#Ivan Morris Howe

[joelmchaleit]

Wine time already?

Benedict Cumberbatch as Vincent Anderson, Gaby Hoffmann as Cassandra Anderson and Ivan Morris Howe as Edgar Anderson in

ERIC ( 2024 )

[tv-moments]

Eric

“Episode 1”

Director: Lucy Forbes

DoP: Benedict Spence

[jackets1213]

Edgar Anderson Eric 2024 Quilted Jacket

Product Specifications:

Inspired by: Ivan Morris Howe

External Material: Fabric

Inner: Viscose Lining

Front: Buttoned Closure

Collar Detachable Hooded Collar

Color: Red and Beige

Pockets: Two Outside and Two Inside

Sleeves: Full-length Sleeves

SHOP NOW

[boomgers]

Los monstruos de verdad no viven bajo la cama… “Eric”

Ambientada en Nueva York durante la década de 1980, la miniserie es un thriller emotivo que narra la búsqueda desesperada de un padre después de que su hijo desaparece una mañana de camino a la escuela.

Vincent, uno de los titiriteros más famosos de Nueva York y creador de un popularísimo programa infantil de televisión, enfrenta dificultades para sobrellevar la pérdida de su hijo, Edgar. Cada vez más afligido, impredecible y lleno de odio hacia sí mismo y de culpa por la desaparición del chico, Vincent se aferra a los dibujos que Edgar hizo de Eric, una marioneta de un monstruo azul, convencido de que, si logra que Eric aparezca en televisión, Edgar regresará a casa. A medida que el comportamiento destructivo de Vincent aleja a su familia, a sus colegas y a los detectives que intentan ayudarlo, Eric, en un delirio que surge de la necesidad, se convierte en el único aliado en la desesperada búsqueda.

Estreno: 30 de mayo de 2024 en Netflix.

Creada por Abi Morgan y dirigida por Lucy Forbes, la miniserie cuenta con las actuaciones de Benedict Cumberbatch, Gaby Hoffmann, Ivan Morris Howe, McKinley Belcher III, Jeff Hephner, Dan Fogler, Clarke Peters, Bamar Kane, Alexis Molnar, entre otros.

[tacticalhimbo]

REMEMBERING PULSE NIGHTCLUB - COMMUNITY COALITION AGAINST ONEPULSE

The only prominent post going around about the Pulse Nightclub shooting in 2016 is my own, and is unfortunately cursed to the fate of receiving reblogs of an inaccurate version. So, 8 years later, I'm doing the right thing and making a new post to properly honor the victims and their families.

May these beautiful souls rest in peace, and may we never forget their names (not in picture order, afaik):

Stanley Almodovar III, 23

Amanda Alvear, 25

Oscar A Aracena-Montero, 26

Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33

Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21

Martin Benitez Torres, 33

Antonio D Brown, 30

Darryl R Burt II, 29

Jonathan A Camuy Vega, 24

Angel L Candelario-Padro, 28

Simon A Carrillo Fernandez, 31

Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25

Luis D Conde, 39

Cory J Connell, 21

Tevin E Crosby, 25

Franky J Dejesus Velazquez, 50

Deonka D Drayton, 32

Mercedes M Flores, 26

Peter O Gonzalez-Cruz, 22

Juan R Guerrero, 22

Paul T Henry, 41

Frank Hernandez, 27

Miguel A Honorato, 30

Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40

Jason B Josaphat, 19

Eddie J Justice, 30

Anthony L Laureano Disla, 25

Christopher A Leinonen, 32

Brenda L Marquez McCool, 49

Jean C Mendez Perez, 35

Akyra Monet Murray, 18

Kimberly Morris, 37

Jean C Nieves Rodriguez, 27

Luis O Ocasio-Capo, 20

Geraldo A Ortiz-Jimenez, 25

Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36

Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32

Enrique L Rios Jr, 25

Juan P Rivera Velazquez, 37

Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, 24

Christopher J Sanfeliz, 24

Xavier Emmanuel Serrano Rosado, 35

Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez, 25

Edward Sotomayor Jr, 34

Shane E Tomlinson, 33

Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25

Luis S Vielma, 22

Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37

Jerald A Wright, 31

Will it gain the traction it needs? Probably not. But I'm not as... distant, about today, as I have been over the years. Because let's face it... This hits close to home for me. I said this in my original posting, too:

As someone who lives relatively near Orlando, I remember this day so vividly and I still feel a lot of pain for the victims even five years later.

