#Elvira you lucky woman

[embracethemadmess]

Peak Jake Lockley energy

[jadedbirch]

Happy Centennial to La Divina!

December 2, 1923 was a blessed day for that was the day Maria Callas was born. Unmatched as an operatic diva, on and off stage, we are so fortunate to have many of her recordings to remind us of what we lost and for new generations of opera lovers to discover and become entranced with.

And now, the impossible task of picking my own personal top 5 Maria Callas roles.

5. Elvira (in Bellini's I Puritani)

Callas singlehandedly revived the bel canto repertoire and brought Bellini's operas (most not performed since the 19th century) back to the fore. Of all the operas in which La Divina got to excel in mad scenes, I chose this one because essentially the entire opera is one long mad scene for her character - Elvira - a young, Puritan girl who thinks that her beloved has abandoned her on the day of their wedding. Callas somehow finds an entire theatrical range of heartbreaks in this performance, and doesn't stop breaking your heart until the last (surprisingly happy) note of the opera.

Recommended: I would invest in the 1953 EMI studio recording with Giuseppe di Steffano and Rolando Panerai. But while I was fucking around, I also found this 1952 live recording from Mexico, that I'm excited to check out.

4. Leonora (in Verdi's Il Trovatore)

Callas was so famous for singing Verdi heroines, that it is almost impossible to chose one above others. I'm going to buck the trend and NOT choose Violeta from La Traviata, because that would be too easy. After all, Violeta is the focal point of La Traviata, and history has proven again and again that the public is wild for a consumptive courtesan. In contrast, Leonora is perfectly privileged and healthy, she is a lady in waiting to the Spanish Queen, whose one misfortune in life happens to be her questionable taste in men (as is often the case in Verdi's operas). Il Trovatore is known to be a vehicle for the tenor, but a good Leonora can steal the opera from under him, especially in the final act, and Maria Callas easily does just that.

Recommended: EMI's 1956 recording with di Steffano, Barbieri, and Panerai is really to die for. I have no notes! Here's a tasty snack to sample.

3. Medea (in Cherubini's Medea)

Some roles are so mythic that you need someone approaching demigodhood in order to pay them proper homage. Medea may have been a controversial figure in Greek mythology, but also an absolute badass and a powerful sorceress not to be fucked with. Callas imbued her with all the righteous rage that fueled her, but also with a keen humanity and vulnerability. I dare you to listen to any of her Medea recordings and not to come out of the experience rooting for those babies to be stabbed all the way dead. Hahahah just kidding. (Or am I?)

Recommended: Any of her studio or live recordings of Medea are great, but do yourselves a favor and listen to this 1953 LIVE recording conducted by Leonard Bernstein (yes that Bernstein). You will get the chills, I swear to all the gods. HER POWER!!!!

2. Tosca (in Puccini's Tosca)

This was my first complete opera recording that I purchased for what would later accidentally turn into my Maria Callas collection. I have listened to it more times than I care to admit, but in my defense, it was life changing. The way that Callas spits "ASSASSINO!!!" into Scarpia's face during the Act II torture scene. *chef's kiss* I get goosebumps to this day. The recording in question was was 1965, very late in her career, and by some accounts not when she was in her "best voice". But the sheer power of her artistry, the maturity with which every line is sung and acted, her understanding of the character far exceeds her early career interpretations of the same heroine. This was the Callas I fell in love with - the woman who made me realize opera could be about so much more than pretty singing.

Recommended: Lucky you, here's the full 1965 studio recording with Carlo Bergonzi and Tito Gobi. There are some live recordings available now on Youtube from the same year! But if you're looking for a "prettier" sounding Tosca, there's always her 1953 studio recording.

Norma (in Bellini's Norma)

Haha, how predictable, you might say, but listen - why fuck with perfection? Has anyone since her been able to come anywhere even close in this role? Some big names have tried. Some big names never even got the cojones to try. Some have flirted with recording the famous Casta Diva aria alone. But listen - she was incomparable, show stopping, life changing. When I listen to her sing Norma, I feel like I know what it's like to be in the presence of God.

Recommended: Do yourselves a favor and get the 1955 EMI studio recording. Although really any recording of her singing Casta Diva will make you see angels/fairies/unicorns if you haven't already.

[for-science-ao3]

For Science Chapter 3: R.E.M

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41680413/chapters/135273061

Word count: 3.7k

---

Aperture Science Innovators is responsible for most concealed modern-day innovations, namely the creation of a quantum tunneling device, dubbed by test subjects and interns as ’the portal gun/device’. These interns have been fired for calling such an advanced piece of science something as stupid as a gun, and test subjects have been placed on the more advanced testing tracks for teaching the robots of aperture to call it a gun as well.

Aperture thanks you for not being nearly as stupid as those who came before you, and invites you to personally test the Aperture Science Portable Quantum Tunnelling Device.

–

“Elvira Scott. Head of neuroscience. We are here today to consider something our CEO had breached the surface of. The human condition, and how it applies to our robots. Here joining us, we have Assistant administrator of ‘R.E.M’, Michael Stafford” A middle aged woman with graying brown hair sits in the middle of the frame, addressing the camera as she shifts its position on a desk, turned towards the experiment the team would be conducting. A younger man stands not far behind her, gazing down through a glass panel to a room below, similar to that of the testing tracks, if only an observatory room. “Assistant Stafford, do you mind explaining what we’re here to do today?” the woman prompts him, and the man’s head turns a fraction.

“I believe you said it the best we can.”

“Perhaps, but in the event that Aperture’s contingency plan goes into play–”

“Miss Scott, I sincerely doubt these tapes will ever be found by a run-of-the-mill person.”

“Humor me, Michael.” Miss Scott states dryly as she pushes the camera forward, jostling the screen.

“Fine.” The man relents, though he speaks without facing the camera. “It’s a sleep study, sorta. While most sleep studies are meant to diagnose issues with the brain or body during sleep, like apnea, this is meant to study the function of dreaming, how it connects to the human condition–er..study of what makes a life.. How we dream, and how we can use that with the robots.”

“It’s more than that and you know it.” Miss Scott sighs behind the camera, grunting as she stands “This project is sentience. Building it from scratch–”

“Building it from ourselves as the blueprint. Look–should we really be recording this?”

“It’s important to document. For when we succeed. Mr. Johnson will want to see our progress, and how we–”

“Are you going to destroy the tape after we show him, then?”

“...I see no purpose for that rash of a decision. I could learn from my own mistakes.” Her voice is firm and dry as she watches out of the window. Then, she collects her camera into her hands, pressing it to the glass. Below the glass lay a balding man on his back, covered by a white sheet, with a team of three members of staff pulling sheets of paper and documents produced from some machine. 

“We’ve got the physiology team down there. New hires, first test run. Should consider themselves lucky to have such an easy task to start with”

“They have to deal with your temper, not particularly lucky.” Michael drones off screen in apparent disinterest. 

“Well, Michael, I’m doing something to further this company–our tests–”

“Our tests are damaging people in so many–”

The speaker to the tablet is covered, and the conversation is mostly muffled, until it pauses and cuts to Miss Scott being in the room with the sleeping man and the team of three. A powder white room with nothing interesting beyond a stagnant brown ceiling and a set of stairs leading to the observing room.

“So–tell me what’s all going on here.”

“Miss Scott, the subject requested that we not film him–”

“I’ll do as I need for science.” Miss Scott answers. The one young woman of the team blinks,surprised. Elvira continues “So what’s all this for? What exactly are we tracking here?”

“Well–well we all know the human condition. What makes us alive–birth, experience, morality, conflict, death..we can’t legally force a conflict for us to study a human’s brain waves under stress,so..we induce nightmares.”

“And what does that do?”

“It’s a safer way to study a stressed brain–simulated conflict. The subject is unaware when the nightmare starts and ends, and is subdued to prevent waking up before the test is over..”

“Glad to hear it. We’re doing this for the push forwards. Science depends on all of us. You’re new, but you’ll learn to get it.” Elvira sounds pleased.

“Why are we doing this to this man?”

“..We don’t ask why, just do what you’re told.”

–

The video cuts out unceremoniously, and the tablet screen goes dark after a few moments of inactivity while you stare blankly down at the screen. It wasn’t as terrible as you could’ve been expecting, but it was..stunting.

“..We should get a move on, i think..er..shouldn’t let her die,right?” Wheatley grunts, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the endless line at catwalks. He starts walking slowly, ever so achingly slow when you don’t immediately answer. When you set the tablet back down on the floor with furrowed brows, Wheatley starts talking ‘So, after we get her out–which we will,most definitely. Still ironing out all the um..details there, but I've got plenty of ideas to shell out–we’ll even bounce back and forth, maybe? Again–really good to have another voice around, speaking of which, you’re reminding me of her right now.’ 

“Are we really just gonna move past that?” You question as you jog to catch up with Wheatley, who squints, looking ahead of himself.

“See–now that’s difficult. Curveball you’re throwing me, there.” he mutters “‘Cause i know i said it wouldn’t hurt–and it didn’t. But I certainly don’t know what to make of it–and you don’t seem to know what to make of it. So..maybe shelf it? Put it on the ol’ shelf–come back to it when we’re not conducting a good rescue-n-run? Sounds like a good idea to me.”  Wheatley rattles on, and changes the subject away from the video while he leads you through different rooms. He clearly wanted to focus on the task and hand and not fall off track, and you followed his lead.

It would be a better opportunity to ask some questions then, you decide. 

“Do you even know her name? Or her file?”

“Names..names..See, i didn’t check.” Wheatley blinks “Not because I forgot–mind you. I figured–being kind and totally friendly–that I'd let her introduce herself to me. Humans don’t tend to like it when you just already know too much about them from some silly written file.” Wheatley gestures exaggeratedly “This one time–a few years back, I woke this gentleman for annual physical exercise and just checking the whole vitals and all–he was quite upset to know I knew who he was. Nasty fella, that guy.” Wheatley steps through corroding panels and ducks through misaligned panels while he speaks, leading you along with him “So I figured that I'd let her introduce herself. Turns out– immensely brain damaged. Couldn't even say yes, the poor thing.” He shakes his head,sounding something like pitying. 

“Yeah. Poor girl.” you agree quietly.

When Wheatley finally finds an observation room with a computer, he gasps with breath he didnt take. “Here we are! Knew there had to be one around here–”

“Is it accessed by Glados?”

“Shuhs-ush-sh.” The robot shushes you,dismissively waving while he types on the keyboard “See, there’s passwords to just about everything here. Super protective-aperture. You know–”

“Right–”

“But, luckily for us, I am a master hacker. Master of the um..hacking persuasion, as it were.” Wheatley’s voice slowly falls to a simulated mumble while he types away. He pauses, glances at you, and ‘whispers’ “A-A-A-A-A-A..-A” The screen flashes red, and Wheatley hums. “A-A-A-A-A-A..B” Another red flash and you find yourself staring at the back of the robot’s ‘head’, amused. This seems to be going well.

“Master hacker, then?”

“It’s a very complicated procedure,” Wheatley claims quietly while he inputs a few different letter combinations with no success. As much fun as it is to watch him cycle through the millions of possibilities, you had to at least try to speed it up.

“Try something random. First non sequential combination that comes to mind–”

“Yeah–yep. Was going to try that next. Curious as a cat, aren’t you?” he mumbles, waving with one hand “Er..It’s odd. Hovering over my shoulder…still hovering. Just–step back, please?” you’re half convinced he was going to ask you to turn around while he typed “A..F..G-R.E..M” The computer flashes white once, and Wheatley huffs “There we are..”

