#Had to introduce the Terrence idea somehow!

[tev-the-random]

(Continuation of this!)

If he had to call the attack on Tumble Town anything, Sausage would call it ominous.

You see, the thing about living thousands of years and multiple lives is that you start to notice patterns in tragedy. So although most people said there was calm before the storm, he knew otherwise: there was always a bit of a dark sky in between, some sort of warning bell. And Sausage knew quite a lot about dark skies.

He was the first one to offer support as soon as he got the news. If not because his colourful empire greatly valued the terracotta trades, then because the Sheriff was a good friend. The man confided to Sausage — which means everybody everywhere was aware of it by noon — his strange encounter the previous night. The Red Light Bandit, as he’d taken to calling the suspect, definitely gave off the feeling that they were looking for more than a victimless inconvenience. They both knew this wasn't going to be a one-time thing.

Someone needed to keep an extra eye out, if anything. It was in the Guardian's nature to protect what was vulnerable, regardless of whether or not it made a chill run down his spine. He owed it to Tumble Town, after all. He should do right by it at least once.

Citizens of Sanctuary were quick to volunteer a hand once the message started circulating. Now, if there was one thing Sausage was sure of, it was that those who lived in Sanctuary — the refugees, the runaways, the lost souls and found families, — understood better than anyone what it was like to pick up the pieces of a broken home.  

Two days after the incident, Sausage showed up to the mesa with a whole group of volunteered help behind him. Truth be told, try as he might, the Guardian couldn't keep up with every single soul that came and went from the safe haven he'd created; he wasn’t, therefore, completely familiar with the entire bunch. There were one or two elves with whom he’d had friendly conversations over the years; an enderian who often humoured the thought of moving to Tumble Town, where the humidity was far more bearable than in the jungle; a couple of fae he had personally welcomed into their community after their forest burned down.

They were followed over the torn hills by four avian friends — no older than eighteen or so, from some country overseas, — a number of dwarves with a heavy accent from somewhere way up north and a few humans from all over the place. Sausage couldn’t say he knew any of them by name, but he made sure to keep track of them nonetheless.

“Alright, everybody! The Sheriff offered us some tools in this box here,” he announced, stepping out of the sheriff’s office with a heavy chest full of equipment. “There are a couple of spots that could use our help, I’m pretty sure everyone can find something they’re good at. If you need any guidance, just come looking for me and we’ll figure it out, right? Right, let’s get to it!”

Sausage’s enthusiasm was infectious, and his people promptly took the initiative. They scattered throughout the town to help break up debris, repair broken rooves, move animals, replace light sources and all the likes of manual labour. Seeing them work alongside the citizens of Tumble Town who had the condition to stay and rebuild, the various goblins carrying materials all around and even a few of Joel’s obedient subjects, Sausage was glad to conclude most of the group had no trouble fitting in. Some, however, seemed a bit more unsure.

One of the humans — or at least he thought that’s what they were; something seemed a little off about it, though he wasn’t quite sure what — caught his attention after a couple of minutes. They looked around with some sort of polite intrigue and a quiet demeanour Sausage assumed was related to shyness. Their nervousness spiked immediately once they noticed Sausage staring, and his approach didn’t seem to make it much better, despite his best intentions.

“Hey there!” He started with a smile that aimed to soothe. “Sorry, this is all a bit of a mess. I guess you haven’t found something to do yet?”

They stared at him as if he was about to bite their head off. Eventually, they nodded.

Sausage hummed. He scanned the wreckage of the town, eyes landing on the Sheriff — who was busy instructing his cheery avian quartet on something, — then following the jagged hills around them in search of vacant stations. His look then went back to the man in front of him, eyeing him up and down once. Although he had a thinner frame than Sausage’s own, he was still built like someone who was used to carrying lots of weight; his long blond hair, streaked with the occasional grey strands, resembled a very messy curtain, taking over his features like he had never his life bothered to brush it back. Still, the Guardian could tell the man had tired dark eyes that avoided his stare at all costs.

“Tell you what, you seem pretty strong,” Sausage concluded, nodding to himself. “I think you should join Vilde by the train tracks over there, if you can.”

Next to the tunnel that once led to the east side of Tumble Town, an elf chipped away at the boulders that blocked it. She was a tall and burly woman who Sausage knew to be quite amicable. It seemed like a good match to him.

He gave the man an encouraging pat on the back, which was returned in the form of a relieved smile. Rolling his shoulders and taking one of the pickaxes inside their equipment box, the stranger — Sausage realised a few seconds too late that he forgot to ask for a name, dang it! — walked away. He promptly received a warm greeting upon reaching the train tracks, which the Guardian was pretty satisfied to see.

After making sure everyone was well taken care of, Sausage set off to get his own work done. He did not spare a single thought to how often the dark gaze behind blond locks drifted his way.

-

They met again when the sun over the mesa got too hot for them to work. Tumble Town’s saloon was bustling with all the helpers that had come inside to escape the heat and rest for a while. Sausage, for one, had no trouble weaving his way across the crowd and towards the duo sitting by the bar.

Vilde, the sturdy elf, managed to pull some conversation out of the man she had been put to work with. His name was Terrence, she told; he came from a small ranch in a very far away land he refused to speak about, but which he referred to with some fondness.

“Aww, have you met Larisa yet?” Sausage interjected. “Xe’s Sanctuary’s best shepherd, I’m sure xe would love a helping hand with the animals!”

“Maybe,” Terrence replied, softspoken. His hair, no doubt an inconvenience, had since been braided back, but few strands still found a way to fall over his eyes. His face was littered with little scars. “I ain’t got much experience with sheep, but if Larisa needs help with cows, I’m pretty much a magnet for them.”

“I guess that makes you a cowboy,” Vilde chirped, a proud glint in her eyes as her new friend sighed with lighthearted disapproval.

The minutes ticked by, and as it often happens to him, Sausage wasn’t sure how they got to the topic they got. He had just finished a long-winded story about his and Joel’s complicated relationship — not sparing details about the other people with whom he had all sorts of “complicated relationships” — when he finally decided to take a breather. Much to his mildly horrified audience’s relief.

Almost as if on cue, a familiar flutter of wings made itself heard outside. The Guardian of Sanctuary turned around to find a certain teenager standing timidly by the entranceway. The brightest of grins immediately illuminated his face.

“Hermes, my boy!” He shouted, waving frenetically as if from across a field. “I’m right here, come on over!”

Anyone with even the slightest observational skills could tell that the last thing the boy wanted was to be perceived by the saloon full of people. They shrunk into themself as if hoping they could disappear if they just didn’t move. But they couldn’t really do much when both of their fathers were some of the most flamboyant people in all of the empires. Sausage remained regrettably unaware of it.

Vilde and Terrence watched with distinct forms of interest as Hermes won over his hesitation and approached his father, who promptly gave him a loving kiss on the cheek as a greeting.  He was still little for a demigod, and his soft appearance would have you think him no older than an early pre-teen.

“Oh, do you remember Vilde, Hermes?” Sausage questioned. “And this here is Terrence! He moved to Sanctuary a few weeks ago, isn’t that nice?”

The elf had met Sausage’s child a handful of times over the years she had lived in Sanctuary. Still not enough for them to return her smile with quite the same enthusiasm as her.

Terrence, on his part, tilted his head with thinly veiled curiosity. It was as if the boy had kickstarted a furious thought process that made for a very amused conclusion.