I remember biting back tears in my living room because I wasn't out of the closet, and couldn't let my family know just how much this hurt me. I remember breaking down that night while scrolling the headlines, watching as the number of fatalities kept climbing. I remember staring at the button on Facebook asking me if I was safe.

And to this day, even with those involved and responsible gone... I still do not feel safe as a queer man in this state or in this country.

More importantly, though, it's important to highlight the community impacted by it, and the way onePULSE and its founder (Barbara Poma), the city of Orlando, and the State of Florida have exploited and continue to exploit the deaths of these individuals.

Information from here on out will be taken from the Community Coalition Agaisnt a Pulse Museum's official website, which can be found at the following link: [ LINK ]

The Community Coalition Against a Pulse Museum (CCAPM) is a group of surviving victims, family members of victims, activists, and scholars who have banded together to fight against the onePULSE Foundation's privatized memorial and museum complex. Our position is that money raised in the name of the mass shooting should go to the continued care of survivors. A public memorial park that does not seek to capitalize on the mass shooting in any way is the only option for a just memorial.

In addition, we seek justice for mass shooting victims by exposing the history and scope of unpermitted renovations and code violations at Pulse, which impaired the escape and rescue of shooting victims. We believe that Pulse owners Rosario Poma and Barbara Poma should be held accountable for these violations, rather than continuing to profit from a tragedy that was exacerbated by their illegal business decisions. We also want to see the City of Orlando held accountable for their continued failure to enforce the law and bring the business into compliance.

So what are the prominent issues?

WE ARE AGAINST COMMODIFYING MASS MURDER

The onePULSE Foundation has placed a gift shop feet away from where 49 people were murdered on the site of the interim memorial. We firmly renounce putting any price tag on the murder of our loved ones. The proposed museum is also slated to have a gift shop and a price of admission.

WE ARE AGAINST TURNING A PUBLIC TRAGEDY INTO PRIVATE PROFITS

Pulse nightclub owner, Barbara Poma, refused to sell the property to the City of Orlando for a public memorial. Instead, she created the onePULSE Foundation and has taken an executive salary in her self-made position as CEO. Perks have also included national recognition, celebrity, political connections, and undeserved accolades as an LGBTQ+ ally.

WE ARE AGAINST TURNING A MASS SHOOTING INTO A TOURIST ATTRACTION

The onePULSE Foundation has received a $10 MILLION tourism development tax grant from Orange County for the building of a museum. The tax application shows how the proposed memorial/museum complex has been intended to increase tourism during the off-season. The corporate Board of Trustees also reflects the local tourism industry.

WE SUPPORT INVESTING IN THE CONTINUED CARE OF SURVIVORS

Money raised in the name of the mass shooting at Pulse is going to multi-million dollar buildings rather than the continued care of the people who were directly affected. Available services and organizations have not provided adequate care to survivors and the onePULSE Foundation has not stepped in to fill any gaps; focusing instead on cultural and "educational" programs, while ignoring the ongoing needs of survivors.

WE CALL OUT A CHANGING MISSION

For years, the onePULSE Foundation raised funds for community grants for victims' families and survivors. In 2019, "community grants" were removed from the organization's mission. According to the released 2018 990s, only $1k was spent on community grants. People have donated money to the organization thinking that they were helping survivors.