By that point, you’d taken a step away from the computer, letting the robot handle it, as to not hover. You didn’t even think that you were hovering, but that’s just semantics.

“Good news!” Whatley chirps while he walks away from the computer entirely “And bad news–but the good news is that she’s alive and peachy-keen. Doing well for herself, actually. Maybe a little too well for someone who’s brain damaged, but that goes to show what a team player she is, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does.” you agree while you follow the robot back out onto the catwalks. Some part of you would kill to see the testing tracks just to really see what they looked like “--Hold on. What’s the bad news?”

“Well, as it turns out, Glados does have access to that computer. Or..well, rather the cameras in that test. But, additional good news, you’ll like this one– all she knows is someone accessed the cameras. She doesn't and won't know who. But, additional bad news, the next chamber is going to be a doozy to get to.”

“How’s that?”

“Well…Fancy an elevator override?” Wheatley suggests as he pushes open one of the panels through the completed testing chamber and it was remarkably dark in there. You weren’t traveling blind, as the lights were slowly getting dimmer, but white walls looked gray, and Wheatley quietly walked through the held-open door and through the emancipation grill with you in tow.

“So..elevator override. That’s safe, right?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Wheatley assures as the closed tube wooshed, sending scrap and testing pieces like broken turret pieces, scrap metal and cubes through it. An elevator landed, and you followed the robot into the cramped space. The ride down itself was uncomfortable at best ,leaning your shoulder against the glass despite Wheatley telling you to avoid doing something so dangerous just in case.

When the elevator landed, he led back through movable panels to the catwalks where you continued on this everlasting, achy walk.

The walk was never silent, however. You supposed you were thankful for that. Something to keep your mind busy while you walked after a robot who didn’t stop unless he properly noticed you dragging behind.

“Funny enough, the elevators might be some of the safest parts of these areas,really. The airflow going through them would normally be enough to crush someone of ..yeigh-height” h gestures at roughly your height, and you hum

“Funny.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Wheatley goes on, even while something catches your eye and stops you in your tracks. Immediately after, you were reminded of why you couldn’t stop moving for a moment. The rushing pain up the back of your legs was quite the reminder.

But the core sitting lifeless against a backed in corner of the catwalks was far more interesting than your pain.

Initially, you thought the core sitting along the walls was broken beyond repair, a nasty crack through the outer shell and tears and broken bits from ‘head-to-toe’, but as you and Wheatley walk by, its’ optic opens, constricts, and starts rattling on in a damaged, high-pitched tone “AmAzonian womEn in mythology lived alongside fellow women–BUt there is no suppoRt for the theoRy of The amazons bEing led by saPphos.” Well that was blatantly a wrong fact. It’s spouting mythology, you realize rather quickly. Adding odd Emphasis to different words that didn’t need to, optic gleaming and searching for something.

“I never really thought about just how many of us there are.” Wheatley mutters, staring down at the partially broken robot “Properly disturbing.”

“HUmanity envelops itself in warm suGar flakes and honeyed words”

“See, now even the space-y fellow made more sense than this.” You’d dare to call it pity, but Wheatley aims to walk off away from the robot. “We shouldn’t really..stay long. They’re just gonna keep going. Just…don’t make eye contact.”

Advice that comes far too short as the core stares up at you with a dim optic and babbles “Lovers stand tall and upsIde down, fAlling right-Side up again. Fallen from a toweR of grace to that down below.”

“..Right.” you mutter, perturbed by the core. You could safely say that you weren’t a fan of these interactions. Words that you think could mean something if you really thought about it enough to hurt, but your robotic friend on the other hand, doesn’t seem nearly as interested in whatever a broken core was babbling. 

“It’s gibberish, really. The audio processors don’t function correctly, they pick up things they hear and spew it back in a randomized order. Umm…getting them to say something coherent is like..rigging the lotto.”

“So you talk with broken down cores, then?”

“There are plenty of things I've done before. Don’t do it now, of course, have better things to do like…walk for myself, that’s definitely one. Still getting used to these legs, mind you.” You could swear your mind was melting, feeling that you were just walking through the same room once again, and again, and again while Wheatley talks. Is it distracting or driving you nuts, you surely couldn't tell. 

Another door, another corridor. Another set of black panels, and after muttering to himself, Wheatley stops walking in front of the set and blue and white backings to the panels. A testing chamber, you assume.

Wheatley peers through the panels to the testing track, watching Chell go through a test. Aerial faith plates, which gave you a rough idea of where exactly you were. Not..particularly any closer to getting Chell out. Wheatley watches with sharp eyes as Chell is launched into the air, catches a cube, and lands right on her feet without a problem–other than a slight scowl on her face the moment her back was turned from the cameras.

The robot a pace ahead of you breathes out, and mutters “seems like she’s er..all better. No more brain damage, then.” he squints “Would’ve been quite nice for her to have gotten better sooner but– um..” a glance thrown in your direction and he gets moving “Actually, it’s fine. Things can wait for later–don’t mind yourself with it.” You didn’t need to speculate. That was a fair change of pace, wrong as it was to think. You already knew it pricked him the wrong way about the fact that a brain-damaged woman was fully capable of catching a cube in the middle of being thrown..but couldn't have caught him.

Though you’d argue that this body was a much harder catch than something the size of a sportsball with a couple times the density. But the sentiment remained.

You followed him through the ‘back-stage’ to the testing track, a line of blue and white paneled arms that glowed faintly and shifted every now and then. Following the chambers correctly was a real pain, with individually placed testing chambers that were all separate from one another. Not to mention the height.

“Agh–Okay um..best of interest, no looking at your feet. No looking down just uh..chin up.” was the advice from Wheatley, who would inevitably be unable to resist looking under himself again and breathing out “Again, just reminding you..terrible idea–looking down, that is.”

However there is something about humans and being told not to do something, you glance below your feet at the seemingly endless fog, and breathe out forcibly. 

“Wow–”

“I told you not to look.” Wheatley grunts while he walks along the catwalks just that much faster. You felt the same, desperate to get off of the set of catwalks with nothing below it to catch your fall if anything were to happen.

“Just how far down does this place go?” you mutter”A fall from this height would–”

“Ah, there’s the door” Wheatley interrupts you before you could go filling two minds with the idea of falling miles and miles to the ground below you without anything to catch your fall.

The next room was just about the same as all the rest of them. Yellowing walls leading to another hallway that would either lead to a new set of catwalks, a set of tubes to precariously walk down, or another set of doors. The only interesting thing in the room was a management rail with a stubbed connector hanging down with wires poking out of it.

Wheatley chuffs “Well, look at that! It’s been far too long since I've seen the rails.”

“It’s been less than a day, no?”

Wheatley waves your comment off while he walks towards the rail to investigate. You, on the other hand, lean your back against the wall for a little break. Maybe you would need to stop here at this point. With nothing to really keep you going, energy wise, there was only so much you could do..and to be fair you were unaccustomed to speed-walking after a robot for miles.

Wheatley eyes the management rail with a squinted optic, debating something. Hand on his ‘chin’,debating back and forth in hushed mumbles to himself that you were starting to block out as you rested against a yellow wall, waiting for him to make a decision. 

If you had to guess, it was the decision between leaving a human to their own devices ‘back-stage’ with no guidance, or something perhaps more dangerous than that.

It’s a bad idea, as it turns out. 

“What is it?” you question, resting your hands on your knees while you breathe. The complete lack of rest was just now starting to get to you, creeping in anytime you stopped walking, leaving an awful ache in the back of your calves and a cold burn to your back. It didn’t help any that you’d wager that you were dehydrated.

“Just wondering how much weight a management rail can handle..” Wheatley answers you, a little distantly “I assume, since it could handle two cores…” he turns to look at you, before his expression goes limp altogether, watching you sit down, arms slung over your knees. He stops talking altogether, and you prompt him to continue

“Yeah?”

“Well um..nevermind that, actually. Looking worse for wear..” he blinks “which doesn’t mean anything–no offense there–just not looking your best is all. It’s the walking, isn’t it? See, I don’t get humans, really. Can walk all over the place, sea-to-shining-sea and what-not, but a few chambers tuckers you out.” he squints “Which is odd. May not have the ability to feel tuckered, myself, but it is weird.”

“Weird cool?”

“Certainly not.” Wheatley stands still for a few moments before he joins you in sitting on the floor with a squint, generally uncomfortable. The fluorescent lighting did nothing to help your eyes, staring out to a black wall with the simple wires of the management rail hanging down. “So resting, that is something–obviously humans have to do. So we’ll stop and have a good rest.”

“Right.”

“And that is–as far as I know–typically done in the cover of silence. Silent nights and um..”

“Right on.”

“Right, silence.” Wheatley mutters “Going silent. Stealthy..not a word, not a sound. Just complete and utter silence.”

It lasts, and you almost think you really could rest like this. Wasn't the most comfortable of places, sitting against a wall, but times of desperation come to this.. Some part of you was at least thankful you were in a part of Aperture that had some sort of heating and cooling–

“Silence..the act of complete and utter quiet.”

To think he’d actually be silent for much longer was silly of you to think. You’d play the game and sit there for minutes just to listen to him drone on, so you weren't particularly upset with the constant chatter. In fact, you rather invited it to continue.

“How is it that you know where everything is? What,with not being connected to the system.”

And while you rest your head back with your eyes closed, you listen to the robot ramble on.

“Well– that’s actually–rather surprising you want to know.”

“You seem well-informed.”

“Well-informed? That’s new–um. I’ve had jobs at one point or another in a good chunk of this facility–or otherwise applied for said jobs. Some foremans are not my biggest fan..haven't a clue what’d make them turn me away. I worked as an assistant for a neurotoxin supervisor once. Accidentally hit a few buttons passing by. No casualties–no deaths, but safe enough to say they weren’t pleased with me. Fired on the spot, couldn't be an assistant anymore. Had to take a gander around, found my way to working with maintenance for a little bit. Apparently–i wasn’t told this– the little turret fellows are supposed to be able to see you from something crazy like…60 feet. Didn’t know that– made em blind. By accident, of course! But it’s not like they’d listen to me. Had some choice of nasty words for me–'' Wheatley pauses in his speech, sitting forwards onto his arms as he blinks “That…Actually gives me an idea. When we get the…apparently not-badly-brain-damaged girl, we take out the turrets. If She can’t use them, She won’t have any way to murder either of you, or damage me.” 

Wheatley turns his head to look at you, only to find a human in an immobile, closed-eye state, the only sign of life being the slightest rise and fall while you breathe.

“Right.” Wheatley mutters to himself as he stands up off of the floor “Humans and their rest. Don’t sleep forever, will you? Rather not go through that again” Five times was enough, he’d rather not witness number six and seven before his eye..again.

Wheatley once again finds himself standing in front of the maintenance rail. Grab the proverbial bull by the horns was the saying, wasn’t it?