“So you’re that Hermes I’ve heard so much about.” Tipping an imaginary hat, he smiled at the teen. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

They nodded in what was almost a greeting. The two of them stared at each other for maybe a moment too long before Hermes was no longer able to hold eye contact.

“What are you doing here?” Sausage asked, oblivious.

Hermes vacillated, opening and closing their mouth a couple of times. In the end, they opted to speak with their hands.

“Dad left me in Sanctuary early. I couldn’t find you.”

“Oh? Oh god, I’m so sorry! You must have been waiting so long— I told Joel I was busy today!” Sausage voiced his frustration dramatically. He sighed, then eyed his child with concern. “Does Thunder Daddy know you left Sanctuary? Did you come here all on your own?”

The boy made a face.

“I’m not five anymore.”

“Aw, you’ll always be my baby boy, even if you’re a hundred years old!”

The Guardian captured his son in a tight embrace, earning a squawk from them. Vilde laughed into her glass of water, trying not to embarrass them further, while Terrence observed the scene with a mix of fondness, amusement and something a little deeper, but undecipherable.

-

In the end, Sausage left earlier than intended, only taking his time to report back to the Sheriff and make sure everyone who came with him was still well. The others stayed for an hour or two more before most of them started heading back to Sanctuary. Terrence, on the other hand, seemed hesitant to leave.

“I was thinking... maybe I should stay here for the night,” he said, a little sheepish. He and the extroverted elf who had so promptly adopted him as a friend stood outside, where a few people still mingled about after a day’s work. “I would really rather avoid having to take the tram back and forth everyday...”

“Oh, tell me about it.” The Sheriff chimed in. He sat on a chair at the front porch of the saloon, leaning back against the wall. “Those damn rails give me motion sickness for days. Why don’t people just walk places anymore?”

“We can go walking if you want to,” Vilde offered.

“I dunno. I don’t think we’d get there before dark.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked up at the sky, musing. “I don’t wanna keep you out too late. I mean,” the man eyed Vilde with an awkward smile. “You could probably crush a zombie’s head with your bare hands, no offence, but I’d still feel bad.”

The elf opened her mouth to protest, only to get  interrupted by the Sheriff.

“Pretty sure there’s room in the inn, if you want.” He knocked on the window behind him. “I know those people from Stratos are staying over. Considering you’re helping us fix the town and all that, I think the innkeep will be more than happy to have ya.”

Terrence let out a sigh of relief. He smiled gratefully, not quite meeting the Sheriff’s eyes.

“You’re sure you’re staying?” Vilde asked. He nodded. “Well... I’ll warn Sausage about it, then.” She gave him a firm pat on the shoulder and a grin. “Be seeing you tomorrow, Terry!”

The Sheriff watched him wave off the elf as she skipped away. When it was just the two of them left, they stood there, occasionally exchanging some idle conversation. The old man found that Terrence was quite the pleasant company, albeit a generally timid one, with an easy laughter and a witty mind. The man’s competent rancher stories were enough to keep him amused until the sun came down, by which time they decided to enter the saloon-inn.

He didn’t drink, though. After Terrence bid him good night and disappeared upstairs, the Sheriff kept an eye out for any signs of trouble outside. He hadn’t felt so restless in years, and it rubbed him in all sorts of wrong ways.

Little did he know that, later that evening, the timid blond man with streaks of grey hair and face littered with little scars would manage to sneak his way into the Mezalean house on the other side of the hills. The place, albeit more or less intact, had no signs of living other than a few recent footprints of red sand and some disturbed dust on the shelves. The Sheriff, for one, never bothered checking it out, which made it perfect for hiding things.

Terrence opened a chest to find a set of clothes he unceremoniously changed into. They smelled like gunpowder, and he — Jimmy, he reminded himself at the sight of the heart-shaped scar on his chest. His name is Jimmy — couldn’t possibly feel more comfortable in them.

As he stepped into the small hidden cave next to the building, he couldn’t help but stare at his own reflection on a near-dry puddle under the moonlight. A faint red tint in his otherwise dark eyes stared back at him. It was a wonder that no one seemed to pay attention to it all day long. Not that he was complaining: it felt like waltzing around memories that couldn’t quite look him in the eye anymore. It’s an empowering feeling, despite the rather pathetic persona he had chosen to play in front of them.

Inside of a hole in the wall of the cavern, concealed behind an inconspicuous stone block, a lantern of bright, pulsating red light called to him. He held it like a long lost friend.

They had business to attend to.

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 27

Chapter title: Clocks Tick and Phones Still Ring

A/n: ....yall im so sorry for how long this took and the fact that not only did it take forever but it fucking sucks. I hate this I'm sorry I can't just here I'm so sorry

First | Previous | Next

words: 2155

summary: Through troubling times Logans mind run wilds trying his best

pairings: Eventual logicality, prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene,  murder, gun mention, guns, swearing abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol, shooting, crying

Ao3 Link  

Twenty minutes later...

Do you know what you are supposed to do when the love of your life sits pale and barely breathing in a room?

No Im genuinely asking

Because running out of the room and collapsing to sobs on your knees does seem valid however Logan just stood there. He stood there frozen, Barbara knew what to do. She ran to Pattons side, taking his cold hand, silent tears as she examines his soft face. Virgil emerges moments later, the family rule disposed of as he takes Patton's other side.  Roman took the end, and soon the room felt tight, he couldn't breathe.

He wanted to yell

Or cry

Or do anything remarkably human

But he just stood, nurses and doctors rushed by him, his friends talked in whispers of concern.

Why didn't he care?

He could hear the rest of them talking, questions fired at the nurses and doctors, sweet words of encouragement for a speedy and safe recovery for Patton. Telling them how much they care for him, but not Logan. In what seemed like minutes, the rest had decided to give Logan a moment. A moment for what? That was lost on him but alas the room fell quiet.

“This is your own fault, you understand that right?” He finally sets on speaking, not that anything would respond. Unless you count the steady monitor and the wheezes from the machines. “I'm not sure how many times I must clarify this but I'm not Liam. You can tell me things, you can trust me”

He scoffs, his arms crossed over his heart.

“None of us are Liam. You know I don't say ‘I love you’ ok?” He pushes, he can feel his nostrils flare. Do something Patton, respond. “I've only said it to my mothers and you” He glares, why was he just laying there. How dare he? “You took that from me!” He takes a second, breathing deep. “You knew...you knew this was going to happen. You have a will...its reasonable. You have two kids, a sister and assets at your disposal. But they showed it to me, they brought it to me”

He took his copy out, the crumpled and tear stained document felt too heavy.

“I, Patton Hart, residing at 1823 Millow Lane, declare this to be my Will, and I revoke any and all wills and codicils I previously made.” Logan begins to read, his hands shake noticeably but he continues. “I leave minor children surviving me, my daughter Valerie and son Remus. I appoint as guardian of the person and property of my minor children my partner Logan Tolentino. He shall have custody of my minor children, and shall serve without bond. If he does not qualify or for any reason ceases to serve as guardian, I appoint as successor guardian my sister Barbara Hart.” He finishes, some small part of him almost hopes that Patton awakes. An explanation ready. “This was recent, you knew, you knew something was going on!” He shouts, he tries to recenter but he can't, everything is too much. How was he supposed to handle these things?

“Logan? Everything alright?” A knock allows him to remember he's here.

