April 26, 2018

It was just past three when she opened her eyes with a groan, trying for the past few hours to fall asleep. The sheets were too scratchy, the air too stuffy, and the house too silent. She missed her tiny two-bedroom dorm that she could barely afford, and her neighbour who stayed up late complaining to her mother about her "no good boyfriend who could never keep a job." The girl missed being woken up by Dove in the mornings because she was so tired after her shift that she couldn't make it to her room. Her entire body would ache, but it reminded her that she was real. Alive.

There was nothing to ground her in the empty shell of a house she was now living in.

Her room remained unchanged, with the same floral wallpaper lining the walls and the little dents in the wood that displayed her height throughout the years. All her jewelry, makeup and little trinkets were precisely where she had left them. But she felt restless instead of finding comfort in the little things or revelling in the familiarity.

Her feet carried her towards her door, which she opened slowly, surprised to find no one standing guard outside. A walk ought to clear her mind, she thought, as she perused the hall. The slate flooring was cold under her bare feet, so she walked on her tip toes instead, stepping on bits of soft carpet whenever some appeared.

She stopped outside a familiar brown door with a black handle. Her hand reached for it, but she hesitated. The light was off, and it was late. Her mother must be sleeping, and the girl didn't want to wake her. She could see her in the morning when her father wasn't around.

She continued walking, letting a finger trail the wall as she went downstairs.

The house was silent and eerily so. People always seemed to be hovering around the property when she was younger, taking over the kitchen and the living room, even in the dead of night, when her little feet pattered down the stairs after a bad dream, looking for her "Papa."

She hadn't known back then what the men were there for—she never even asked. Their existence was as normal to her as the simplest of mundane things. She never thought to question it. And so, finding the house empty now brought a chill to her spine. It started from her toes and spilled into her eyes, creating fat droplets.

The girl wiped her face and made her way to the kitchen, using the side entrance to leave. She walked barefoot across the drive, past the fountain and towards the garden, where her mother's azaleas inhabited a sizable portion of the lawn.

Her red azaleas were surrounded by many other of her prized possessions; blue Windflowers, Snapdragons, as well as some daisies and orchids. The girl leaned in closer for a smell. In her proximity, she realized the horrible state of the flowers. They were wilted and weak, drooped disgracefully in front of her.

Her mouth dropped open in shock. Was Eleanor Burgundy aware of the state of her precious garden? Surely not. From what the girl could remember, her mother took a special interest in her flowers and didn't even let the gardener near them. She would wake up before dawn to water them. Then why were they in such a state?

In danger of going crazy from the contemplation, the girl shook away any worrying thoughts and walked farther from the house. Her eyes were obviously playing tricks on her.

"Stop it," she chastised herself when more negative thoughts threatened to invade the silence. She was soon distracted, however, by a large, imposing tree a few minutes' walk from the flower garden.

The girl craned her neck to take in the hefty treehouse perched underneath the canopy of the small forest. There it stood, her adolescent escape, in all its glory, just as it did years ago.

"It's still here?" Her awed whisper lost itself in the wind as she mindlessly grabbed the wooden planks nailed into the tree and hauled herself up. She didn't know if she would fit through the door. Hell, she wasn't even sure if the wood would hold under her weight, but she could think nothing of it as she climbed higher and higher, until she stood up on the balcony-like platform encircling the entire structure.

"One, three, one, two," she whispered, knocking lightly on the wood.

If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear her brother's reply, "Thee may enter," in exaggerated Shakespearean. He always was the more dramatic of the two.

The girl ducked her head to accommodate for the low ceiling and entered, tensing slightly when the floor creaked under her. It was dark, and the only light came from the large window on the right, overlooking the house. She grabbed a flashlight from the table near the entrance giving it a try, not expecting it to work.

With the space suitably illuminated, the girl took in her surroundings. Books piled high in one corner, Beanbags, one blue, one purple, in the other. Mountains of blankets spread all over the floor, with model cars scattered all over.