[foxilayde]

Can you explain to me why the picture of Elvira towering over Abuelo Oscarito is making me so feral that I had to take a lap around the office? Thank you

It’s the drip, it’s the drip, it’s the fuckin BDE

The confidence, hunny. The absolute self assured ness, okay. The short king who appreciates his tall goddess woman. The dynamic is elite. This is a man who knows what he likes. He wears his falditas and lives free of arbitrary bs and knows that when his woman is glowing it just makes him that much better, you know? It’s so hot because hers is the only opinion that matters to him and that’s exactly as it should be. He radiates That’s my wife energy. “Yes bby wear the bun on top wear the big sexy boots you look hot AF lets make out in the limo actually, I don’t even want to go to this thing but you look stunning it’d be a crime not to show you off, promise you won’t leave my side I don’t want to be away from you for a minute. yes I know if we keep making out we’ll miss the red carpet but we’ll sneak in the side door for the awards, did I mention how gorgeous you look?” typa energy yk it’s so mouth watering. He truly acts like he’s ‘the lucky one’ in the relationship and he doesn’t have to, you know, he’s hot and talented enough to be a fucking shitbag and never face true ostracization for it. But no, he’s a family man and they started a production company together?? Named after their KIDS?? Hello??? Like, that takes a lot of love and respect to trust someone creatively like that and to ENDEAVOR to spend that much time together professionally?? Fuck, dude. It’s just hot. It’s so much love, respect, and beauty contained in one couple and it’s too much to witness honestly and that’s probably why you had to start running at work.

[thefifthsister]

Halloween prompt 14!!

CHB '22 #58: Scar Tissue

Post Series

She's staring in the mirror, turning back and forth, pulling her dress and he can't help but hurt for the look on her face. He's never seen her look so unconfident. Not his wife. The woman that commands the attention of everyone as soon as she enters a room, standing tall on her ridiculous power heels, all power and grace and attitude. His badass. His love.

He wraps his arms around her.

"Is this costume too revealing?" She asks. He remembers many times when she's asked him that. A hint of lust, of teasing, of promises in her voice. Now he hears insecurity.

"You look absolutely beautiful," He assures her.

"I was going for sexy," she tries to smirk but he still sees it, the critical look she's giving herself. The scars she never really got a chance to adjust to, the way her body has been changed by bullets and birth.

"You are so stunning. I walk into a room and all I see is you. I wonder how I got so lucky. This costume is amazing."

He kisses her neck, hands roaming up to her cleavage until she's laughing at batting her hands away.

"Elvira, be still my heart," he murmurs. "You know, if Alexis has Lily for the night, we could just hit the hotel early."

She smiles at him. And he knows he's hit his mark. "You promised me dancing. To some other than nursery rhymes. But we will definitely make use of the hotel room." _________________________ Prompt: Is this costume too revealing?

[kismutt]

 the  continent  welcomes  ELVIRA  KACHRYLION  of  the  WINTER  COURT ,   the  LADY  of  THE  WINTER  COURT .   when  the  HIGH  FAE  is  glamoured,  she  bears  a  resemblance  to  MILLY  ALCOCK .   the  TWENTY - THREE  /  201  YEAR  OLD  cis  woman  is  reputed  to  be  ENIGMATIC  and  CIVIL ,   but  a  decade  of  war  has  left  them  GLACIAL  and  CAUSTIC .  whispers  throughout  prythian  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  THE  WINTER  COURT ,   where  they  conspire  to  KEEP  WHAT  REMAINS  OF  HER  FAMILY  IN  TACT,  NO  MATTER  THE  COST. 

YOU  WILL  COME  TO  SHOULDER  FAR  HEAVIER  TRUTHS ... 

cw:  murder tw,  child neglect tw

iii.  biography  

there  was  little  love  lost  when  the  high  lord  slayed  your  father.  you’d  always  wondered  if  there  would  be  -  if  at  the  end,  after  everything,  you  might  feel  something  other  than  ice  for  the  man  that  sired  you.  perhaps  you’re  just  broken,  the  way  you  let  the  grief  slip  off  your  shoulders.  perhaps  he  really  did  break  you  ....

born  fourth  in  your  lineage,  you  came  out  of  the  womb  a  disappointment.  three  brothers  preceded  you  -  and  the  high  lord  of  the  winter  court  thought  himself  very  lucky  indeed.  to  have  sired  so  many  sons  -  gone  so  many  centuries  without  a  daughter :  the  cauldron  must  have  neglected  to  bless  you,  little  fae.  your  mother’s  womb  must  have  dried  and  shrunk.  maybe  you  were  meant  to  be  bear  food ? 

high  lords  are  calculating  creatures,  with  crowns  of  ice  and  mouths  full  of  blood.  that’s  how  you  always  saw  them  anyway.  your  father  very  rarely  deigned  to  speak  with  you.  it  was  your  mother  who  named  you,  who  swaddled  you  when  you  were  too  small  to  swaddle  yourself.  but ladies  grow  tired  of  children,  too :  especially  ones  that  can’t  seem  to  stop  crying,  can  never  seem  to  warm.  your  wet  nurse  tells  you  her  earliest  memories  of  you  are  all  chill  -  the  lesser  fae  made  of  ice  itself  was  afraid  to  hold  your  pale  form.  thought  you  might  starve.

you  aren’t  sure  when  your  mother  was  executed.  you  just  know  it  happened,  feel  it  in  her  absence  in  the  echoing  mountain  home.  no  one  liked  to  whisper  about  your  father’s  decisions  -  these  hills  have  eyes.  you  shoulder  the  fact  that  it  was  your  fault,  that  your  existence  as  a  girl  was  enough  to  end  her  life.  you  will  come  to  shoulder  far  heavier  truths. 

when  your  father’s  men  dropped  you  in  the  wood  as  a  child,  you  felt  you  were  being  tested.  that  if  you  could  survive  this,  you  would  earn  your  worth  in  the  palaces  and  frost.  you  were  naive  -  to  think  you  would  ever  matter  to  your  father.  to  think  you  were  meant  to  survive  at  all.  everyone  knew  how  cold  you  always  were,  had  always  been;  but  you  were  still  young.  didn’t  see  the  weakness  everyone  else  saw  in  you. 

though  you  remember  little  of  your  time  trudging  through  the  evergreens,  you  will  never  forget  what  it  revealed  to  you.  freezing  to  death  is  its  own  brand  of  hysteria.  it  felt  like  eons  and  it  felt  like  minutes,  crawling  in  what  very  well  may  have  been  circles.  small.  fragile.  lost.  you  learned  that  tears  freeze  to  your  face  like  makeup.  you  learned  that  sometimes  snow  feels  like  fire.  

cauldron  blessed  is  what  your  wet  nurse  calls  you  when  you  return  on  the  back  of  a  reindeer.  incurable  plague  is  what  your  father  corrects  later,  in  front  of  a  great  hearth.  you  let  them  wonder,  having  made  more  than  one  vow  in  your  time  away.  to  never  cry  again.  to  secrecy :  the  family  of  high  fae  that  heard  your  cries  and  thought  you  to  be  an  injured  fox.  that  warmed  you  in  their  isolated  home  until  your  teeth  stopped  chattering  and  you  could  remember  your  name.  that  sacrificed  their  only  reindeer,  so  you  might  make  it  home.  

you  spend  most  of  your  formative  years  amongst  the  high  priestesses.  you  think  you  might  even  long  to  join  them :  to  veil  yourself  in  cloaks  and  never  feel  cold  or  alone  or  too  womanly  again.  little  nomad,  all  you  wanted  was  a  place  to  feel  safe.  were  it  not  for  your  brothers,  you  might  never  have  even  came  home.  

time  in  the  mountain  home  felt  like  capture.  when  you  were  lucky,  your  father  left  you  alone.  he  resented  the  way  your  face  never  changed,  the  stoic  armor  you  crafted  on  your  own.  he  often  delighted  in  putting  out  the  fires  that  kept  you  warm,  your  shivering  the  only  sign  he  could  hurt  you.  the  threats  to  marry  you  off  to  the  court  of  nightmares,  to  the  king  in  hybern  -  empty  promises  but  enough  to  bring  their  own  chill.  you  dreaded  the  day  he  might  finally  find  a  way  your  existence  could  benefit  him.  he  sharpened  you  up,  left  you  to  freeze  again  and  again. 

the  war  began  before  you  were  even  two  centuries  old,  and  you’d  never  seen  wrath  like  your  father’s  then.  you  never  truly  knew  how  much  he  delighted  in  torment.  your  future  fell  dark  in  that  decade.  you  sat  at  your  father’s  side  sometimes  when  he  decided  fates.  you  swallowed  your  disgust  like  acid  and  bile.  you  didn’t  think  much  of  mortals  before  the  war.  knew  your  eldest  brother  thought  of  them  too  often.  saw  how  it  tortured  him.  resented  them  a  bit  for  that  alone.  you  didn’t  know  --   you  didn’t  know.  you’d  never  seen  something  so  fragile,  clinging  to  mortality.  felt  like  a  reflection  of  the  way  you  saw  yourself.  

....  there  was  little  love  lost  when  the  high  lord  slayed  your  father.  you’d  always  wondered  if  there  would  be  -  if  at  the  end,  after  everything,  you  might  feel  something  other  than  ice  for  the  man  that  sired  you.  perhaps  you’re  just  broken,  the  way  you  let  the  grief  slip  off  your  shoulders.  perhaps  he  really  did  break  you.

[blackbird-brewster]

Getting to Know Me(me)

Found my original in my archives and thought it'd be fun to update this one! Original answers from 2015 >> New answers in 2023

Name: Kit  Age: 26 35 Persuasion: Homoromantic demisexual Queer Location: USA Aotearoa 10 Facts: 1. I have 25 35+ tattoos 2. I'm a full-time writer 3. I am on Tumblr more than I should be (still true) 4. I can get through the entirety of 'Fifty Nifty United States' in one breath 5. I have multiple mobility aids and they all have names. Cane: Elvira, Walker: Christopher Walkin', Wheelchair: Wheelie Boy 6. My partner (Doom Them) and I are the penultimate example of queer domestic bliss 7. I met some of my best friends through Tumblr! 8. I can solve a Rubik’s Cube in under 3 minutes (still true) 9. I used to be a professional actress (Still true) 10. I have travelled to 17 20 countries

9 Fandoms:

1. Criminal Minds 2. Doctor Who 3. X-Files 4. Bones Critical Role 5. Fringe 6. Community Dimension 20 7. the L word Warehouse 13 8. Legend of the Seeker 9. SVU Xena

8 OTPS:

1. OTP: Blackbird (JJ x Emily - Criminal Minds) 2. OTP: Burning Up a Sun (Ten x Rose - Doctor Who) 3. OTP: How Long? (Olivia x Alex - SVU) OTP: I Thought We'd Get Lucky (Tara x Emily - Criminal Minds) 4. OTP: I want to Believe (Mulder x Scully - X-Files) 5: OTP: Fringe With Benefits (Peter x Olivia - Fringe) OTP: It'd Be With You (Thirteen x Yasmin - Doctor Who) 6. OTP: I think you’ll know (Callie x Arizona - Grey’s Anatomy) OTP: Science Wives (Sam x Janet - Stargate SG1) 7. OTP: Blood and Battle (Lagertha x Ragnar - Vikings) Let's Go Steal an OT3 (Parker x Eliot x Hardison - Leverage) 8. OTP: Oatmeal (Holt x Kevin - B99) OT3: Je T'Emily (JJ x Emily x Tara - Criminal Minds)

7 Books:

1. Harry Potter Series by JK Rowling Heartstopper by Alice Oseman 2. Hunger Games Series by Suzanne Collins Wonder Woman Graphic Novels (Greg Rucka, Gail Simone) 3. Anita Blake Series by Laurel K Hamilton Nevermoor Series by Jessica Townsend 4. The Missing Piece by Shel Silverstein 5. The Witches by Roald Dahl Tiny Beautiful Things by Sheryl Strayed 6. Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams 7. Bones Series by Kathy Reichs Gender Failure by Ivan E. Coyote & Rae Spoon

6 Foods:

1. Pizza 2. Protein Shakes Mac and cheese (Kraft blue box) 3. Hummus Strawberry Poptarts 4. Peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches 5. Cookies and Cream ice cream 6. Tacos

5 Things You Can’t Live Without:

1. Coffee 2. Netflix 3. My Phone 4. Music 5. Fanfiction * No changes from 2015 to 2023

4 Life Goals:

1. Finish school for Forensic Anthropology Find joy and contentment in all I do 2. Study abroad Fly my friends to Aotearoa for a visit 3. Visit every continent 4. Publish a novel (<<did it!) Live authentically, without regret

3 Characters You Relate To:

1. Temperance Brennan Thirteenth Doctor 2. Emily Prentiss 3. Jean Grey / Phoenix  Fox Mulder 2 Quotes:

1. Why waste your life being normal? 2. The entire poem of Invictus Be gay, do crime 1 Selfie (If you want):

2015 vs 2023

 Not tagging anyone, this one was completely self-indulgent so I could have the update in my archive <3

[casspurrjoybell-20]

Sky Twizzlers - Chapter 8b

*Warning Adult Content*

Vampire Kidnapping. Vampnapping? - Part 2 - Evander 

I looked to the left to greet my savior. 