“M’fine” He lies, and soon it's just him once more. “You changed it, this was clearly recent because I know you. I know that it takes you forever to trust people...although looking back on this unfortunate event you don't trust me. How dare you do this? How dare you not tell me, how dare you turn away from and do this” He rips the paper, watching its remains crumple to the ground “It's not that I can't do it, or won't” He states “Its that I don't want to…” He approaches Patton, finding himself next to the pale faced man. “I don't want to do this without you” He breaks, the anger shatters as his hand meets Patton's cold touch. “Please Patton..” He barely whispers at this point, his heart feels too heavy to be his own. “You do not get to be the love of my life and then die, you do not get to do this to me. Do you understand?”

“Papa?” Logan turns and eyes in horror as the twins, so bubbly and sweet, lose everything about them. Emile bursts through, his eyes and breath apologetic. “What happened...to papa?” Remus cries, Valerie shakes her head.

“Logan I am so sorry, they ju-” Emile begins but Logan sighs.

“It's alright” He assures standing, Emile takes his cue and walks away, leaving the three of them in the room...well four of them, for now. He takes them both in his arms, a breath of relief knowing they exist, knowing they are there and ok. He leads them to the bed, sitting at the end as they fear their place. Valerie squirms first, crawling closer, but alas her hands recoil. Remus has no qualms, he jumps hugging his father.

“Papa wake up please” He begs, his voice so soft. His energy and excitement for the mystery of life is gone. He wanted certainty, he wanted his father. Soon his sad calm aura turned quick to confused anger. “Wake up! Wake up papa! Wake up!” he cries, Valerie's simple tears, as she watched in pity for her brother, were nothing compared to the waterfall. Logan takes the boy, embracing him gently in his arms, soothing him to breathe. Valerie adjusts herself under the blankets, hugging Patton as she tries to mimic his sleep pattern. Logan watches knowing his world is breaking, and he's only got a smidgen of knowledge of what to do.

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout, down came the rain and washed the spider out” Valerie hums, Remus eyes her red and puffed. She continues her gentle tone, and Remus joins her on Patton's other side. Both cozying up to him, simple and sweet tunes until the pair tire themselves out. Sleeping away, Logan sits in the chair, he watches hoping to protect them for a moment before his own eyes fall prey to the idea of rest.

~~~

A week later…

“So we ended up going to the wrong store” Logan explains as he sets up the meal, the children giggle placing the sheet over the table. The hospital had granted them permission to use a table, and set up for meals in Patton's room. “Here you are” He hands plates to Valerie, she juggles them carefully setting them neatly upon the surface.

“Imma go get napkins!” Remus declares, he enjoys the sweet gushes the nurses give him so running through the halls was his favorite pastime.

“He's not gonna come back with napkins” Valerie sighs, continuing to help Logan. He sits by Patton, recalling their day. “Lollipops maybe, but not napkins” She finishes giving Logan his moment to set the food. He had been trying his hardest, help from Roman and Remy was required for cooking. He followed the recipe and tried for a simple mac and cheese today, with some salad and sweet desserts.

“Ready?” Logan asks as Remus emerges with a bundle of his own finds, none of which included his treasure he had set to get.

“Don't forget food for papa” Remus reminds, Valerie nods already chomping into her meal. The twins had insisted they set a place for him every time, serve him food and Logan would wait until he was alone to pack it back up. They knew he wasn't eating it but it was nice. “He's going to be so big and strong when he wakes up”

If he wakes up

“Absolutely” Logan agrees. So they eat and Emile comes to pick them up for a day away, Logan cleans and makes sure everything returns to normal. He can't say he doesn't enjoy the few moments alone, it takes time to go from a solitary routine, to adding a romantic partner and then children.

But he misses the second part more than he cares to admit. He sits at the end of the bed, stroking away Patton's loose hairs, the freezing touch scares him. He moves closer, somehow finding himself exhausted and wrapped around Patton. Its funny, he used to dream of the day's end when he could cuddle up in bed alone, the world was his own. But he hadn't realized how much he missed having someone, Patton, there with him until it was gone. Sleep had been awful, restless, but as soon as he had his protective arms around Patton, making sure he was ok...Logan fell fast.

“Careful Lo, hes just a baby” Patton smiles, swaddling the young child in Logan's arms. The man fears his own breath, the smallest of tears as he watches the young one snore so easily. Patton keeps his arms connected and in this moment they just are, they feel connected. A soft kiss to Logans cheek as footsteps shuffle behind him.

“This is Jamahl, Terrences brother” Cindy introduces, Patton flashes his award winning smile. The boy remains hesitant, keeping his eyes steady on the little child in Logan's arms, he has no choice he thinks. If he wants to keep his brother safe this is his option. So he goes with them.

“Where are we going?” He asks, as the neighborhood finds itself less familiar. Patton looked at him, he insisted on sitting in the back with the children. Keeping an eye on the baby.

“Home” He replies, Jamahl scoffs shaking his head. “My home, and Logans and if you would like it to be...your home” Patton corrects, Jamahl gets a choice? That's new. “Oh I should warn you-”

“Here it comes” The twelve year old sighs, Patton keeps a gentle grin.

“I have two twins at home, they're both five years old.” He pulls out his phone, swiping to show a shining photo of Patton and two young ecstatic children, “Thats Valerie and that's Remus” He points, beaming with pride. Jamahl nods, ok...not as bad. “They're wonderful and...five years old and very excitable so just be wary” He laughs, Logan could never get tired of the sweet sound.

They arrived at the house quickly, and Patton was not wrong to warn the child.

“Im Valerie!” A young girl smiles, shaking his hand vivaciously.

“Im Remus!” The boy greets, a giant hug. Jamahl freezes but allows it to happen, thanking whatever ethereal being let Patton pull the twins off him.

“Remember what I told you humbugs, no touching unless they are comfortable with it ok?” Patton reminds, they nod before waving their goodbyes. They run off and Logan disappears into the hall, coddling the baby. Jamahl looks worried and Patton assures him. “You wanna come see what's going on?”

“Yes please” He nods and finds himself allowing Patton to lead him into the baby room. A bed set up for him as well, he watches Logan be ever so careful with the baby and Patton respect his boundaries. He shrugs.

Maybe this won't be so bad.

~~~

A month later...

“Its your fucking fault!” Logan decides, Emile shushes him backing him up from Virgils heated face. “Everything that is happening is your fault!”

“Logan you're being a dick right now” Remy announces, a glare from Emile quiets him. Logan scoffs kicking the chair underneath him, scaring even Roman.

“And yours too” He points, his nasty finger threatening the detectives. “Why didn't you do anything, day after day he came to you! About Liam! And now because of your fucking negligence, he was too scared to come to you and tell you about these phone calls!”

“You know what Lo? I shouldn't have told you, as of now you have no legal bindings to Patton, so me telling you that we searched his phone and found the phone calls, that was a courtesy” Virgil spits, Logan goes to approach not sure what his next move is but thanks to Roman and James he has no time to figure it out. They command him to sit, calming both parties and get a soothing talk down.

“You know it's his fault Roman” Logan sighs exasperated, Roman nods unsure but doesn't want to to escalate.

“You know what, fuck you Logan!” Virgil screams, Logan stands.

“You're the reason those children are gonna lose their father!” Logan retorts, that catches something. Virgil pushes past Remy, almost landing one on Logan before Roman grabs him, both surprised by how well they fit together. Silly to think about at this moment.

“Maybe if you weren't so fucking cold they would see you as a father” Virgil replies once more, that hurt. Logan won't lie that his knees buckled and he might have fallen right then had Barbara and Marcy not taken him and cared for him. He wants to keep going but a chilling throat clears the room. Instantly they both look to the doctor who stands, judgmental but patient.