WE ACKNOWLEDGE CONFLICTS OF INTEREST

onePULSE Foundation CEO Barbara Poma is currently being sued by survivors and victims' families as part of a security negligence lawsuit. This lawsuit also alleges the illegal transfer of the Pulse nightclub property which was transferred via quit claim deed in the months after the shooting to two other LLCs owned by Barbara and Rosario Poma. Funds raised by the non-profit are being invested in the Pulse property that the Poma's still own.

As of 2024, this case is still pending, with the latest service list being posted on the docket as of June 11. The case number is publicly available (2018-CA-006102-O) and is searchable via the Orange County Clerk of Courts Record Search.

WE AFFIRM A PUBLIC MEMORIAL PARK IS STILL POSSIBLE

Public memorial parks have been the overwhelming response to mass shootings around the country, including Aurora, Columbine, Las Vegas, and Newtown. Most have been built by volunteers, with no executive salaries. The OnePULSE Foundation's proposed museum attraction seeks to unnecessarily turn the shooting into a spectacle and requires merchandising the tragedy. Mass murder is not for sale!

WE CONTINUE TO EXPOSE UNPERMITTED RENOVATIONS AND CODE VIOLATIONS

Public records affirm that Pulse Nightclub was a death trap due to its unpermitted renovations and code violations. Documents show that these issues affected the both the escape and rescue of Pulse survivors on June 12, 2016. We continue to collect, document, and uncover these issues since the City of Orlando has still not released all relevant records to the public.

Survivors of the incident, as well as their families and those who have faced similar tragedy, have also signed an open letter [ LINK ] calling attention to these issues, provided documented evidence of the above claims [ LINK ], and have also been running a petition since 2019 to call attention to the matter:

Of course, it is important to note that the individuals mentioned (Barbara Poma, the Orlando City Council, etc.) are not the only ones involved in making this state an unsafe place for its queer community.

As noted in my original posting as well, the unsafe nature of this state runs through its government. The fight for our rights, our recognition, and our safety still continues. Here are some facts from the original post (dated June 12, 2021):

In June 2021, the Governor of Florida vetoed an "item-lined budget bill" - that legally provides mental health, counseling, and compensation directly towards victims of the June 2016 Pulse nightclub Orlando shooting.

While they cannot be enforced, sodomy laws still exist in Florida to this day. Every year, we are still criminalized by a technicality.

In many places, same-sex domestic partnerships are still not granted. It is only viable in approximately nine counties, thirty cities, and one town.

It took until 2016 for same-sex couples to be granted the same parental rights during in vitro fertilization and surrogacy as opposite-sex couples. Before then, the non-biological mother and father was not the child's legal parent nor guardian.

The state's "hate crime law" only accounts for sexual orientation, and does not protect victims who were attacked for their gender identity.

Anti-discrimination laws for sexual orientation and gender identity are not state-wide nor equally applicable within each county/town.

On June 1, 2021, Governor of Florida Ron DeSantis signed a bill to exclude transgender women from participating in sports designated for female students. This bill passed because of a last-minute legislative "procedural maneuver". The HRC is currently establishing a campaign to try and stop the law from going into effect (called "nullification") on midnight July 1.

Gay-panic and Trans-panic are still viable legal defenses, resulting in these abhorrent hate crimes to be decreased from murder to the lesser charge of manslaughter.

Conversion therapy against minors is not banned state-wide, and is still legal within many areas of the state. In fact, in some areas, a ban on the practice is deemed "unenforceable".

And that is just the tip of the iceberg, because if you've been active in your advocacy for the community (or at the very least, following me for a decent period of time)... Then you know just how unsafe Florida has become. You know how, even under the Biden administration, people like Governor Ron DeSantis have gone unchallenged in their writing and enforcement of vile legislation. You know how this legislation has begun creeping its way up to the top, to the federal level, and remained unchallenged the whole way up.