"Elvira," I breathed, my voice scratchy.

The woman stood up, brushing away the invisible dirt on her elegant red dress. She walked over, looking at Aaron since he was on that side. 

"The moment I brought you upstairs, these two began fussing over you. I must've woken them up by accident."

"I'm not surprised," I said with a small laugh.

"You never told me you found mates. Should I not be one of the first you tell? I'm your sire, Evander. Even if you are no longer a fledgling, you are still under my care. I love all of my little doves."

"I'm sorry. It was a recent development and we had other more pressing matters," I explained, feeling guilty.

I hadn't seen my sire in almost a decade. She spent most of her time traveling the world or remaining in Spain, her original home. Elvira was like a mother to me. She'd been the one to turn me over a century ago and took care of me for the first few years so I could learn to control my new body and the sudden bloodlust that was uncontrollable for most fledglings. I was extremely lucky that she had been in town, let alone nearby. 

"Were you following me?" I asked her, wondering how she'd been able to rescue me.

"No. I stopped by the center and Arlo mentioned you coming by a few minutes ago. I planned on catching up with you when I heard the gun go off."

I was slightly surprised the cops hadn't been called on us. If the humans had heard the gunshot, they would've panicked, right? Perhaps there had been no one around but it seemed so unlikely.

"You're lucky you just fed. Your body's healing is very slow right now. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't replenished your strength before facing those men," Elvira said, shaking her head slowly.

"I am lucky," I agreed. 

"But it was my fault I was shot at. I got cocky."

My sire was about to speak again when Aaron shifted around beside me. The werewolf blinked his eyes open, brushing away the hair in his face. He sat up and my eyes immediately went to his exposed skin from my shirt sliding out of place against his slightly smaller frame. I don't know why but the sudden urge to lean in and take a bite consumed me for a brief moment. I just ate, so I didn't understand why my bloodlust was still so high. Maybe the bullets took more out of me than I first thought.

"Evander," Aaron said, his voice groggy from sleep.

"Yes?"

I found this sleepy Aaron to be kind of cute. Aubrey was always cute but from what I'd seen of Aaron, he tried his best to come off as the opposite. Maybe it was a werewolf thing. Either way, his efforts seemed to fail half the time. It was strangely endearing.

"Are you okay? You were... bleeding," he said, more awake now.

His brow pinched with worry as he glanced at my shoulder before his eyes trailed down to my leg covered by the blanket.

"I'm much better. Don't worry. You should go back to sleep," I answered.

He shook his head before pushing his hair away from his face again. 

"No, I don't think I can go back to sleep again."

Now that I got a closer look at him, he seemed to be worried but not just about me. 

"What's wrong?"

He sighed, offering a tight smile. 

"I'll explain later when we meet with my group."

"Evander, you don't plan on leaving your apartment today, do you?" Elvira piped up, her motherly tone making me wince.

"We planned to," I said.

You need to rest! Your body is not done healing and I think we might need to get you some more blood. I can see how dark your eyes are from here," she explained, shaking her head.

"Where do I get blood, though? I can't go back to the coven center if those people followed me from it," I pointed out.

"I'll bring you a couple of bags," Elvira answered with a wave of her hand. 

"You need to focus on healing. No going out today."

Aaron sighed. 

"I'll call my group," he said, sliding out of bed.

"I'm sorry, Aaron," I found myself apologizing.

He shrugged. 

"No need to apologize. Not your fault some jerkwads decided to try and kidnap you."

He slipped past Elvira to head downstairs, probably to call his group in private. I sighed, looking up at the ceiling. 

"I don't understand why they decided to attack me. They knew I was a vampire already, too," I spoke up.

"Perhaps they were hunters. You don't usually see them in cities but they do exist," Elvira suggested.

"Maybe. They didn't have any scent. Might be a hunter tactic," I mused.

"Wait, they had no scent?" Elvira echoed.

I turned my head to look at her. Her face was drawn into a worried frown. 

"Elvira?" I asked, wondering why my sire looked so concerned.

"There was a reason why I was stopping by the center. Some elders gathered today to discuss something," she admitted.

"What do you mean? Is something going on?" I asked.

"In Europe, there have been some reports of agitations amongst some non-human groups, specifically the shifter groups. The dragons were involved, as well."

My chest tightened. The dragon shifters were elusive and rarely got involved in the affairs of the non-human world. They opted to stay in their own realm most of the time. Some chose to live among the humans like other groups did but they were even harder to find. My mind immediately drifted to him. Was that where he went? Europe? Or was he doing something else? I couldn't help but be a little concerned now. 

"What exactly is going on?" I asked my sire, wanting to know more.

"A group of people we've labeled as fanatics are reported to be attacking shifter groups but they are all scentless. We've noticed they have focused their attacks on werewolf packs but they've begun branching out to other shifter communities. Dragons were seen leaving their realm within the same timeframe, too. We don't know what they are doing or whether they are directly involved in these attacks but their movements are suspicious nonetheless," Elvira explained.

This wasn't good. This group of fanatics... they sounded like the cult Aaron and his people were dealing with. Was this all somehow connected? I hoped there wasn't any connection between the groups. If so, then this issue was a lot bigger than a few packs in one country, it could mean an inter-species conflict that could reach across the globe.

[those-rude-interruptions]

what am i listening to today? (8/30)

the 1

the lakes - bonus track

this is me trying

illicit affairs

invisible string

epiphany

peace

seven

mad woman

betty

hoax

the last great american dynasty

my tears ricochet

mirrorball

exile (feat. bon iver)

august

death by a thousand cuts

august

willow - dancing witch version (elvira remix)

carolina - where the crawdads sing - video edition

the joker and the queen (feat. taylor swift)

cruel summer

the archer

i think he knows

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

cornelia street

death by a thousand cuts

august

better than revenge

state of grace (taylor’s version)

red (taylor’s version)

treacherous (taylor’s version)

i knew you were trouble (taylor’s version)

all too well (taylor’s version)

22 (taylor’s version)

i almost do (taylor’s version)

we are never getting back together (taylor’s version)

stay stay stay (taylor’s version)

the last time (feat. gary lightbody) (taylor’s version)

holy ground (taylor’s version)

sad beautiful tragic (taylor’s version)

the lucky one (taylor’s version)

everything has changed (feat. ed sheeran) (taylor’s version)

starlight (taylor’s version)

begin again (taylor’s version)

the moment i knew (taylor’s version)

come back... be here (taylor’s version)

girl at home (taylor’s version)

state of grace (taylor’s version)

ronan (taylor’s version)

better man (taylor’s version) (from the vault)

my tears ricochet

nothing new (feat. phoebe bridgers) (taylor’s version) (from the vault)

babe (taylor’s version) (from the vault)

message in a bottle (taylor’s version) (from the vault)

afterglow

august

i bet you think about me (feat. chris stapleton) (taylor’s version) (from the vault)

[collectorscorner]

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[aion-rsa]

Scarface: Where Tony Montana Went Wrong

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“All I have in this world is my balls and my word, and I don’t break them for no one,” Tony Montana declares in the 1983 gangster classic, Scarface. Yet Al Pacino’s antihero breaks both in his quest for money, power, and women. And just as he is on the brink of winning the trifecta, he is blown away like so much dust up a nose.

Did he lose because the Cuban mobster didn’t heed the advice of his first crime boss? Or is it because he just couldn’t stand to see his sister and his best friend wearing his-and-her pajamas? In truth, Montana’s fall can probably be traced back to when he learned to speak English by “watching guys like Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney.”

Directed by Brian De Palma, and written by Oliver Stone, Scarface is a remake of Howard Hawks’ vastly influential 1932 mob movie, so Montana’s explosive descent was preordained. Tony Montana continued Pacino’s run of criminal icons, which included Sonny in Dog Day Afternoon and the ultimate crime family head, Michael Corleone in The Godfather films. The actor supplanted Paul Muni’s Tony Carmonte as the recognizably scarred face of the title role. Pacino would go on to play Carlito in Carlito’s Way and Lefty in Donnie Brasco, but while each hoodlum brings a new facet to his rogues gallery, none of his gangsters ever achieve their ultimate desires. They almost all reach dizzying heights, and everyone of them sees the dream slip through their fingers. Still, Montana experiences perhaps the greatest fall of all.

The original 1932 film took place during Prohibition when crime was a viable means of survival. De Palma’s adaptation happens in the Reagan era, a time when lucky opportunists could get their lips around the spigots of cash before it got a chance to trickle down. Tony’s economic theory is much more succinct: “You know what capitalism is? Getting fucked.”

Scarface is a rags-to-riches-to-self-destructive fireball story, and nothing succeeds like excess. Montana’s first crime boss in America, Frank Lopez (Robert Loggia), has weathered the climate change from President Carter to the Gipper, and warns Tony to never “underestimate the other guy’s greed.”

In the original Howard Hughes production, Tony was an immigrant from Italy. In the Cold War era film, Montana is a refugee from Cuba. Their shared first mistake is to believe in the American Dream.

The World Is Yours

These words are flashed in both films and hit each of the two criminal aspirants as hard as the “give me your tired, poor, and hungry” promises carved under the Statue of Liberty. Scarface opens shortly after the Mariel boatlift, the 1980 exodus which followed Cuba’s economic crash. Montana seeks asylum, telling immigration officers he is a political prisoner who doesn’t agree with his country’s politics and owns nothing under communism. He says even American prison is better than his life on the Caribbean island. The officers note his criminal past, the telltale tattoo on his arm, and the scar on his face, which despite their insults was obviously not caused by oral sex.

In exchange for a Green Card, Montana and his friend Manny Ribera (Steven Bauer) assassinate Gen. Emilio Rebenga, who tortured the brother of the crime boss Lopez. Tony settles in sunny Miami. And when he gets out of the kitchen and into the heat of crime, he hits the ground running. “The World Is Yours,” after all. All you have to do is take it, and Montana has both hands out.