“Hes awake”

[aegor-bamfsteel]

So GRRM apparently said Bittersteel and Calla didn't have children, what do you think about this new information? What could be the reason for them to not have any child? Is it possible for either of them to have bastards? How does this information affect Aegon Blackfyre theory?

These are all fantastic questions, anon, and ones that my very patient followers/askers in my inbox have been waiting for me to talk about! I’ve been out of the loop on new asoiaf info due to feeling a little bummed out with fandom for a few months, so GRRM’s Summer 2018 interview actually slipped under my radar. I didn’t find any print transcripts of it when I did a hasty Google Search, so here’s a reddit thread talking about the revealed information; the only part that’s relevant to my answer is that when asked if Bittersteel aka Aegor Rivers had any offspring, GRRM replied with “No, I don’t think so.”

And now, to answer your questions under the very long and probably wanky cut:

Question 1: What do I think about this new information? Well, what GRRM said is a little different than Aegor and Calla not having children; he specifically said he thinks that Aegor probably didn’t have children. We have to consider whether or not GRRM would give out highly plot-relevant information in an interview years before the possible Big Reveal, so he might simply be lying (although I don’t recall whether or not he has directly lied before in an interview). Yet assuming this is the truth, I’m personally rather disappointed that Aegor probably didn’t have children for a few different reasons. Not because I support a theory with a ton of gaping holes in it that nobody else likes to talk about, but because I like Aegor Rivers as a(n idea of) a character and a lack of a close family life is just another personal tragedy of his.

However, the idea that Aegor never had sons (that reached fighting age/were able to fight) is from my point of view pretty clear from the text of twoiaf. I had pointed out to warsofasoiaf prior to making this account that the fact that Aegor’s sons were never mentioned in twoiaf is a strike against the Aegon Blackrivers theory; we don’t know much about Aegor, true, but we do know about his devotion to the Blackfyre cause and how Blackfyre family members personally fought in the rebellions in Westeros, so it would be out of character for Aegor not to have any putative able-bodied sons take the field. While perhaps they were too young to fight in the Third Blackfyre (especially if Aegor’s wife was in fact Calla, at least 13 years his junior), there is no excuse why they were not mentioned fighting alongside Daemon III or Maelys. The way Yandel describes leadership of the Golden Company is another strike against Aegor having sons or even later descendants; he writes that until Maelys the leadership was held by the descendants of Daemon Blackfyre rather than Aegor Rivers, and if the leadership was as nepotistic as Yandel implies, you’d think male descendants of Aegor Rivers would be the among first ones acclaimed captain-general after 241. But all of the known captains-general were Blackfyres rather than Aegor’s descendants (there was no way Aegor’s descendants would’ve been allowed to take the surname Blackfyre given the fear that he was wielding too much power over the cause, as both Daemon II’s failed Rebellion and Aenys’ arrival in Westeros demonstrates). I find it implausible that if Aegor Rivers had descendants the Golden Company would’n’t’ve known and kept them as safe as possible in anticipation of them at least joining the Company, if not fighting for the throne (certainly older exiles like Harry Strickland use their exile ancestry as a form of seniority over others, and a Bittersteel descendant would surely use his ancestry in Company politics).

But I would’ve liked Aegor to have had daughters. I think it could’ve been a bittersweet parallel to the Bracken sisters; that the sexual violence done to them by Aegon IV would give rise to women proud of their female ancestors who sought revenge on the Targaryens. After Aegon IV tortured and executed Bethany and her father and lover, Bethany’s lover Terrence Toyne was avenged by his biological brothers who killed Aemon the Dragonknight, but who was there to avenge her? She had no biological brothers, only a sister who had a son who grew up to spend his life trying to kill and displace Targaryens. It seemed that nobody cared what had happened to Bethany but Aegor. But if Aegor never had children, that lineage is dead and the cruel injuries done to Bethany and Barba can never be avenged by a direct descendant.

It’s just one more horrible thing that happened to Aegor Rivers, a character whom I admire because of his continued survival despite all odds, and it makes his character less interesting: Just like his mother’s, Aegor Rivers’ life was an unending string of tragedies; a permanent exile from 2 weeks old, at age 6 his aunt and grandfather were murdered by his sperm donor without due process, he was raised close to a disputed territory (the Mother’s Teats) that bore the scars of Targaryen cruelty (Daemon Targaryen’s dragon Caraxes had burned Bracken land in 129), and that’s not even getting into what the Targaryens/Brynd3n Riv3rs did to his chosen family the Blackfyres (they essentially slaughtered Daemon and his descendants like they weren’t human). I’d just like some hint that he could’ve been content; that maybe he was more than just an enemy for the Targs/Brynd3n Riv3rs to beat down over and over, but a character with his own life and loving bonds outside of war and tragedy. The idea that he had a wife and daughters introduced a possible different dimension to him; his descendants would’ve been a physical manifestation of his survival to live on in the face of hardship. Yet assuming GRRM speaks the truth, he was just as miserable in his personal life as he was in his dealings with Westeros.

Aegor Rivers having offspring would’ve further made him a foil for Brynd3n Riv3rs. Not because I don’t think Brynd3n Riv3rs didn’t have offspring (although I do believe he was childless), but because BR is very much associated with death and destruction. Every time he’s mentioned in D&E and aDwD, he is compared to a corpse. Each institution the Powers That Be put him in charge of he utterly ruins or dishonors, whether that be as Hand, Lord Commander of the Wall, or the Last Greenseer. By contrast, Aegor Rivers is shown to be a creator of institutions, founding a mercenary Company unusually known for its dedication to discipline, brotherhood, and honor. If he had had children, it would’ve forced the Aegor=life Brynd3n=death symbolism even harder, as Aegor would have physically created a bunch of children who lived beyond his own lifetime.

It just irritates me that GRRM seems to care so little about Aegor that he might not have even thought about him having children. That’s another interpretation to GRRM’s “I don’t think so” answer; that he put so little thought into the life of one of his more influential historical characters that he wasn’t even sure if he’d sired offspring (this is assuming, as I do, that Aegor’s possible descendants aren’t really relevant to the plot of asoiaf). GRRM has answered with “I’m not sure. I need to check my notes” to some questions about his secondary characters, such as where Oberyn Martell was during Robert’s Rebellion; and as of late he seems to have had trouble keeping his facts straight (he endorsed Elio Garcia and Linda Antonsson writing twoiaf because they apparently knew canon better than he did. Which does not make me hopeful for future book releases), but he doesn’t seem to have even had notes on the subject. And either in the same interview or one shortly before/after, GRRM confirmed that in the face of all logic, Brynd3n Riv3rs was allowed to take Dark Sister with him to the Wall despite being a criminal to the Crown with the only Valyrian sword the Targaryens had in their possession. So not only did GRRM flatten and dismiss Bittersteel’s character, but he further nullified one of the few times Bl00draven ever got comeuppance for his atrocities. There’s no sense of balance to their conflict; everything somehow goes BR’s way while BS is condemned to live a life of misery and fade away into nothing. And, contrary to what GRRM likely wanted, this double standard only makes me pity Aegor more and pray for BR’s painful death.