Here are some more "fun facts" about just how much we must fight against in the wake of this tragedy:

States like Florida have eliminated 80% of all trans adult care (SB 254), adults can be thrown in jail for using the bathroom of their gender identity (SB 1674), and trans people with correct gender markers on their drivers licenses can be charged with fraud (Florida Dept. of Highway Safety and Motor Vehicles memo).

The State of Florida has had several travel advisories issued against it by local LGBTQ+ organizations (e.g., Equality Florida) and national organizations (e.g., Human Rights Campaign).

Likewise, many social media laws targeting "adult content and pornography" (HB 3) include sneaky, vague language that will very much target the existence of queer folk using the internet in this state.

More states within the United States are explicitly passing anti-trans legislation than not, and moreso now than ever [ source; dated June 4th ].

The time for relying on those above us is over. We MUST kill the plague of individualism and build community. If we don't support one another, nobody will. No amount of pinkwashing, placation, or sanitation will change that.

We are here. We are queer. We will never forget, and we cannot allow ourselves to.

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

Cry of the Werewolf

A few minutes into Henry Levin’s debut feature, CRY OF THE WEREWOLF (1944, Tubi, YouTube), John Abbott, the tour guide at the Marie La Tour Museum of the Supernatural, intones in his mellifluous voice, “We will now proceed to the voodoo room,” and I almost fell out of my chair laughing. Maybe it was lack of sleep or a hitherto undiscovered side effect of Ozempic. But then, most of the film seemed utterly ludicrous to me. Columbia Pictures’ attempt to cash in on Universal’s classic horror cycle is a rather limp noodle, proving that when they’re not directed by Joseph Lewis or William Castle, the studio’s B output isn’t anything to cheer about.

Dr. Morris (Fritz Leiber), head of the museum, has discovered the resting place of New Orleans werewolf Marie La Tour. This does not please her daughter (Nina Foch), a Romany princess who’s inherited her mother’s habit of turning into a wolf to dispatch her enemies. She takes out the old man, and then has to deal with his son (Stephen Crane) and the police, headed by Barton MacLane. The script never really clarifies why she would kill someone to keep the grave a secret beyond a vague desire for privacy. There’s a telling line at an inquest when Crane refers to her tribe’s superstitions, and she says, “What you call superstition we call religion,” but this was not the era to examine that idea as a reflection of Western colonialism. Instead, we get a lot of skulking around in the dark, a few shots of a wolf’s shadow and feet and a sequence lifted from CAT PEOPLE (1942) by people who didn’t understand how it worked.

There are a few decent camera angles, and at least it all moves fast. MacLane does a good job, and you get nice character turns by Blanche Yurka and Ivan Triesault. Foch tries hard and gets off some good line readings, but she can’t exude menace the way a Gale Sondergaard could. Of course, it doesn’t help that her character is all over the place. At one point she’s coldly threatening a fellow Romany who’s made himself a suspect. At another she’s crying because she had to kill him. Leading lady Osa Massen works well as the museum’s receptionist and Crane’s love interest. When Foch puts her in a trance, it’s different from her non-trance behavior. A lot of horror film actresses have problems with that sort of thing. As for Crane, or Mr. Lana Turner as he was known then, he’s rather lumpen. But then, he wouldn’t inflict his acting on an unsuspecting public for long before he gave it up to become a successful and influential restauranteur.

[illusoryfem]

2023 Reads

(☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ Will reblog and update monthly. 

Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf (💖)

The Beauty and the Spindler by Neil Gaiman

The Nutcracker by E. T. A Hoffman

Burnout Society by Byung-Chul Han (💖)

House of Many Ways by Diana Wynne Jones

Persuasion by Jane Austen

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier (💖)

How Fiction Works by James Wood (💖)

The Complete Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi (💖)

 The Death of Ivan Ilych by Leo Tolstoy (💖)

 Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie

Quarto de Despejo / Child of the Dark by Carolina Maria de Jesus (💖)

 O Sujeito na Contemporaneidade by Joel Birman

Chronicle of a Death Foretold by Gabriel García Márquez (💖)