Frank warns his protégé, “The guys who last in this business are the guys who fly straight – lowkey, quiet; and the guys who want it all – chicas, champagne, flash – they don’t last.” But Montana is a meteor, bound to burn up in the atmosphere. He gets caught on the orbit of Alejandro Sosa (Paul Shenar), agreeing to supply cocaine from Bolivia independent of the other drug lords. Within a few years, Montana is doing so well, the feds target him for tax evasion.

Tony’s Betrayal of Frank Lopez

Montana’s betrayal of Frank Lopez is crucial to his downfall. Frank is the father figure who initially took a chance on Tony. He let him rise through the ranks, even as he tried to bite off more than he could chew. Frank’s biggest mistake is not making sure his underlings follow his sage advice. He also ignores one of his own commandments. Lopez underestimates Montana’s greed. He trusts Tony to accompany his trusted second-gun Omar Suarez (F. Murray Abraham) to Bolivia to meet with Sosa, and continues to let Tony operate after the druglord hangs Suarez from a helicopter.

The deal Montana makes behind Frank’s back is a major step toward the fall. The vow Tony takes never to betray Sosa ultimately leads to the last splash. Montana breaks his word to both of these men, and they bust his balls as a result. When Tony returns to Miami, Frank is suspicious over Omar’s death and his returning soldier’s independence. As Montana begins to build his own cocaine empire, Frank orders a professional hit.

For gangsters, the only good cop is a bad cop, and it is advisable to grease the wheels which move crime. Mel Bernstein (Harris Yulin) demands his take early in the film at the Babylon Club, which has the perfect cocktail napkins for bribery notes. Bernstein was willing to overlook the murders of Rebenga, “Hector the Toad,” and “that bloodbath at the Sun Ray Hotel.” Tony should have taken him at his word when the cop said he could clean up Tony’s Lopez mess.

Before Tony eliminates Frank, he is hungry. The money and drugs are not a distraction. After he begins to accumulate power, he lets his public profile rise and indulges in conspicuous consumption. Montana keeps a chained-up tiger in front of his compound just to let everyone know how powerful he is. There are real life precedents for this. Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar imported hippos for his private zoo. Brooklyn mobster “Crazy” Joe Gallo kept a pet lion named Cleo in the basement of his headquarters. The scenario was also probably inspired by Miami’s most notorious drug lord, Mario Tabraue, whose predilection for wild cats was featured in the Netflix documentary Tiger King. But the most conspicuous acquisition Montana leveraged cut Frank the deepest.

It’s always a mistake to go after the boss’ girl. James Cagney’s Tommy Powers knew this in The Public Enemy (1931). James Woods’ Maximillian “Max” Bercovicz skirts this in Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in America (1984). Montana sets out to steal Frank’s trophy wife, Elvira Hancock (Michelle Pfeiffer), from the moment he lays eyes on her, though he waits for the height of his reign to claim her. He does it as much to emasculate his former boss as he does it out of desire. It’s a betrayal equal to having Manny whack Frank while he pleads for his life.

The new couple is married by 1983, but with a marriage always on the rock.

Don’t Get High on Your Own Supply

Montana’s downfall is aided, abetted, but most of all mirrored in his descent into addiction. He probably took his first sniff from Elvira’s stash, but even as Montana bemoans, “I got a junkie for a wife,” he doesn’t get wind of his own problem. “Another Quaalude, and she’ll be mine again,” he reasons as the trophy wife climbs off the pedestal and up on a shelf.

Montana is in deep drug denial when Elvira leaves him after he openly complains she can’t have children because she is polluted with the yaya he’s been peddling. He should at least entertain the notion when she openly wonders if he would even be alive to raise their child.

In American Gangster, Denzel Washington’s Frank Lucas knows enough not to dip his nose into the supply. And while Pacino’s slide into the junkie aspects of his character is physically more subtle than Ray Liotta’s bug-eyed Henry Hill in Goodfellas, the results are just as devastating. When Montana was crushing the competition and bagging the Sandman, he had discipline. His mind gets muddled as his drug use spirals out of control. He makes rash decisions, dips into schizoid delusions, and succumbs to white powder paranoia. He can’t see his way through the haze to find alternatives. He walks right into the undercover cop’s money laundering bust.

The drugs dull his instincts. If Tony wasn’t high at the security command center, he would have seen Sosa’s soldiers encroaching his compound over the cameras. He had 10 bodyguards on the property, he could have positioned them defensively. The only thing his ultimate hit man is hiding behind is a pair of killer shades. He never should have been able to sneak behind Montana’s back. Tony also wouldn’t have gotten rid of his most trusted weapon.

Over and Underestimating Little Friends

Tony Montana’s right-hand man would have been the best, first defense against the Sosa attack. What Tony does to Manny Ribera is his worst action. The two are virtually brothers. Their bond goes beyond being partners in crime, it tightened in the “Freedomtown” concentration camp, and solidified in the Miami chainsaw massacre. It is because Manny is Tony’s most trusted soldier that he will never be good enough for Tony’s sister Gina (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio). Tony’s saving grace is he believes he is doing all this to ensure a better life for his sister. Gina is supposed to represent the innocence he sacrificed, but she is also an unattainable sin.Tony’s mother doesn’t try to separate her children merely because her daughter might be swallowed in the criminal life; she is curbing what she sees as Tony’s unnatural urges. 

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Even if Tony doesn’t see Manny as a rival for his sister’s affections, he still sees him through the eyes of a fellow criminal, and a womanizing one at that. Tony is just like his mother, who rejects him. Tony brands his friend, and ultimately seals his fate with it.

The problem is Ribera wasn’t made to be a gangster. He is a loyal and efficient consigliere and soldier for Tony’s crew, but he would have been happier slapping his name on knockoff designer jeans. Besides the bubbling incestuous tension exacerbated by the coke haze, Tony doesn’t want to see his best friend happier than him, and denies Gina a real chance at the happiness he wants for her.

It’s the one thing Tony can’t buy for her. Gina and Manny fully expect Tony to be thrilled by their marriage. They were going to surprise him with the news. Tony’s incestuous protectiveness speeds his downfall. He murders Manny as a punishment. Gina is shot by Sosa’s men. Montana loses the two most important people in his life, and his inability to control his lusts destroy them all.

“Say Goodnight to the Bad Guy”

The biggest contributory factor in Tony’s downfall is his humanity. In The Godfather, Sonny Corleone advises his brother Michael not to take things too personally in business. When Lopez gives Montana the mission of delivering a bundle of cocaine to Columbian dealers, the rising mobster takes things very personally. The deal goes bad when Montana’s friend Angel Fernandez is murdered with a chainsaw in a scene so aurally graphic (watch it again, there’s no violence shown, only heard), it almost got the film an X rating.

It was allowed in the film in the name of education, Stone pointed to a DEA report which detailed the exact scenario. Tony teaches the Colombians a lesson in humanity. Not content with leaving with the cash and the coke, he kills every single gang member who had anything to do with Angel’s death.

Tony also lets his conscience be his guide when he’s working the GPI on a hit. Faced with serious jail time for his tax evasion arrest, he makes a deal with Sosa, who is also under fire. Montana agrees to fly to New York and assassinate a journalist before he can give a speech on Sosa’s organization. A bomb has been planted in the journalist’s car, and Tony is in charge of tailing until the perfect detonation point. But when Tony arrives on the scene to assassinate the journalist, he notices the man’s wife and children are with him. Montana not only breaks his word, the promise to protect his powerful partner, but he murders Sosa’s right hand man, Alberto, rather than kill the children playing in the back seat.

“I Always Tell The Truth. Even When I Lie.”

Tony Montana may have been the ballsiest and most charismatic of his machismo mob, but he wasn’t the brightest. He acknowledges his intellectual shortcomings, “I come from the gutter,” he admits. “I know that. I got no education, but that’s okay. I know the street.” But he doesn’t read signs. He can’t tell a freeway from a dead end. Frank Lopez may be a blowhard, but his words of wisdom could have been carved in the cement. 

All the concrete Tony brags about has gone to his head, making his skull thicker than Pacino’s accent. Montana is brash and unbending, narcissistically adherent to only his own advice, and his own worst counsel. His anger blinds him, the battery is running low on his foresight, and he’s so flashy his enemies can see him coming from miles away. And he can’t see them when they’re standing close enough to breathe on the back of his neck. 

Final Massacre

Of course the most obvious reason Tony ends up the way does is because he fights off an army by himself. He’s got quite an arsenal, and the coke probably makes it seem like a good idea at the time, but the decision to stay and fight is vastly miscalculated. Even if Tony had survived the last assassination attempt, Sosa’s men would always be hunting for him. It would have been a short hunt. Tony Montana would have died of a heart attack from all that coke he snorted.

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[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Saint Jude's Miracle: A Javier Peña x OFC (Isa) Fanfiction. Chapter VI

Summary: Javier and Steve reunite and reflect on their past and their present and the hurtful memories they have to carry from their time in Colombia. Meanwhile Isa struggles with her everyday life and not having news from Javier for days is starting to worry her.

Word count: 2,6k

Warnings: PTSD talks, mentions of violence. (This is me trying to solve one plothole from season 2 from a character I really liked and hated at the same time👀)

A/N: So this took longer than I thought, I completely lost the inspiration and words didn’t flow I had to restart this many times. I guess I will look at this in a few weeks and think I should have revised even more, but I promised to post this today, so there it is. This is plot and more plot with a little bit of angst and fluff at the end.

Series masterlist

Chapter VI: Old Friends

Time is a curious thing; here they are many years after: Their bodies are not the same; the jeans are tighter around the belly and the hair is already grey in some parts, wrinkles around the eyes bear witness of the years that had pass through them, but nonetheless the conversation flows as if not a day has passed.

The empty beers sit to the side of the table leaving a small pool of their condensation over the wooden table. The music is loud at the bar and Javi and Steve had been quite for a few minutes now. The question floating above them making the air thicker every second it passes without addressing the matter.

“I should have reach to you sooner” Javi says holding his half bottle, is it the fifth or sixth he has finished?

“Don’t worry about it” Steve shakes his head and leaves his bottle on the pile “I called a few times, but I thought you needed time to process it all”

“The thing is I didn’t” Javi shows half a smile “I really fucked up and when they gave me Cali I thought I could redeem myself. Tried to do it by the book, tried to outsmart them” he leans on the table “and what happened? It was a fucking charade” he snarls

“You did well getting all that shit on the news” the blond agent taps on his friend arm “Shit! I wanted to quit myself when I saw it”

“They didn’t give me another option. But...” Javi crosses his arms over his chest when he feels that familiar feeling, the words and feelings choking him

“You didn’t want to”

“Fuck, I’m a middle age man! This is what I’ve been doing for my whole life? What was I supposed to do?” he exhales deeply, a burden is lifted out of his chest

“Everybody said it was unfair if it helps” Steve consoles

“I guess not Stechner” Javi scoffs

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Steve comes close “He disappeared. For real, MIA. Nobody has heard from him in years”

“Well, I don’t wish death to anyone...” Javier shakes his head:” who am I kidding? Fuck him!”

The two of them laugh out loud for a few minutes; the waiter guessing that their laughs deserve another round; leaves two cold beers on their table with a wink

“For Stechner, I guess”

“May he rot in hell” and they drink together

“So...about that wife of yours” Steve has been dying to ask more about Isa and Connie has tasked him with getting all the information he can gather.