Question 2: What could be the reason for [Aegor and Calla] not to have a child? We know so little about what happened between Aegor and Calla that I think it’s best to look at what we do know—that shortly before the First Blackfyre Rebellion, Daemon I agreed to wed Calla to Aegor—and then examine possible answers to the outcome of Aegor+Calla being childless. Solutions that I can think of, in order of how plausible I think they are:

The marriage was never consummated: Aegor had a Targaryen sperm donor, sure, but he was raised by the Brackens and spent his life fighting against Targaryen supremacy. The idea that incest (one of the most obvious parts of Targaryens believing themselves above others) disgusted him isn’t impossible. That Calla was at least 13 years his junior and knew him since she was a child could’ve disgusted them both further. Also, Aegor was often away fighting in mercenary companies, which decreased the amount of time the two spent together to consummate. Therefore they could’ve had a sham marriage meant only to bind Aegor and the Blackfyres closer together. However, I consider this the least likely answer because 1) Yandel implies that Aegor suggested the marriage in the first place and 2) Aegor is characterized as being very focused on the Blackfyre Cause to the point of losing many of his scruples by the Fourth Rebellion (referring to his ineffectual alliance with Torwyn Greyjoy, a traditional enemy of his Riverlands home), so he’d hardly balk at uncle-niece incest.

Either Aegor or Calla were biologically unable to have children: If this is true, my money is on Aegor, since female fertility in GRRM-land seems to be passed on from mother to daughter. They stayed married until Aegor’s death in 241, and because Calla was 45-56 at the time, she never had any other children.

Calla died before she could have children, perhaps in childbirth: I hate, hate, hate this possibility since it reduces and then fridges a female character for her ability to bear children, but given GRRM’s track record of killing off married female characters in childbirth, it’s a plausible explanation. Aegor never remarried after her death and so also died childless.

Daemon I only agreed to wed the two; he didn’t even officially betrothe them, let alone had a wedding. Thus the marriage never took place at all because…

Calla died before they could wed. I also hate this possibility for creating and killing off a female character to be a cheap red herring, but again I wouldn’t put it past GRRM. In this instance, there’s a historical parallel in the figure of Princess Louisa Stuart, James "the Old Pretender” Stuart’s sister who died unmarried at age 19 from an outbreak of smallpox that struck both siblings. The same results ensued as in part C.

There was no political advantage for it to occur, so Calla married someone else: If you think Aegor was a bad match for a would-be Princess when he was a landless knight dependent on the charity of the Brackens/Blackfyres, think of how much worse he was as a landless exile in a society where knighthood and birth were largely irrelevant, he was geographically and doubtlessly monetarily cut off from the Brackens, and the Blackfyres themselves were desperate for wealthy allies. Although Calla had at least two other sisters (Calla was the eldest rather than elder daughter, implying that she had more than one sister), Rohanne was not going to waste her marriage potential on a penniless sellsword while the Targaryens were trying to curb her influence in Tyrosh via wedding two of their princes to Kiera. No, Calla and her siblings needed to make matches with powerful Tyroshi or other wealthy Essosi families in order to get the funds, ships, and armies to invade Westeros. Remember that Aegor’s chief strength, the Golden Company, didn’t materialize until 212 when Calla was 16-27 and very likely already married to an aforementioned noble.

Calla had children and her descendants still live in Tyrosh: GRRM’s response doesn’t indicate that Calla never had children, especially since it wasn’t made clear that she and Aegor even married. Bear with my tinfoil for a second, but her name indicates that she did have children. We’re supposed to pay attention to Calla’s name because it’s non-Valyrian, unique in book!canon, and above all, a flower name. GRRM loves his flower significance, most famously with Lyanna’s blue roses (unattainable, mysterious, rare beauty) but also with Jonquils (desire, vanity, a happy marriage) and the white water lilies of Maidenpool (purity, peace, spiritual enlightenment). In Calla’s case, the calla lily is a symbol of peace, Christ’s resurrection, and rebirth in the springtime. It’s also known for being able to survive harsh elements and is an odd misnomer (technically neither a calla nor a lily, but its own genus). Considering the strong rebirth connotations calla lilies have, I believe that Calla is the most likely Blackfyre child to have living descendants. That’s not to say that she is the only child of Daemon I to have them (see section 4.4.1 for further speculation on that front), but the implications of her name plus general Nominal Importance (she’s the only Blackfyre descendant we know of not to die horribly and she’s the only named female) indicate that she’s the person through which the Blackfyres survived.

Question 3: Is it possible for either [Aegor or Calla] to have bastards? If 2b is untrue and both Aegor and Calla were fertile, then it’s certainly possible for them to have bastards. After all, we know little about Aegor and even less about Calla. There are rumors that Aegor was in love with Shiera Seastar, and he was so often away from Tyrosh that it’s possible he had an extramarital affair. As for Calla, it is less likely for her to have a bastard (you’d think that if she did, Yandel would’ve mentioned it to discredit Aegor and the Blackfyres even further), but I guess it’s possible for her to have been like her grandmother Daena in that respect. But is it likely? I don’t think so. Maybe it’s just my headcanons firing away, but my idea of Aegor is someone who’s incredibly insecure about sex/sexuality due to what happened with Barba and Bethany; ergo, I don’t believe he would have recreational sex with a woman not his wife. As for Calla, she was part of a family under a lot of pressure to behave appropriately so as to give neither the Tyroshi nor the Blackfyre exiles cause for complaint. I do believe she had legitimate children (see 2.4.2), just apparently not with Aegor.

Question 4: How does this information affect Aegon Blackfyre theory? Compared to GRRM’s answers regarding other fan theories, this one is a pretty direct NO GO. Granted, it’s somewhat cagey (he simply said he probably thinks Aegor he didn’t have offspring, not any other Blackfyres), but think about how he’s responded elsewhere:

Example 1: When asked about Jon Snow’s death, he responded with a dry “You really think he’s dead, do you?” so he’s not afraid of acknowledging a twist most readers already anticipated.

Example 2: On a more important and impactful theory, R+L=J, he refused to confirm or rebut any useful information; specifically, when asked if any Stark other than Ned had children, he said that Benjen was at the Wall, Brandon could’ve sired Snows, and Lyanna died. That non-answer regarding Lyanna was often toted as evidence in favor of R+L=J until the show confirmed it in Season 6.

Example 3: When asked on his blog whether or not those who believe Sansa Stark and Jon Snow will reunite and get married/rule Winterfell together by the end of the series are right, he responded “Not going to say anymore than I have already” which is not the outright dismissal a supposed crackship (or not so crackship, as he’s outright dismissed more popular ships before) would’ve merited.

Thus: GRRM could’ve chosen to avoid or subtly answer the question like he did in these three examples, but he chose to outright confirm that Aegor likely didn’t have children. Up to this point, the most popular subtheory of Aegon VI’s alternate parentage was that he was a descendant of Aegor and Calla, based on Illyrio Mopatis’ claim that Maelys was the last male-line Blackfyre and the fact that Aegon VI has the support of the Bittersteel-founded Golden Company. Now GRRM’s response seems to have brought that theory down; Aegor had no children, so Aegon VI could not be his descendant.

However, rebutting Aegon Blackrivers is not the same as rebutting Aegon Blackfyre. There are several of Daemon’s children who are not confirmed to have died childless: Haegon had at least three sons who may’ve had daughters, Aenys may’ve had daughters, the two youngest sons of Daemon I may’ve had children, Calla may’ve had children by someone other than Aegor, Calla had at least two sisters who could’ve had children, and Captain Daemon Blackfyre and Maelys could’ve had daughters. The potential candidates for female-line Blackfyres is still rather large. The idea that the Golden Company would allow their king’s descendant to grow up apart from them on a poleboat amidst a bunch of Westerosi exiles rather than in Tyrosh actually learning statecraft from his noble family is a strange one, but I leave those explanations to those who actually believe in the theory. (For my part, I believe Illyrio when he said no Blackfyre will take the Golden Company home, but a Targaryen will. He just may not be the Targaryen Westeros or the readers expected.)