Cunk on Everything: The Encyclopedia Philomena by Jason A. Hazeley, Joel P. Morris

The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty

Western Attitudes Toward Death by Philippe Ariès (💖)

Equal Rites (Discworld, #3; Witches, #1) by Terry Pratchett

Wyrd Sisters (Discworld #6; Witches, #2) by Terry Pratchett (💖)

The Palliative Society by Byung-Chul Han

Death with Interruptions by José Saramago (💖)

Suspiria de Profundis by Thomas de Quincey

The Horror Film essays organized by Stephen Prince (💖)

Carrie by Stephen King (💖)

A Man Lay Dead by Ngaio Marsh

The White Album by Joan Didion (💖)

No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai

The Psychology of C. G. Jung by Jolande Jacobi

Castle in the Air by Diana Wynne Jones

O que é Arte by Jorge Coli

The Battle of Versailles by Robin Ghivan

Intercourse by Andrea Dworkin (💖)

The Devil Crept In by Ania Ahlborn

Undine by Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué

Black Skin, White Masks by Frantz Fanon

On Dreams & Death by Marie-Louise von Franz

Bunny Lake is Missing by Evelyn Piper

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

The Honjin Murders by Seishi Yokomizo (💖)

[bellwood-qudditch]

Sirius Black I

Faceclaim: Ivan Morris Howe

“The eldest son of Cygnus Black I and Ella Max. The brother of Phineas Nigellus, Elladora and Iola. He unfortunately passed away young”

August 8th, 1845–December 24th, 1853

[simpingforthisonedeer]

𝐎𝐂: 𝐀𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐓𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

— “All time ever does is pass and all I ever do is remember.”

— “May Death be proud to take us! Let us live, since we must die! Die with memories, not dreams!”

— Aika is currently raging in a snowy valley in Demons Run, not knowing that two children will save her life.

— In Planting Camellias, Aika is caught off guard by this Time Mage she has been searching for decades.

Name: Aika (???) Tolliver

Alias(es): Ains, Sarkany, The Blade(she hates this one), The Forgotten, The Widow

Age(s): 34-35(in Planting Camellias), 36-37(in Demons Run)

Gender/Pronouns: Gender Fluid, she/her, he/him

Species: Half-Human, Half-Devil

Affinity: Time Magic, Necromancy

Birthday: October 15th

Zodiac: Libra

Height: 175 cm(woman), 190 cm(man)

Blood Type: AB

Family: Alicia † (Mother), Faven † (Father), Sordello † (Father), Thorfinn † (Brother), Evan/Ivan (Son), Holly (Daughter), Holly † (Ex-Wife), Arthur (Ex-Husband), Julius (Lover), Raymond (Uncle), Lydia (Aunt), Styrmir (Future Son), Anastasia (Future Daughter)

Other Relations: Morris (Ex-Lover), More To Be Revealed

— 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

Demons Run (NSFW)

Demons Run (SFW)

Planting Camellias

— 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Pale-skinned woman with long, black, wavy hair with undertones of violet. Her eyes are lavender and has a pert nose and pink lips. She often wears black leather gloves that limit her mana, a white blouse and black, high waisted pants, both with gold buttons. Some days she wears a crimson half-cloak with a steel pauldron. From the shoulder plate, hangs an upside down cross connected by a gold thread in reference to the martyrdom of Peter the Apostle. At her waist, hangs a long sword, once wielded by her father, Sordello.

In her teens, she had a strong desire to be a man so she would be respected more. A nearly unachievable desire turned to despair and she manifested transformation magic which allowed her to turn into a male version of herself. She called herself “Ains” in this form and used male pronouns. Ains was 6 feet 3 inches and had short curly hair and wide shoulders. Aika’s strength was much more visible in the form of muscles when she was Ains.

reference 1 reference 2 reference 3

— 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

She is kind and reserved with those who she respects and is close with, but cold and standoffish with most other people. She will put up masks for the sake of politeness but it’s rarely ever genuine. She lies very easily to get what she wants but she finds it difficult to lie to those she likes. In battle, she is often described as a maniac when faced against many. They say that as a battle drags on, she cannot hide the sadism on her face. Even when faced against an enemy stronger or smarter than her, she is relentless and persistent to the point of recklessness to overpower her opponent.