“Isa” Javier reaches for his wallet. In the small plastic pocket inside it, there’s a picture of the three of them on a photo booth, the same day they had to go to the mall to get Elvi’s photo for her school application.

Elvira is seated on their laps while Javi and Isa smile at her

“Oh, she’s gorgeous. You’ve been always lucky with the ladies, Javi”

“Well, I am. I don’t know how she bears with me. I give her too many headaches”

“Connie was happy when they stopped asking me to go on field operations. Not gonna lie, it felt good for a bit getting back to a desk and just do paperwork. But then...” Steve blue eyes look glossy in this light and after too many beers “I saw myself reflected on the glass doors of the office and shit, it hit me; I was old and dying on a desk. And then you called”

“I understand”

“When you said you were married with a kid, I really couldn’t believe that you and I were once those dudes in Colombia”

“It feels like a million years ago”

“And just a few days ago at the same time” completes Steve and Javier nods

“What does she know? your wife, how she handles all that?”

“She doesn’t. When I met her she was...first of all she had left Laredo before everybody knew me for the Escobar shit, so when we met, we were just two strangers. We could talk and I could kick everything under a rug and let her form an opinion about me by herself without interferences” his gaze wanders over the tables: families having a quite dinner; a couple that has an untouched plate in front of them while they kiss and talk in whispers.

“And after you married?” Steve asks interrupting his thoughts

“I just told her the necessary” he shakes his head the necessary is almost nothing.

“Well, it’s better that way, but I couldn’t hide it from Connie. Man! I was out control; everything and anything could trigger me. I was anxious, paranoid all the time. I woke up in the middle of the night, got my gun out of the safe if I heard a car tire exploding or any loud noise and I’d had my heart beating fast for hours. And let’s not talk about the nightmares”

“The helicopter?” Javi asks, his voice is thin almost a whisper remembering the extreme methods the police used when the hunt for Escobar was on its peak

“Yeah...and many others. I keep on seeing the two of us entering that house, but instead of finding Olivia crying, she’s dead, shot dead as her mum” Steve sniffs and coughs moving uncomfortably on his chair. “That’s when I looked for help”

Javier nods remembering so many nights where he thought his brain could kill him, reimaging that kid in the ally, rescuing Helena, all the things he saw when Los Pepes were unleashed. By your hand.

“We should call it a night, amigo”

“I see your Spanish has not improved. Just the two words you knew back in Colombia” Javi scoffs with a grin

“Cabrón”

“Yep, that’s the second one”

Isa

It’s been two days since he left and he hasn’t called. Isa tries to focus on everything she needs to do before Elvira starts the new school year. She has called Chucho every afternoon thinking that maybe he had some news, but nothing.

“Ese marido tuyo aguanto mientras Elvi era chiquita y ahora que pudo se largo” (Your husband stayed with you while Elvi was a baby and now that she’s grown, he has left you) her mother commented once she got the news that Javi was away and he hadn’t call in three days. News travel fast in a small town and she hears the comments about her, about Javi: he did it again, he left another woman and run away, he left her as he left Lorraine. Every day Isa had to struggle with her own thoughts and the constant reminder from her mother and the ladies in Laredo that something was wrong with Javier.

Her brain repeats the same litany:

He must be caught up in something

Maybe he’s somewhere where there’s not a good connection

Maybe he cannot call for security

Maybe he did run away

Maybe he’s in danger

She tries to stop her mind when it gets that fast spiraling down towards the darker scenarios she can imagine. On the third night after he left and hadn’t called she had a terrible nightmare and she had to keep her little night lamp on as she does every night he spends away and every day since then, the lamp is on while she rests, sleeping just for a few hours and then spending hours turning back and forth trying not to think about the worst possible things she can imagine. What would she do if he never comes back? What would she do if something bad happen to him? Even though they had made peace by making love in that old truck before parting she could not forget their arguments and the things left unsaid. He would never leave them like that, would he?

Isa tries to be calm, not to project her fears and worries onto her daughter but each day she’s challenged with the never ending things she has to do at home each day: laundry, cooking, cleaning, and every time she thinks she’s finished there’s something new that has come up. Elvira is stressed, as any kid her age, watching the summer slipping away with its long days of freedom on top of her dad being away. So she’s more agitated than usual, sassy and misbehaving just to get her mother’s attention.

The trip to the supermarket is a long chant of demands: I want Cereals, I want Ice cream. All Isa can hear is IwanIwantIwantIwant and the wheels of her shopping cart screeching on the ground. She thinks her wrist is about to snap open just trying to hold Elvira’s hand so she sticks to her side.

“It’s really crowded, cielo, stay with me” she sighs trying to be patient.

But the moment, Isa hesitates and looks down to read her shopping list, she’s out

“I’m gonna get my cereal”

“Elvi!”

Isabel gains a few complaints from some old lady that she almost railed over trying to run for her daughter.

“Oh, you want that one?”

“Yes, please. I can’t reach” Isa laughs softly watching her daughter acting polite and looking like an angel towards the stranger woman. The lady gives her the colorful box and Elvi jumps excitedly until she sees her mum at the end of the aisle.

“¿Qué te dije de que te separases de mi?” (What did I tell you about running away from me?” the little girl pouts and answers

“I thought you would say no if I ask for this”

“Ay, Elvi. I’m sorry if she bothered you” Isa smiles to the woman. She is on her 40s, Isa guesses, she has a beautiful elegant visage framed by a brown with blond highlights mane. She smiles widely with her scarlet lips: “No hay problema” (No problem) she answers in Spanish, her accent seems different to the Mexican-American accent Isa is used to listen to in this part of Texas.

“Gracias igualmente. Está obsesionada con esto que está lleno de azúcar” (Thank you anyway, she’s obsessed with this sugary thing” Isa ruffles her child’s hair

“La comprendo, mis hijos son igual” (I understand, my kids are the same)

“¿De dónde es? tiene un acento muy bonito” (Where are you from? you have a very beautiful accent) Isa asks, for a moment she thinks that she might be overstepping but the woman laughs softly patting Isa’s arm with her hand stylishly decorated in elegant gold and diamonds rings, her manicure is perfect.

“Colombia,pero ya llevo unos años acá en los Estados Unidos” (Colombia, but I’ve been here in the USA for a while now)

“¡Oh! me han dicho que es muy bonito” (I’ve been told it’s very beautiful) Elvi grabs her mum by the hem of her dress rushing her to finish the boring conversation, mainly because she wants to get back home and open the box of cereal “Bueno, un gusto” (Well, it’s been a pleasure) Isa waves

“¿Cómo se llama?” the woman asks when they’re leaving

“Isa, ¿y usted?” (Isa, and you?)

“Judy. Un placer” she grins

The TV has already passed to that late night teleshopping advertising stupid stuff with even more stupid people repeating again and again the same lame catchy phrases. But there’s silence at this hour, Elvi is sleeping soundly and now Isabel can rest on the sofa, eyes fixed on the stupid people on TV and her longing for Javier.

She took the laundry out of the dryer today. Mixed in all the clothes an old “University of Texas” t-shirt that Javi rarely wears around the house and that she has stolen as pajamas. Without even realizing it, she smelled the fabric only sensing the sweet scent of the softener she uses so she had rushed to the bathroom and sprinkled the t-shirt with Javi’s cologne. And now hugs herself silently praying that tonight will be the night he calls.

The TV volume is set to the minimum and when the strong ringing sound surrounds the house Isa thinks is coming from it until she realizes that is coming from the kitchen. She runs, stepping on Elvi’s toys and bumping her knee over the sofa. Limping she runs and picks up the phone

“Hello?” her voice is shaky

“Isa is me” Javi says on the other line

“Javi, thank God, where were you? You told me you will call when you’d arrive and it’s been three days and I...” she babbles

“I’m fine, I’m sorry...it’s been a little bit crazy” he sounds tired and he’s speaking softly as if he cannot raise his voice

“Are you okay? Are you in danger?” Isa sniffs, the tears rolling down and she leans on the cold tile wall of the kitchen

“No, it’s just we have to go to different places, meet a bunch of people. I didn’t have the time. I’m sorry Isa. Elvi’s sleeping I guess?”

“Yes, but she will be really happy to know that you called”

“I’ll try to call earlier tomorrow”

“Yes...please, she’s being a bit difficult lately”

“Why?” Isa can hear how the bed creaks on his end and his deep grunt

“I guess it’s the end of summer, you’re not here, my mum...”

He huffs

“Elvi told her we didn’t know where you where and you can imagine”

“She hates me even more”

“Don’t worry about her. Tell me about the job” Isa sits on the ground holding the phone on her shoulder

“Isa...I rather listen to you”

“I haven’t done much. Nothing interesting”

“It doesn’t matter” he answers

And thus she begins telling every tiny detail, Javi was silent on the other side and when she asks if he’s listening he just hums.

“Anyway...I guess that’s all. And I hope you’re not mad but your old university t-shirt has a new hole in it which somehow makes it even more comfortable”

“You’re wearing it now?”

“Yes...I miss you so it’s just like having your arms around me”

“I miss you too, Isa. I only have this old dude on the medallion and the picture I keep on my wallet to remind me of you...not that I need anything to remember you”

“That old dude...” she laughs “he’s a saint and I think he’s doing a good job for the moment”

“Really?” Isa smiles widely when she hears his deep chuckle on the other side

“You’ve said I miss you for the first time, I will say it’s even a miracle”

“What? I’ve told that plenty of times” he says a little bit offended “ but we’ve never been parted that much since we’re together”

“You don’t say you love me that much either...” Isa adds

“That’s not true” he says firmly

“Yes it is, I’m not mad, you express it in other ways. I’ve accepted that when I marry you”

“I’m sure I say it many times...”

“You can say it now...” she whispers

“I love you, Isa, and I miss you” he mutters

“See? Saint Jude is working its magic” Isa laughs. Her heart is full and she feels like an enormous weight has been lifted. He loves me, he’ll be back

“So I’m not a lost cause anymore?” Javi replies with an amused tone

“We’ll see when you get here”

“And you won’t say it back?”

“What?”

“That you love me and miss me”

“Ay, Javier” she sighs “I sleep every night waiting for you with the lights on, praying that you will get back to me soon, I sleep with your t-shirt and even if I don’t believe in it really, I keep praying and praying that you will be back to our bed, that I will turn and you’ll be there, so yeah, I miss you and I love you. Te amo”

“Yo también te amo”

“Good night, mi amor”

“Good night”

(taglist: @sara-alonso)

[therucrap]

Welcome back to my RuPaul’s Drag Race season 13 Rucrap - episode 3! Please share and like if you enjoy!

Before we dissect the good, drag, and the struggling in this final chapter of a herstorical three-part premiere I have to commend the show on a refreshed rollout that, while longer than ever, allows the C.U.N.T.enders more time to introduce their talents on the only TV show that requires contestants to be designers, models, actors, dancers, singers, comedians, sometimes cheerleaders, and queer trauma storytellers. Now that I’ve said one nice thing about our favorite gay past time, let’s rip it to shreds, mawma!