"Oh, God."

A barbie was sitting in one of the larger cars, and the girl bent down to examine it. She ran the light over the button of the toy car, looking for something. When she found it, she let the car drop from her hands and jerked away from the object.

"No." The girl rubbed her eyes and continued with her exploration. She went to the window and looked out, letting the soft breeze cool her burning face. Her left hand wrapped tightly around the flashlight while her right idly traced patterns on the bottom sill.

Left and right, left and right, she went until her pointer snagged on the edge of something. She bent down to inspect, using the light to find an engraving etched into the wood. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to make sense of it. A pair of initials, surrounded by a jagged heart. B plus B. B plus... She didn't remember carving this, but one of the B's must have stood for Burgundy. And the other? If she hadn't etched this, then her brother was the culprit, and perhaps the second B stood for a friend.

But what sort of friend? A girlfriend? Her brother was only twelve when he... and well, he hadn't ever mentioned a girl to her before.

"What the hell?" The girl plopped down on one of the beanbags, freezing momentarily, before sinking in deeper when she realized it was blue. She needed to come to terms with the possibility that perhaps she didn't know her brother as well as she thought. That, maybe, she didn't know anything.

She pulled one of the blankets up around her shoulders, sighing at the warmth it provided. Slowly, but surely, she felt herself drifting away, felt her eyelids get heavier and heavier as every second passed. The last thing she saw before she became dead to the world was her brother's name, written in black ink on the bottom of a large toy car.

She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't even drink water, not when their chef made her favourite pancakes, not even when her little tummy grumbled and groaned in response. Her mother was worried, though her father was not. She told them she was on a hunger strike until they promised to keep her brother home. It was non-negotiable, she said. She would do it all day, she promised.

She didn't last very long. By lunch, her brother had coaxed her to take "Just a small bite" of the chocolate éclairs their chef made that morning. One bite turned into two, two into three, until the siblings finished the entire batch of éclairs and were sprawled on the treehouse floor, rolling around, giggling, and holding onto their full stomachs.

It was tradition for the Burgundy men to attend Le Rosey, the world-renowned Swiss boarding school. Her brother had finally turned eight years old, and it was time for him to fulfil the family legacy. He would leave home as a little boy and return as a young man, ready to take over his father's business.

And though it was not traditional, as his own sister had stayed home with a private tutor when they were younger, Danial decided to send his daughter to Le Rosey as well. Only, the youngest Burgundy was an impatient little thing and did not want to be separated from her dear brother even for a few days, much less four years.

Nothing her mother said managed to calm the little girl. "He'll visit us during holidays," she promised. "We'll go to Switzerland to see him," she swore. "You'll be so busy with your friends that you won't miss him."

And her mother was right, save for one thing. She never once stopped missing him.

In a few months' time, when her father and brother got in a car on their way to the airport, the girl's five-year-old heart broke at the sight of her older brother, her best friend, through the tinted windows of a Cadillac Escalade. His hand flat against the interior as he looked out at her with a sad frown on his face.

"Take me with you!"

The girl ran with the car as fast as her short legs could carry her before being scooped into the warm arms of her mother, who whispered reassurances into her hair and kissed her tear-ridden face.

Her mother was right. Her brother visited them during holidays, as did they, and though he had changed—became confident and self-assured—he was the same as he had always been. Funny, animated, and oh-so caring. She missed him more every day.

But life kept her busy. Four years passed in the blink of an eye. And if the girl knew the fate that awaited them after her brother's twelfth birthday? She would've appreciated every second more, committed it all to memory.

His frown, the crease between his brows whenever he was concentrating—all his little quirks would've been fresh in her mind. Instead, she felt him slowly wash away like watercolour from between the ridges of her brain.

She could no longer remember his smile.

Her family had just taken a picture together. Mr. Burgundy planned to hand it in the main hallway for everyone to see. Her brother was home for the summer; his birthday was just in a week.