She is known for out of box thinking and her ability to use her vast knowledge in any given situation. Her greatest asset is her ability to spot potential. Due to this, she is often motherly to those she takes under her wing. This side of her helped her build a successful company/guild that she still runs to this day.

Her love is as deep as her hatred. No matter how many times love has hurt her, she never stopped even if it’s difficult to verbally express it. As of right now in Demons Run, Aika loves her two children Evan and Holly, and her lover, Julius.

— 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

Aika was found by her two Fathers, Faven and Sordello in the giant demon skull in Hage, between the legs of her dead mother. She was born slightly premature from a coffin birth. They buried the woman and took her pocket watch as a keepsake for Aika to have. They named her “Aika” which means “time” because of the watch, and as a reminder that the passage of time has both ends and beginnings. They took her home to Alicia, their lover and Aika’s mom to be, and adopted her despite Alicia’s hesitation. She conducted a blood adoption ritual that made Aika their own daughter, changing her appearance from a brunette with pink eyes to dark hair with lavender eyes, her appearance taking after each of her three parents.

They raised her preciously like their own for three years and Alicia gave birth to Aika’s brother, Thorfinn. He had dark hair like her and bright blue eyes. Aika loved her brother to death. While she was barely showing signs of magic, Finn was spewing lightning magic since the day he was born, hence the reason why he was named after the god of thunder. When Finn was three and Aika was six, they were playing in the backyard and Finn accidentally struck Aika’s back with lightning. She died but was resuscitated again by a smaller zap of electricity. She has a scar on her back till this day and the only scar she hasn’t healed despite her ability to do so, as a reminder of her brother.

Throughout Aika’s childhood, everyone were confused as to what her magic was. When she was in a bad mood, plants and little animals around her died, and in a good mood, they flourished. Aika was terrified of her own magic sometimes when it killed fauna so she learned to withdraw her magic so much due an irrational fear to the point where she was slightly sick all the time because of the lack of mana coursing through her.

Instead of using magic, she focused on using her own strength and talents. Her father Sordello was a blacksmith and a swordsman. He taught her everything he knew. Her other father Faven, was an artist: a painter, musician and a writer. Her mother Alicia was the smart one. In Aika’s eyes, she seemed to know about everything. Aika wanted to be all of them and she was. They taught their children all that they needed in life and more.

Around the time when Aika was fifteen and didn’t have a grimoire yet, the whole Tolliver family was traveling through the neutral zone when a pack of bandits attacked them. Her fathers and her brother fought them but they were trapped. Alicia forced Aika to run away while they all withered away to dust by an Ash Magic User.

Aika despaired and manifested her grimoire and something else as she blacked out. When she woke up, everyone were seemingly gone. Aika assumed she somehow killed them. She gathered her family’s ashes and marched to Spade Kingdom. She couldn’t believe how life can be taken so easily, she was still in shock, so she went to the Spade Kingdom War College and proved her worth so she could study Necromancy and bring her family back.

She learned quickly that she couldn’t but she was too far into forbidden magic to stop so she didn’t. She paid her way through college by fighting in underground fighting rings using her freakish strength and studied medicine and forbidden magic. She also dated Morris, a blind boy from the Diamond Kingdom. In her final year of college, she begins to show interest in divinity so as her final project, she conducts a ritual called “Imago Dei.” Directly translated, it means “The Image of God.” In the ritual, Morris and Aika bear the Image of God. They find that God doesn’t appear in one vision, rather it’s a concept, a feeling, a reflection of oneself and everyone all at once.