We pick up right where we left off with the winning queens piling into the DIY Werk Room lounge after a largely successful challenge with no bottoms, their self esteem higher than the Covid rates in Puerto Vallarta after Shangela’s vacation. These lucky queens have been praised for two consecutive weeks and their egos are inflated to full Macy’s Day Parade levels. The smug champs head back to their rooms to admire themselves and it’s time for a new day with our scrappy Have Not’s! Denali, Joey Jay, Tamisha Iman, Rosé, Utica, & Kahmora Hall return from exile on Porkchop Island ready for revenge and in spite of their initial losses are chomping at the tit to prove their worth. Facing mortality has renewed their fighting spirit and these scrappy misfit toys are determined to band together and not only level up with their winning counterparts but outshine them.

Coach Ru arrives to let the Bad News Bears know that they’ll be competing in a nearly identical version of last week’s mini-challenge runway featuring “Lady and the Vamp” looks and like that they’re off! The group hurriedly prepares for battle and when most of them are eyebrow deep in makeup the attention goes to Kahmora who is still gingerly applying primer. We learn that makeup takes her up to six hours on a normal day which is unfortunate considering their slim one hour time limit to get completely frocked. The bedragged crew begins lining up for the runway but a still bare-faced Kahmora is left alone in the Werk Room now spinning out and what seemed like a bit of playful editing at first is now a full code red as production comes to a halt to locate our fashion sloth.

Things finally get started in the runway blackbox where Rosé, Denali, and Tamisha make the biggest splash - Rosé is Fashion Week ready with two cheeky high-fashion concepts, Denali with a playful textured dress and a sheer gown with exposed cage, and Tamisha surprises the judges with youthful pink harem pants and an Elvira look made completely of hair. Utica continues to bring her signature brand of wackyness in two looks featuring Chuck E. Cheese pit balls, Joey skips wigs completely and wears a black bodysuit and chains that screams S&M by Rihanna on a Monday at Micky’s, and Kahmora’s looks are simple which is concerning because she would have had to juggle fire on a unicycle to make the make up for the production meltdown she just caused.

As our unlikely heroes de-drag we see how this rag tag group has trauma-bonded and Tamisha really is the heart of the group. At around 20 years their senior she’s competed in over 200 pageants, won half of them, and has biological children older than her fellow competitors. Before our bonding campers can relax and begin a rousing rendition of Kumbaya, Ru arrives just in time to return us to a familiar panic and introduces the main challenge. They’ll be writing a verse, performing , and hopefully improving the cringey, mid-tempo spoken-word rap Phenomenon from RuPaul’s Drag Race Live! They head to the runway for rehearsal where pro-dancers Denali, Rosé, and Joey try to out-choreograph each other, an already disadvantaged Kahmora struggles to catch on, and house mom Tamisha thankfully steps up to get the team on the same page.

It’s finally challenge day and while painting Kahmora divulges that her boyfriend of eight years doesn’t support her drag career and Tamisha tells us about her legendary drag dynasty, specifically her late daughter Tandi Iman Dupree who is best known for a viral Youtube video cum drag touchstone where she drops into a death-defying split from the rafters over a pageant stage dressed as Wonder Woman to I Need a Hero. If you haven’t seen it go treat yourself to one of the most impressive displays of drag audacity in recorded history.

This week’s guest judge is the charming Nicole Byer known best for letting contestants down softly on Nailed It. The queens perform their drastically improved version of Phenomenon with particularly well-branded and ear-wormy verses by everyone but an uncomfortable and robotic Kahmora. The category is “We’re Here, We’re Sheer, Get Used to it” and big praise goes to the super-watchable and well-dressed Denali and Rosé. Joey, Utica, and Tamisha are celebrated but given small critiques on repeating silhouettes, look cohesiveness, and low energy respectively. Thankfully for Kahmora there are no eliminations this week because she predictably fares the worst and is told by the panel in no uncertain terms to get a personality. The top two are Denali and Rosé who face off to the iconically unsubtle gay anthem “If You Seek Amy” by Britney Spears. Denali can finally show her full dance potential in a ice skate-free performance and she snatches the $5,000!

Join me next week where our rival dance crews finally reunite and the eliminations begin! Like and share if you enjoy!

[sapphicmumrik]

B and The Three Gay Caballeros?? Pretty please??

Granny Elvira’s farm was the same as it always had been, even after all these years.

Situated in the middle of a country field far away from any interstate or highway, it had been a long time since Donald had been here, far too long. When Gladstone and Fethry had turned down the chance to own it after her passing (the former citing he wasn’t a stay-at-home type and the latter was down in South America), it fell to Donald and it seemed like a good idea time, and naturally, José and Panchito moved in with him.

It was a change of pace for the three of them. After living in the Institute for a while, it was nice to get back to this kind of thing. Donald had never settled in well after the whole thing with Felldrake so asking Daisy to take control of the Institute was the best thing he could’ve done, his ex girlfriend only too willing. It suited her, and the country suited Donald. He spent his days with his sleeves rolled up and ankle deep in mud, shit or hay, while José gardened and Panchito herded the cattle or cooked in the kitchen.

It had been about a month since they had moved in when things started to happen.

It started little, with things going missing here and there, or the cows being spooked by something. Donald could remember nights in his youth when he and his cousins and sister would sit around campfires in the back paddock and tell stories. Della’s had always been the spookiest, his twin good at telling them to the point where Fethry was almost clinging to him and Gladstone in fear and had to be carried back to the house. The memory of Gladstone’s warning over the phone came back to him.

“No way would I ever be interested in Granny’s farm. One, I’m not the type, and two, that shit’s haunted, Donnie. I mean, I know I’m lucky but not even my luck would keep those ghosts at bay for long.”

Despite the anxiety in the pit of his stomach, Donald swallowed down his medication and left it alone.

It was another month before they had the farm looking good as new since Granny’s passing, Donald having called cousin Gus to help him and José with some of the repairs to the shed and stables. They made small talk while they worked, resetting beams and fixing the old doors, replacing wood in the walls. Gus himself had had the chance to own the farm, but when Donald asked him why he didn’t take it, he just shook his head, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

“I wouldn’t want to run into the widow.”

“Widow?” José asked, looking over his shoulder at the goose curiously. “Like a spider?”

Gus shook his head, then looked around them and lowered his voice. “They say that a long time ago, before Grandpa Hunkerdink built the farm, a woman drowned in the stream nearby, on the run from the law or somethin’.” He pocketed his handkerchief and then hefted the last wooden slab into their pulley system, helping Donald pull on the rope to lift it up. “She was a murderess who killed her husband and children, all sos that she could be with another. Rumours say she always appears dressed in white.” He wiped his hands on his overalls as José hammered the panel in, huffing and looking at Donald. “Don’t y’remember Granny leavin’ milk and bread on th’ windowsill? It was to appease the woman’s spirit to leave us alone, especially when the lot of yeh were intent on spendin’ the evenin’ outside.”

“Dama branca,” José muttered to himself as he slid the hammer into the tool belt far too big for his tiny waist, a look from Donald and Gus making him pause and then shook his head a mite sadly. “My people…my country has similar stories, as does Panchito’s. Not always pretty and definitely not for children.” He tilted his head to look at the duck. “Donal’, perhaps it would be best if we started your vovo’s tradition of leaving milk and bread on the windowsill back up again, no?”

Donald huffed, adjusting the sleeves of his flannel. “We’ll be fine. We took on that big palooka Felldrake, we can face anything.” At Gus’ confused glance, he shook his head. “Ask me another time, Gus.”

The goose shrugged and set about taking down the pulley system while José pursed his beak together, then sighed and rolled his sleeves up. “I suppose if worse comes to worse I know a few spells that can keep spirits at bay, if not for long. I really must insist on continuing vovo’s tradition, meu amor, and you know how superstitious Panchito is, but I will double check the wards just to be sure.”

Donald somehow had a feeling that he was going to regret it, watching the parrot start the long walk to the four corners of the property. He knew José had set up spells at the corners when they’d first moved in as sort of a trip wire, just in case, but he turned his head to look at his cousin, Gus rolling the rope around on his arm. “Gus…d’you really think Granny Elvira knew what she was doing?”

“Well, we never saw her, did we? The ghost?” Gus asked, shrugging with a small sigh. “I guess it all depends on what you believe, cuz. I know for sure that Granny knew what she was doing in a lot of things, so I trust in her…whatchacallit…methods. ‘Sup to you.”

They bid Gus farewell after dinner that night, even though they had offered to put him up, the goose was ready to get home. Donald flopped back in a chair at the kitchen table, running a finger through his feathery hair as José sat across from him, sipping a cup of tea, Panchito doing dishes. It was storming outside, the wind having picked up out of nowhere just after Gus had left, dark clouds hovering overhead in the sky.

The lights went out, the three of them letting out a scream as china shattered to the floor, a flash of lightning outside the window illuminating the room and allowing Donald to grab the flashlight from its place on the shelf, flicking it on. He shone it around the kitchen, first finding Panchito standing near the kitchen sink, gripping it in a white knuckled grip, and then turning it to José who gave him a look.

“What? It’s not the ghost, the lightning probably blew a fuse!” the duck grumped as Panchito moved over to José, taking hold of his shoulders and squeaking at the news.

“There’s a espírito?!”

José sighed, placing his hand to his forehead. “I told you this would happen, Donal’.”

“There is no espírito, Panch,” Donald said, turning the flashlight on the rooster and making him squint in the light. “Besides, aren’t you a three times world champion luchador?”

“Well sure, but that’s people. People, Donaldo. I can’t wrestle ghosts!”

“We’ve been to the underworld for Selene’s sake!”

“I’m afraid it looks as though you are about to be able to try, meu amor,” José interrupted them almost calmly, the next lightning flash illuminating the window once again, making him cringe as the three of them looked to it. Donald dropped the flashlight in shock, backing himself into the refrigerator as the ghostly visage of a woman stared back at them, skeletal in appearance and clothed in white like Gus said she would be.

“La Llorona,” Panchito panicked, now practically draped around José’s neck like a scarf or as Scooby Doo would Shaggy Rogers.

“Donal’, I blessed the window with a combination of salt and water hours ago, but it might still be too young to keep such an old spirit away,” the parrot said as he patted the rooster’s arm out of the choke hold on his throat, looking at the duck as he fumbled with the fridge door. “Now would be the time to appease her, my friend, before things get worse.”

“But…but we need…”

José smacked the table with his hand, standing and taking Panchito with him before the taller lost his balance and fell off. “Donal’ Duck, she is a woman in so much agony that she is drifting with sorrow! Do not let her suffer any more than she is already!”

Bony fingers scraped at the window as Donald screwed his eyes shut, shoulders sagging as he looked at his partners pleadingly. “Help me?”

José gave him a smile and put his cigar out, rolling up his sleeves before taking hold of Panchito’s hand to keep the rooster comforted. Together, they found the milk and the bread, and a glass and plate for both, Donald limiting his whining to grumbling under his breath as the wind and lightning rumbled around the house, threatening to undo their hard work. The window was opened, Donald shakily placing both on the windowsill as the ghostly woman hovered there.

“My lady, please forgive my love’s actions,” José said with a bow, gesturing to the meagre meal sitting on the sill as his partners cowered together behind him. “And please know that you are always welcome on your land.”

The ghost seemed to consider it, before she disappeared, along with the bread and the milk from the glass. The wind stopped and the lights flickered back on, Panchito and Donald unable to help but stare as José took both plate and glass from the window, putting them into the sink calmly. “H-how did you know what to do?” the rooster asked, wrapping his arms around José in a hug of apology for his cowardice.h

“I have dealt with a few spirits before,” he confessed, reaching to close the window and patting Panchito’s arm in acceptance, kissing his cheek. “Sometimes all they need is the assurance that they can pass through their land in peace.” José turned his head to look at Donald with a small frown. “Which is why I wanted you to set the bread and milk out in the first place, Donal’.”