In conclusion, I am disappointed that Aegor Rivers was confirmed to not have had children due to character- rather than theory-based reasons; I would’ve preferred that a character that had faced such adversity had a physical representation of his survival in some descendants, but I can live with the Golden Company being his legacy. There are any number of reasons why he never had any legitimate children, but I like to think it was because he remained unwed and devoted to the Blackfyre Cause while Calla had children with someone else. I’ve read some writings by those who subscribe to the Aegon Blackfyre theory, and I can only hope that this new information teaches fandom to speculate a bit more kindly. If someone disagrees with your theory for whatever reason, never call them delusional or say that they are “just fooling themselves.” Never take any theory as obvious, as everything is speculation until confirmed by canon or Word of G-d. Always consider other people’s arguments and try to build your theory based on the text rather than warp the text to fit your theory. And above all, listen with compassion.

Thank you for your interesting set of questions, anon. I hope that I have done them justice in my response.

[jaxsonharry1]

4 Canceled Iron Man Movies You Should Know About

Iron Man is the prime member of the team Avengers. The popular Hollywood actor Robert Downey Jr. has played the role of Tony Stark/Iron Man in all the Iron Man and Avengers films. Tony Stark was first introduced as a superhero to the fans in the film Iron Man, which was directed by Jon Favreau and released in 2008. Iron Man was a blockbuster and the first movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Later Tony Stark joined the Avengers and gained a lot of fame and popularity from there.

Tony Stark could have appeared even before the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and several attempts have been made to release Tony on the big screen, but somehow all the plans got canceled. It is hard to imagine an Iron Man movie without Robert Downey Jr. playing the role of Tony Stark/Iron Man in that movie. But there were several chances to release Iron Man at an early stage, but it did not happen.

Here we will discuss all four canceled movies of the Iron Man and why they were canceled.

Stuart Gordon’s Iron Man

The starting stage of Marvel in the Hollywood film industry was full of struggles, and they faced several obstacles in releasing their movies on the big screen. When James Cameron’s Spider-Man was canceled, at the same time, Universal wanted to make a low-budget Iron Man movie with Stuart Gordon as the director of the movie. The story of this Iron Man was written by Ed Neumeier.

Fox’s Iron Man (Starring Tom Cruise)

Universal had the rights to the Iron Man movie since 1990, and after six years, Universal gave up making an Iron Man movie and sold their rights to Fox in 1996. The writer Jeff Vintar along with Stan Lee, wrote a new story for a new Iron Man movie starring Tom Cruise because he wanted to work in an Iron Man movie. Later, Cruise denied working in this film for some reason, and after the release of Robert Downey’s Iron Man, he told people in an interview that Robert is his favorite and no one could ever replace him as the Iron Man.

New Line’s Iron Man

There were many Iron Man movie scripts written under the supervision of New Line. But these ideas were of no use and finally the film was canceled once again. When no one could finalize the concept of Iron Man then, the rights were given to Marvel Studios at the end. Favreau’s Iron Man was a big hit on the screen, and that was a gamble by the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

War Machine Solo Movie

War Machine was a title given to James Rhodes also known as Rhodey was a character played by the actor Terrence Howard in the first part of the Iron Man series. He was the best and loyal friend of Tony Stark. Marvel already had plans to convert Rhodey into a superhero. In the next part of the Iron Man series which was released in 2010 as Iron Man 2, Tony Stark created a metal armor for Rhodey. Howard was replaced by the actor Don Cheadle to play the role of Rhodey till Avengers: Endgame. Rhodey was one of the close friends of Tony Stark, and despite their different mindsets, they remained loyal to each other.

Joe Robert Cole, who was the co-writer of the Black Panther, revealed that according to him, Marvel Studios was planning to give James Rhodes a chance in his solo War Machine movie in February 2018. Even though his movie was not able to release and got canceled but still, he has chances to replace Iron Man in the new phase of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Charlie Wilson is a Norton expert and has been working in the technology industry since 2002. As a technical expert, Charlie has written technical blogs, manuals, white papers, and reviews for many websites such as norton.com/setup.

Source: 4 Canceled Iron Man Movies You Should Know About.

Tags:Iron Man, Movies

[mrmichaelchadler]

Obsession and The Void: The Performances of Christian Bale

In an early scene in Mary Harron’s “American Psycho,” youthful and Adonis-like stockbroker Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale) runs through his almost pornographically detailed morning routine: a workout with 1,000 crunches, an array of hair and skincare products, all in an exact order to present “an idea of a Patrick Bateman.” Bale performs the scene with a blank fastidiousness, showing no joy or even stray morning wakeup feelings of exhaustion or boredom, all while narrating in a calm but detached tone of a magazine readout. There is a similar scene in the opening of “American Hustle” that functions as a parody, in which Bale’s con man Irving Rosenthal, flabby and balding, puts just as much work into maintaining his elaborately pathetic combover with a far more careful level of focus, a sense that what he’s doing to prepare himself has a real function. The two men are at different ends of the food chain, one obscenely wealthy, the other scrambling to get by; one is cold and unfeeling, the other empathetic and desperately human. Their commonality, then, is how much they have to work to do just to maintain a sense of self, to show that they have a reason for being, even if only to those on the outside looking in. 

That’s in line with much of the praise, and sometimes the criticisms, of Bale’s career. He’s undoubtedly skillful at reshaping his own appearance—often gaining or losing weight to extreme degrees—but the focus is frequently put on the surface external appearances, lauding how he’s become “unrecognizable” (both an exaggeration and more accurately praise for the makeup crew) or knocking his work for being too focused on nailing an impression or a physical quality at the expense of emotional connection. This misunderstands Bale’s strengths, however: he is an actor for whom physical transformation is but an anchoring facet to a depiction of obsession, be it Patrick Bateman’s pathological need to project normality to hide his depravity in “American Psycho,” Irving Rosenthal’s need to project success to attain some sad measure of it in “American Hustle,” or Dicky Eklund’s fixation on his one brush with greatness as a fighter to stave off the truth of his all-consuming crack addiction in “The Fighter.” They’re people who feel a deep need to construct or pursue some idealized form of self as a way to succeed or survive. It’s reflected in Bale’s own process, in which he seemingly constructs a façade, an attempt to hide himself, in order to find something authentic in his roles. The prosthetics, the hair changes and the punishing fluctuations in weight can sometimes be a crutch, but they’re also directly tied to the ring of truth in his best performances.

Bale’s new film, the Dick Cheney biopic “Vice,” has drawn fiercely polarized responses, with criticisms thrown both at typical Great Man Movie problems (lumpy one-thing-after-another structure, an over-explanatory script) and writer-director Adam McKay’s own additions (divisive fourth wall breaks and an uneasy tone that walks a thin line between “lacerating” and “lecturing”). The actor's deceptively sensitive work as Cheney, however, does showcase much of what makes him interesting as a performer beyond the bodily transformations and close attention to detail: he plays people with a single-minded obsession that outweighs other concerns, a need to pursue it at all costs or else fall into the void of their lives, and a self-presentation meant to prop it up.

One could look at any number of Bale performances to highlight this, but these five best discuss the range of emotions and tones he’s able to explore while exemplifying this theme.