They of course go insane after everything was said and done but they do recover mentally. Physically, Aika stayed blind for a year. During this time, she found out that Morris was just using her and leaves him. She went to the Heart Kingdom to study Mana Zone under the High Priestess of Undine because of her blindness. She later comes to discover that she has a weak form of clairvoyance as a residue from the ritual she performed.

After Aika recovers her sight, she leaves the Four Suits Continent Aika left the Spade kingdom after she graduated from Spade Nation War College at 21 years old and worked as a necromancer at a funeral home in a country past the Spade Kingdom! She used to help the dead move on peacefully, exorcise any poltergeists, conduct autopsies, keep company for any ghosts at the adjacent cemetery and comfort the living. It’s a job that comes with a lot of responsibilities and she certainly didn’t get paid enough for it.

She then moved on to another country to work as an independent mercenary then worked as a mercenary knight for the royal family of that country. Aika then met and fell in love with the crown princess but their love was forbidden because of the difference in status and obviously, for being homos. But they eloped because it wasn’t forbidden by law and they had a happy few months before the kingdom fell and she couldn’t protect the princess. She died. The princess’s name was Holly.

After the death of the princess, at 24 years old, Aika began to lust for power. She spent 3 years in peace, forgetting what suffering and helplessness was truly like. She couldn’t save her family because she couldn’t figure out what her magic was. And she couldn’t save the love of her life because she was complacent. Even if she was strong, someone will be stronger than her. So she raced for the peak, to be the strongest of the strong. And she also wanted to find someone who had Time Magic just like her.

She found Evan after the fall of the kingdom. Aika wasn’t sure of his species, but he had devil horns and showed signs of being experimented on so she used her own blood to stabilize his condition and took him under her wing as her adopted son. Evan Tolliver wasn’t only a protégé, but also the witness and the biographer of Aika’s life. He saw both her brutality and compassion. Her losses and victories. Life and Death. The Beginning and End of Worlds. He is definitely the person who knows and understands her the most and is content to stay in her shadow.

Because of Aika’s use and overuse of forbidden magic, she has curse where her mere presence causes people’s emotions to turn very negative, almost like insanity. Another curse of hers is that she cannot sleep. She has given up part of her humanity for better control and power of forbidden magic so while she can sleep, she will be stuck in a nightmare world for 8 hours so she simply doesn’t sleep. The only people that can be around her for long periods of time are other dark magic users, 100% non-humans and people who have affinity with her magic.

It’s implied so far in Demons Run but for the next 10 or so years of her life, she fought war after war for whomever that will take her. Revolutions and invasions. Reconnaissance and strategy. Amidst all the wars, she also grew a greater understanding of magic. She wrote a few books on her observations and discoveries.

Because people coveted Aika’s Time Magic, she made a deal with a Faerie named Arthur. In exchange for her first born, Aika’s magic would be erased from the world’s memory. Aika soon gave birth to Holly, a child between herself and Arthur while they were briefly married for contractural purposes, and the deal was sealed. Aika gets to see Holly few times a week but mostly on weekends.

Aika was infamous for her terrifying recklessness. She would continue fighting even after she had been brutalized. She fought with both her arms chopped off. She even fought after being decapitated. The enemy was too shocked at her for moving even after her head flew off so they were killed instantly at her hand. The reason why she is alive after all these fatal incidents is because her stats raise by 500% when she is near death. The perfect buff for a necromantic warrior.

While out there, she made a guild out of all the people who followed her. It was a company that dipped its toes in every industry and when she was settling into business rather than war, Aika slowly started coming back to Clover Kingdom.

There she met the Wizard King and he often commissioned her to help and advise him. Year or two later, they found that the Wizard King’s younger brother was Faven, Aika’s father. There, she had also came to find out that Julius’s magic was Time Magic. They were keeping it under wraps for tactical advantage but the Wizard King revealed it to her. From there, Julius and Aika’s story in Demons Run begins.