“Alright, alright. We’ll make extra,” he said, holding his hands up in defeat before he tilted his head to kiss José’s beak. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“Y’know,” Panchito began slowly, reaching to pull the duck into their hug. “That was a rush. Anyone else feel up for a little midnight…”

“Not the time, Panchito!”

The rooster pouted, but settled for couch snuggles and a telenovela.

[fictionz]

New Fiction 2021 - April

A Stitch in Time by Andrew J. Robinson (2000)

Star Trek x Godfather II.

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - Crossroads of Time dev. Novotrade International (1995)

I don’t know where to land here. It’s frustrating until it’s not because one must practice and fail repeatedly to make progress, which is the nature of the thing. Can I hate it for being what it is? Regardless, all these characters and stories make no sense unless the television show is top of mind.

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - Harbinger dev. Stormfront Studios (1996)

Everything is as stiff as a board, which constraints of the era demanded of it. However, as above, knowledge of the show and its relationships enrich the experience, and in that scenario it is perhaps worth the journey. Special shouts to the writers and voice actors who elevate this several notches above where it appears it should be.

"Burrow" dir. Madeline Sharafian (2020)

It’s to let them help me.

"Genius Loci" dir. Adrien Merigeau (2019)

Sharing space, understanding and regret.

"Opera" dir. Erick Oh (2020)

We’re vital members of society.

"If anything happens I love you" dir. Will McCormack & Michael Govier (2020)

Our capacity is bottomless.

"Já-Fólkið" dir. Gísli Darri (2020)

To exist together.

"Kapaemahu" dir. Kanaka (2020)

A divided people.

"The Snail and the Whale" dir. Max Lang & Daniel Snaddon (2020)

I don’t know. I think it would be nice to have someone.

"To: Gerard" dir. Taylor Meacham (2020)

You really can’t know, so be good.

"The Present" dir. Farah Nabulsi (2020)

The simple fucking dignity.

"Feeling Through" dir. Doug Roland (2020)

You know what they say about life.

"Two Distant Strangers" dir. Travon Free & Martin Desmond Roe (2020)

Trapped because the trawler net stretches back centuries.

"Ayn Levana" dir. Tomer Shushan (2020)

What’s important to you.

"The Letter Room" dir. Elvira Lind (2020)

The fascination is real, as are the consequences.

"Monsters in The Dark" dir. Apollonia Thomaier (2021)

Trust is closely guarded.

"The Tell-Tale Heart" dir. Ted Parmelee (1953)

Everyone has the eye, the eye.

"Captain Yajima" dir. Worthikids (2021)

A master of the craft.

The Pianist dir. Roman Polanski (2002)

Humans,

The Journey of Natty Gann dir. Jeremy Kagan (1985)

If father abandons then father pays.

Aeon Flux dir. Karyn Kusama (2005)

Watch The Invitation.

Lucky dir. Natasha Kermani (2021)

You don’t believe, you don’t believe, you don’t believe.

A New Leaf dir. Elaine May (1971)

The rich man’s legacy.

The Dig dir. Simon Stone (2021)

Let the man dig.

Shipwrecked dir. Nils Gaup (1990)

Keep it under the mattress.

Godzilla vs. Kong dir. Adam Wingard (2021)

Challenged by the mere notion.

Avalon dir. Mamoru Oshii (2001)

It’s only real when you accept that longing is the source of your melancholy.

Nobody dir. Ilya Naishuller (2021)

A middle-aged fantasy.

The Fog dir. John Carpenter (1980)

The blame is always there.

Blood Simple dir. Joel Coen & Ethan Coen (1984)

Desperate measures call for desperate times.

Rango dir. Gore Verbinski (2011)

Performance is the essence of our existence.

The Black Cauldron dir. Ted Berman & Richard Rich (1984)

It must be nice to be born of potential.

Batman: The Killing Joke dir. Sam Liu (2016)

Barb deserves better, but so does any woman in these stories.

Tangled dir. Nathan Greno & Byron Howard (2010)

Youth is a prison.

The SpongeBob Movie: Sponge on the Run dir. Tim Hill (2020)

Of a different era of celebrity appearances.

Race for Your Life, Charlie Brown dir. Bill Melendez & Phil Roman (1977)

The gas crisis as a repressed memory.

La Casa Lobo dir. Cristóbal León & Joaquín Cociña (2018)

Horrifying history through art, I tell you.

Seoul Station dir. Yeon Sang-ho (2016)

I didn’t see it coming.

The Last Unicorn dir. Arthur Rankin Jr. & Jules Bass (1982)

Quite a mood in this one. Ethereal and lonesome.

Fantastic Planet dir. René Laloux (1973)

Takes me back to the Heavy Metal movie and how strange and different it felt from everything, except of course this begat all of that which arrived in the late seventies and eighties.

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

The new Agent Carter gets shafted in these stories, so I sincerely hope they don’t drop the ball again.

[rootbeergoddess]

What are Friends For?

Rowdy’s old friend has a super big favor to ask of him: date his daughter. Like this story? Leave me a tip!

   “Rowdy, I need a favor. A big one.” Waddell said

   “Jesus, I’m already worried,” Rowdy chuckled. “What is it?”

   “You know my daughter Y/N right? Well, she’s coming back home for a while. She just graduated school. Got her degree and now she’s planning to be a marine biologist.”

   “Yeah, I remember her. She always loved the sea. Why do you need me?”

   “Her shitty ex-boyfriend is trying to get back with her,” Waddell sighed. “I’m going, to be frank Rowdy, my little angel deserves better than this shit stain. He broke her heart already, and I can’t have it happen again.”

   “It almost sounds like you want me to date your daughter.”

   “Yeah. I know it sounds odd, but you have to understand Rowdy. My daughter is my whole world. I love her more than I love myself. If Satan himself came up from Hell and said I had to kill the president or my daughters, you bet your ass I”d kill the president. Rowdy, please. I just need a decent fella to distract her.”

   Rowdy had to think about this. This wasn’t the weirdest request he had ever gotten. It was also coming from Waddell, a man who had known for years. How could he say no to his old friend?

   “Alright Waddell. I’ll do my best.”

   You looked out at the road, sighing. Dad was supposed to be home by now. Apollo, the family Great Dane, was lying on the porch. He hadn’t left your side since you came home from school. Seemed like the big lug had missed you. Smiling, you looked down at him, and he began to wag his tail. Then, he got up and started to bark. You look up to see your father’s car.

   “Dad!” You jumped off the porch to run to the car.

   “There she is!” Your father grinned.

   You hugged him. You were all grown, but you still loved coming home. The rustic country home you had been raised was heaven compared to the city. It was like a little slice of heaven just for you. Apollo came up behind you, his tail wagging like mad. Your father laughed as he reached down to pet the happy dog. Stepping back, you realized he wasn’t alone. Someone else came out of the car. Once he was out of the vehicle, you realized who it was. Rowdy Burns, the famous race car driver. Your father was his crew chief. You had met him before, but he hadn’t really been all that impressed. Rowdy came off as vain and reckless. Of course, you weren’t going to say that out loud. Not in front of your father.

   “Hello Y/N,” Rowdy smiled at you. “Welcome back.”

   “Thanks,” You said.

   Apollo sniffed Rowdy’s foot. Rowdy crouched down and immediately, started licking Rowdy’s face.

   “Aw, you giving me kisses?” Rowdy asked. “Those are some good kisses.”

   “You remember Rowdy, right Y/N?”

   “Of course Dad. Your #1 guy,” You said, smiling at him. “How can I forget him?”

   Rowdy stood up and offered up his hand. Wanting to be polite, you placed your hand in his. You were shocked when he kissed the top of your hand. For a second, you felt yourself blushing.

   “It’s a pleasure to see you again,” Rowdy said.

   “Thank you,” You took your hand back. “I’m going to go help mom with dinner.”

   “Mhm, that’s some damn good meatloaf Jane,” Rowdy said.

   “Oh Rowdy, you’re so sweet.” Your mother said.

   More like an asskisser you thought. Again, you said nothing. As you continued eating, your father and Rowdy talked about racing. It wasn’t exciting to you, but you didn’t mind. Your father loved the race track. It made him happy.

   “So Y/N,” Rowdy suddenly said. “Your daddy told me you’re going to be a marine biologist, isn’t that right?”

   “Oh, yes,” You said. “I studied the behavior of whales.”

   “Sounds fascinating,” Rowdy smiled at you. “I’m no brainiac. That is why I just drive cars. Doesn’t take a smartie to do that.”

   At least he admitted he wasn't that bright. Once dinner was done, you went to go to the dishes. You reached for them, but Rowdy beat you to it.

   “Allow me,” He said.

   “You don’t have to do that. You’re our guest.”

   “It’s no problem,” Rowdy started putting dishes away.

   “Hm,” You leaned against the counter. “Okay, what’s the catch?”

   “Catch?” Rowdy asked.

   “Dad doesn’t invite guests over without telling us beforehand,” You eyed him. “Something is up.”

   “Nothing’s up,” Rowdy said. “I just wanted to visit. Plus, he talks about you all the time. You’re the apple of his eye. You know he’s got a picture of you on his desk.”

   “What? No way.”

   “Yeah. It’s from one of your Halloween’s. You dressed up as Elvira.”

“Oh, yeah. Elvira one of my favorite people. I’ve watched everything she’s ever been in.

“Really? So you like horror movies?” Rowdy asked.

“I love horror,” You smiled. “I mean since you’re here, I could show you my collection. Unless you’re too scared.”

“Well if you’re with me, I think I can manage,” Rowdy said with a grin.

“Morning Dad!”

Your father looked up from his paper as you kissed his cheek. Smiling, you grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table. “That’s a pretty nice dress you’re wearing dear.” He commented.

“I know right? Rowdy bought me this for our six month anniversary,” You said with a dreamy sigh. “It’s a Gucci original, and he had it made just for me.”

“Wow,” Your father whistled. “That’s a pretty special gift.”

“Yeah,” You took a bite of your apple. “I’m so glad you tried to set me up with him Dad.”

“Oh,” He chuckled. “You’re too smart. When did you figure it out?”

“The first night he came over,” You replied. “You know Dad, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own choices.”

“I know sweetheart. I just didn’t want that scumbag back in your life. You have such a bright future ahead of you. That ex of yours was no good, and I was afraid he’d hold you back.”

“Aw Dad,” You smiled. “I know you’re just looking out for me and I do appreciate it. But next time, no surprise dates.”

“Well, hopefully I won’t have to plan anymore.”

Beeping was heard outside. You tossed the apple into the trashcan, gave your father one last kiss and then ran outside. Rowdy got out of his car, a bouquet of roses in his hand. Apollo followed him, wagging his tail. Rowdy removed his sunglasses, smiling at you as you approached. Once you were in reach, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Hello handsome,” You cooed. “So where are you taking me tonight?”

“It’s a surprise,” He said, grinning. “I mean this is a big milestone. Six months.”

“Yes. Six months that happened because my dad didn’t want me to get together with my ex.”

“Oh,” Rowdy chuckled. “God, you are way too smart. How long did you know?”

“Since the day you came over. Lucky for you, I am very forgiving.”

“Lucky me.”

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