"Empire of the Sun" / Warner Bros. Pictures

1987: “Empire of the Sun”

When Steven Spielberg cast 12-year-old Christian Bale as Jamie “Jim” Graham in his adaptation of J.G. Ballard’s semi-autobiographical novel, he had no way of knowing his young lead actor would grow up to become one of the biggest stars of his generation. Even so, “Empire of the Sun,” the story of an English boy coming of age in Japanese-occupied China, marks the breakthrough of an extraordinarily gifted young actor, one with a real skill for sketching out the death of innocence. Bale’s early scenes show a classic Spielbergian dreamer, one whose fixation on airplanes shows no real understanding of the ideology behind the battles or the life-or-death situations that people find themselves in. He looks to everyday misery (beggars in the street) with curiosity but not compassion, and his casual cruelty to his family’s Chinese servant (a matter-of-fact, disinterested “you have to do what I say” when told his mom doesn’t want him eating before bed) is less out of a sense of superiority than a total lack of understanding of how his privilege dictates her life, to the point where he's completely shocked when that same servant slaps him after the Japanese invade and she no longer has to pretend to respect him. 

As Jamie falls in with John Malkovich’s savvy crook Basie and they’re both sent to an internment camp, Bale shows a child’s adaptability, rushing through the camp and carrying out chores to win over everyone from his mentor to his captors. He’s at once a young opportunist and an earnest child, one whose mimicry of Malkovich and company (adopted American clothing, repeated jokes without understanding their cruelty) never quite gives way to comprehending that they don’t care about him (his sincere declaration that Basie is his friend is met with little more than amusement from the older man). At the same time, his admiration for the Japanese—a childlike fascination both with their aircraft and their sense of honor—protects him from the harsh realities of the camp, where people are beaten and starved or left to disease. In a late scene, Bale’s shift from unbridled joy at seeing bombers in action (hugging himself, cheering) to emotional breakdown after he’s rebuked by an elder (“I can’t remember what my parents look like”) show how much he’s depended on a fantastical sense of the world to escape how little he has left. His adoption of American habits and Basie’s theory of survivalism, paired with his salutes and bows to Japanese military men with a palpable sense of respect, is a child’s way of playing war games, an ideology- and nationality-blind view of war straight out of boys’ games and comics. Jamie has to act it out, or else realize that there’s little honor in doing whatever it takes to survive and that he’s unlikely to make it out in one piece. If the film and performance show a child’s resilience, they also show how quickly their views of the world can crumble, yielding only pain.

"Velvet Goldmine" / Miramax

1998: “Velvet Goldmine”

A few notable exceptions like his cocky performance in “Newsies” aside, Bale spent much of the ‘90s giving quietly sensitive, soulful supporting performances that he’s since only reprised on occasion (most effectively for Terrence Malick, who yielded one of his very best performances as John Rolfe in “The New World,” where Bale somehow makes unfailing kindness magnetic). Bale is very good in literary adaptations such as Gillian Armstrong’s “Little Women” (as the charming, lovelorn Laurie), but his best work of this period is in Todd Haynes’ “Velvet Goldmine” as Arthur Stuart, a music journalist reminiscing about his self-discovery as a gay man in the glam rock era. Haynes’ film borrows its structure from “Citizen Kane,” attempting to find how Jonathan Rhys-Meyers pop superstar Brian Slade disappeared, but it also works as a “Kane” for Bale’s character, who’s introduced in the middle of a youthful, “A Hard Day’s Night” rush to a concert, all teased hair and youthful excitement. Then we’re yanked to 1984, and his eyes are sunken, his demeanor sad and reticent. What happened that brought him to this place?

Bale’s greatness as a physical actor is often yoked to his extreme dedication to losing and gaining pounds, but “Velvet Goldmine” can serve as an example of how he can use his body to tell a story. He plays teenage Arthur with a measure of shyness that suggests a boy who hasn’t yet found an outlet for his dreams or a place to be himself; he hangs his head in embarrassment when he’s told his musical hero is a “poof” and that he himself is “disgusting.” Contrast that with his first strut on the streets of London minutes later, in a tight purple shirt, a moment of freedom that’s both liberating and frightening, his gait more open but still uncertain. The rest of his journey in the ‘70s scenes of the film is a navigation between those two poles of repression—his heaving frame as his father shames him for his homosexuality—and short-lived freedom, including a first romantic connection with rock star Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor). It makes his scenes in 1984 all the more painful, in which a withdrawn, older (and older-looking) Arthur shuffles through the streets, looking as if he’s trying to blend in with everything rather than stand out on his own. 

Bale plays the role not as someone who’s found a permanent new identity and acceptance, but rather as someone who, briefly, saw a better life and the first stabs of individuality in the music and fashions that meant so much to him, before those small gains were rolled back and a new, more powerful form of repression turned his world to gray. Perhaps Arthur wouldn’t have stayed glammed up his whole life—most people don’t look and dress like they did when they were teenagers—but he’s stuck in a point in time where he can’t even find a modest form of self-expression. Bale the actor locates that moment of temporary self-discovery and shows just how it’s so intoxicating: it’s a first assertion of self, even in an idealized form. That adult Arthur can’t fully break from that fixation is understandable; that he should be required to totally deny any semblance of it is tragic.

"American Psycho" / Lions Gate Films

2000: “American Psycho”

Bale really arrived as a Great Actor™ with “American Psycho,” the first film that showcased his ability to dramatically transform his appearance for a role. Bale hasn’t shaken his attraction to these challenges, and while he usually manages to transcend the stunt-y nature of these roles (“The Fighter,” “Rescue Dawn,” the otherwise tedious “The Machinist”), there are times where the trick is more impressive than the performance (“I'm Not There,” the “Dark Knight” trilogy). Still, none of this detracts from his work as psychopathic yuppie Patrick Bateman, which remains his most iconic performance. 

“American Psycho” director Mary Harron has spoken about Bale being inspired by a Tom Cruise talk show appearance in which the star displayed “intense friendliness with nothing behind the eyes,” and the film itself draws parallels between him and President Ronald Reagan’s use of sunny optimism to sell cruel policies. Either comparison works: in his public life, Bateman has a near-permanent tone of unfailing cheerfulness, discussing the importance of ending apartheid and world hunger as he flashes a killer smile. His eyes, however, always have the glint of predator, a coldness that only occasionally breaks through in creepy remarks, delivered with the same psychotic chipperness (“Not if you want to keep your spleen”) that might not hide their perverted nature if any of his friends were a little less self-absorbed and a little more perceptive.

What’s brilliant about Bale and Harron’s conception of Bateman is that they’re able to convey the character’s essential loneliness without losing the humor or downplaying the grotesque nature of his (possibly imaginary) crimes. Most talk about Bale’s performance focuses on his informercial slick delivery of Huey Lewis factoids before chopping up Jared Leto with an axe. More telling, however, is his scene with Chloe Sevigny’s secretary, in which Bale shifts from blithe morbidity (bringing up Ted Bundy’s dog, Lassie) to psychotic fixation on consumerism (lashing out at Sevigny for almost leaving an ice cream-covered spoon on his coffee table) to insincere, monotone openness (“I guess you could say I just want to have a meaningful relationship with someone”) to, finally, a real recognition of his own hideousness (“I think if you stay, something bad will happen,” delivered with something that approaches but doesn't quite reach sadness).