"It's going to be an extra special year. I can just feel it."

"How do you know?"

"You're joining me in September, aren't you? That's how I know."

She had met death that day. Stalking them, dressed as hope and longing, deceiving them with his glamour that all was well; like he hadn't huddled them into a corner, waiting for his chance to pounce. Death was also patient, it seemed.

After the cake cutting, the brother and sister camped out in the treehouse, under a fort of blankets—surrounded by sugary sweets and salty chips—and he told her a story.

She didn't believe him then—How could she? It seemed impossible.

She had laughed at him. "It's a story. It's not real."

"It is a story, but it is real." he shrugged nonchalantly, like it didn't really matter if she believed him. As if it would change the truth. "I knew you wouldn't believe me." And they later passed out from exhaustion, their fingers still sticky with sugar.

Her heart was pounding, and her breath was ragged. Where was she now? Images flashed behind her eyes before slowly settling on one. Something was covering her eyes until it wasn't. Her brother stood in front of her, hands bound and with a smile on his face. Her own features were contorted with fear.

"Believe me now?" he asked.

The girl nodded and blinked away her tears. She did. "I do." The story he told her on his birthday had been true, and confirmed mere minutes ago.

Her brother positioned his knee and lowered his hand in a swiping motion, easily breaking his binds. The girl flinched at the suddenness, but he merely laughed. "Amateurs."

"How did you do that?"

"Le Rosey," he answered, producing a small knife from his back pocket. "I took martial arts there." He released her hands. "You'll learn too when you join me next month. Papa will make you."

Like straight out of a movie, the scene in front of her changed, and darkness surrounded her once more. This time the girl's screams echoed through the room when yet another light shattered. Deafening sounds bounced through the space, making her cry at every movement. A flash of light—illuminating a figure around her—then dark once again.

She clutched her brother's limp body in her small arms, shaking him periodically and willing him to open his eyes. His dirt-ridden face and slack jaw presented themselves to her in the most horrifying manner whenever the overhead light landed on him. Though try as she might, she could not look away.

"Wake up," she told him. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" And for the first time in her life, her brother ignored her, lying limply in her arms as she shook him periodically, willing him to open his eyes.

Someone yanked her. "Let's go!"

"No!" she screamed as loud as her tiny frame could muster. "Not without him!"

"Come on, he's right behind us, kid." And she was whisked away despite her protests. "Pretend it's just a dream."

"It's just a dream," she repeated, covering her ears with her hands. "It's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a dream."

She kept chanting the same thing over and over again, even after the building behind them engulfed itself in angry blue flames. "It's just a dream," after her father grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him as he frantically asked if she was okay. "It's just a dream," while she cowered in the car on her way home. "It's just a dream," as she was rocked back and forth, safe in her mother's arms, but forever without a brother.

"It's just a dream," after she woke with a gasp, wiping her tear-stricken face as reality slammed into her. The girl shuffled around to peer out the bright window at the call of her name.

"Miss!" shouted a guard from the ground. "Mr. Burgundy will see you now."

She shook the lingering remnants of the nightmare away and made her way down on shaky legs. There was no point in beating around the bush. When Mr. Burgundy called, people bent over backwards to answer. And it was her turn.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist│Series Masterlist│Series Playlist

Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! 💜

@sebastianstansqueen @nefri-black @broco8 @writing-for-marvel @speedysimp @thegirlnextdoorssister @lostyx @bbgem329 @pineprincess @vollzeitliebe @hazzasswiftie @bananapipedreams @ng4b20 @veroxbarnes @moonlightreader649 @calwitch @marvelatthetwilight @elizamalfoyy @umadirectioner @littlewhiterose @hallecarey1 @sergntbarnes @nothingbettertosay81 @la--figue @chwlogy @i-could-be-a-great-actor @skuraaa @prettywhenicry4 @candybabysworld @matchat3a @emmabarnes @valkyrie418 @star017 @maebelle-24 @ria132love @vayollie