Bateman’s cruelty and emptiness couldn’t be plainer, and yet he finds no release in his actions or his confessions. We see that morning routine, the search for the perfect business card, the hunt for the reservation at the best restaurant, and see an attempt to assume the role of the idealized yuppie, but it’s all work ... no soul, no joy. The same goes for Bateman’s more sociopathic actions, whether it’s a self-regarding attempt at a threesome (in which he’s more enamored with striking godlike poses than the sex itself) or stabbing a homeless man on the street. He has the impulses that give him a brief flash of life, but there's little catharsis. Bale plays his compulsions, both murderous and consumerist, as those of a joyless man who attempts to approximate enjoyment. His intense commitment to the role’s physical requirements mimics the character’s own intense commitment to a lifestyle, but where one finds a pulse, the other finds a pit. If most of Bale’s characters attempt to outrun an emptiness or pain in their lives, Bateman is his own emptiness, and no amount of heavy lifting and slashing can change it.

"The Prestige" / Warner Bros. Pictures

2006: “The Prestige”

If “American Psycho” made Bale a name actor and “The Machinist” cemented his reputation for near-deranged commitment, “Batman Begins” and “The Dark Knight” made him universally recognizable, physical transformations be damned. Truth be told, his most famous films with Christopher Nolan aren’t his most notable, succeeding primarily on the basis of their villains and thematic ambition. While he’s admirably grounded and present as Bruce Wayne, Bale never quite dives into the monster that Batman's alter ego is fighting so hard not to be; his line readings are too glum, his face too stoic, rarely registering the internal struggle that Nolan’s scripts try (a little too hard) to give him (for a better heroic Bale performance, see “3:10 to Yuma”). It’s his other collaboration with Nolan, “The Prestige,” that best exemplifies that inner conflict and, indeed, the defining theme of Bale’s career.

There’s no way to talk about Bale’s performance in “The Prestige” meaningfully without diving into spoilers, so here’s your warning.

Bale’s Alfred Borden is established as the more risk-taking of “The Prestige’s” central characters, compared with Hugh Jackman’s Robert Angier, something hinted in early scenes as the actor speaks to Angier and Michael Caine’s Cutter with an air of arrogance and almost demented devotion to the craft. This extends to his personal life, which is eventually revealed to be a literal double life: Bale’s playing both Borden and his twin (dubbed “Fallon”), who loved separate women (Rebecca Hall and Scarlet Johansson) and ruined their lives through a total obsession and commitment to their craft over all else. Observant viewers can spot the moments in which Bale’s warmth with Sarah (Hall), Borden’s wife, is genuine and when “Fallon” is speaking to her with nothing behind the eyes. One particularly painful scene, a final confrontation between “Fallon” and Sarah, features one of the most gutting moments in Bale’s career, in which his anger at her realization of the truth prevents him from even attempting to maintain the illusion. Asked if he loves her, he spits out a “Not today” with a level of coldness worthy of Patrick Bateman.

The performance is, on some level, as much of a stunt as “The Machinist” or “Batman Begins,” but the trick of it feels all the more appropriate, given the subject. Bale imbues his twin magicians with a combination of mischievousness and palpable sadness, showing a flash of joy in their eyes after showing a child a magic trick ... and a sense of loss as the twins face each other, knowing only one can exist. Perhaps Bale found something moving in the idea of men who find purpose in deceiving viewers in order to entertain them, and in the idea of men who are madly committed to realizing an idealized form of craft at the expense of their personal identities. The dual performance shows two men who are constantly amused at their own ability to pull off a trick (especially at the expense of bitter rival Angier) and simultaneously aware that they’ve sacrificed true happiness for an obsession that they seem to be pursuing without any real thought as to why.

"The Big Short" / Paramount

2015: “The Big Short”

By the late 2000s, Bale’s own commitment to his craft seemed to have lost real direction, lapsing into self-seriousness (“Terminator Salvation,” “Harsh Times,” his dull work in the otherwise sturdy “Public Enemies”) or pure imitation (“I’m Not There,” in which he’s by far the weakest Bob Dylan). Whatever the weaknesses of post-“I Heart Huckabees” David O. Russell (shapelessness, self-satisfaction, volume over everything), he managed to get Bale to loosen up as few directors beyond Gillian Armstrong and Werner Herzog had, directing a pair of lively performances in “The Fighter” (for which Bale won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor) and “American Hustle” (another nomination). Bale is at his best as of late when tapping into his comedic side, as best demonstrated in his first collaboration with Adam McKay, “The Big Short” (a third nomination). 

Playing hedge fund manager Michael Burry, the oddest of the men who made millions by betting the U.S. economy would collapse, Bale roots the comedy of the character in his behavior. A whiz with numbers, Bale’s Burry nevertheless has no social skills; the humor of his bizarre compliment (“That’s a very nice haircut. Did you do it yourself?”) to prospective employee is not only in its inherent strangeness, but in his halting delivery and blank expression, as if he knows he’s not good with these interactions but not exactly why the thing he’s about to say is weird. His gestures are similarly uncomfortable, whether he’s flashing a smile for no reason or awkwardly rubbing at his glass eye while stammering about subprime mortgages. And yet, Burry is one of the least deceptive and most honest characters in Bale’s three-decade career, focused entirely on the tangible at the expense of more difficult-to-pin-down things like social niceties and gut instinct. It is a very different, but equally telling, echo of Bale’s own methods that one can find in his more deluded characters. If Dicky Eklund or Irving Rosenthal act in self-deception to convince themselves and others of something, Burry concentrates only on what he can see empirically to find his truth, not unlike how Bale drills down on tangible external details (hair, weight, voice) as a way to find his own.

If Bale’s performance in “The Big Short” is his funniest, it is also among his saddest, as his character’s obsession with numbers at the expense of person-to-person interactions make him both the ideal person to predict a market collapse and the worst person to convey it. When confronted by angry investors, he does little to assuage their concerns, instead speaking in a low but self-assured tone (at the idea that nobody can see a bubble: “That’s dumb ... ”) that he can’t see is doomed to only further enrage people. When he’s rebuked, he can admit his weaknesses, but not without reinforcing his total conviction in what he does. “I don’t know how to be sarcastic,” Bale says with a slight shrug and a tone that’s equally confessional and weary. “I just know how to read numbers.” It’s the rare Bale character where one’s obsession is what can help spot the looming, soul-and-economy-destroying void, even if it can’t help avert it. 

"Vice" / Annapurna Pictures

This makes for a fascinating polar opposite to his most recent McKay-directed performance. Like Bateman and others before him, Bale’s Cheney in "Vice" is a cold-hearted cipher, a man so consumed with the idea of power and the need and ability to wield it that questions of ethics, morality or popularity never elicit a moment’s thought. His measured cadence and small gestures (a small head jerk on “different understanding,” a shift from a guarded posture to a hand wave on “mundane” to suggest a helping hand) show someone who has weighed exactly what he has to do to pull someone over to his side in a way that makes them think he’s nudging them along to where they always wanted to be, rather than totally manipulating them. 

Bale actually almost played George W. Bush himself in Oliver Stone’s “W.” before finding the prosthetics weren’t to his satisfaction (another case of needing tangible details, or self-deception, for a successful performance), but he feels like a better fit for Cheney, a man hiding behind a façade of reserved normality to hide an all-consuming desire for expanded empire, denying ulterior motives to the public and possibly to himself. The world is remade in his cruel image in a way that persists to this day, and that will be near-impossible to change. If Burry, like Bateman, can clearly see the void, Cheney, like Bateman, is the void.

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