[maiji]

[image set: 1) Digital ink brush-and-watercolour-style illustration of the Buddhist monk Byakken from Nubatama wa Oujou Shinai in ceremonial robes. His lifted head, hooded eyes and slightly open-mouthed expression give the impression that he is in the midst of giving a talk. 2) Same illustration, but with only the lineart. 3) Byakken with a variety of facial expressions, looking serene, shocked, stressed out, annoyed, etc.]

説経の講師は顔よき。講師の顔をつとまもらへたるこそ、その説くことの尊さも覚ゆれ。 - Sei Shonagon, 枕草子 (Makura no Soushi / The Pillow Book)

“A priest who gives a sermon should be handsome. After all, you're most aware of the profundity of his teaching if you're gazing at his face as he speaks.” [translation by Meredith McKinney (2006)]

"A preacher ought to be good-looking. For, if we are properly to understand his worthy sentiments, we must keep our eyes on him while he speaks [...]” [translation by Ivan Morris (1967)]

More commentary below the cut!

I chuckled at this quote from The Pillow Book (and the entire story built around it) in Nubatama wa Oujou Shinai. (If you’re unfamiliar with The Pillow Book, it very much is like reading the blog of a thoughtful, witty court lady from the Heian era! Sei Shonagon can be quite tongue-in-cheek, even sarcastic, and in a lot of ways it��s amazing to see how little humanity has changed over a thousand years.) I also thoroughly enjoyed drawing Byakken-sama in ceremonial robes!

On the topic of faces, one of the many reasons I love Byakken is because of his extremely relatable facial expressions. Kuze Banko gives him a lot of these perfectly serene expressions, but also has no problems pulling him in extremely over the top directions too - usually from shock or stress, he seems to get into those kinds of situations very easily lol. I feel his emotions one hundred and ten percent! Because of the well-done range and writing, it really gives you the impression that even his serene expressions have something more behind them (like exasperation, resignation…).

For example, the (very minor early story spoilers!) context for “That was a BIG FAT LIE” (smiling outside, dying inside) is that Nubatama happily tells all the sobbing wailing people in her household that she decided to become a nun because she was so profoundly moved by Byakken-sama’s preaching and decided to leave the material world behind. Which as we know is a complete fabrication especially since Byakken spent most of his time with her arguing with her about why she shouldn’t become a nun. But everyone who hears the story is like hmm yeah!! That makes total sense!!!! And thus The Amazing Tale of How Princess Nubatama Was Inspired To Become A Nun gets around. The panel that cuts to Byakken standing in front of a bunch of people talking about this, with his beatific Mona Lisa smile that somehow manages to be really flat at the same time, captioned with a giant USO (“lie”) kanji, is pitch-perfect. The entire setup and background gives him this impression of “Ah, yes… that familiar feeling… of THE DESIRE TO COMMIT MURDER”. Every time I look at it, I laugh.

It was a good challenge attempting all the different faces while still trying maintain a sense of consistency about the character, especially thinking about how I would render him differently relative to all the other Buddhist monk characters I also draw. I tried to manage that through his eyes - his very expressive eyebrows, heavy lids, and the little lashes at the corners of his eyes and his lower lids, and some of the dips/head shape near his temples. It’s also interesting to click between the colour and the ink/line-only versions and see how the effect of an image can change subtly, yet noticeably once you bring in shading and colour.

[fearsmagazine]

ON THE EDGE | Official Trailer, Poster, & Images

Jen & Sylvia Soska’s latest film ON THE EDGE makes Australian Premiere at MonsterFest.

Family man Peter (Aramis Sartorio) gets more than he paid for when he books a 36-hour session with the sadistic Mistress Satana (Jen Soska) who seems more intent on making him suffer for his sins. Is it blackmail? Is it torture? Or is it the Devil come for his soul? Will Peter’s faith save him from his own personal Hell or is he already damned? A brilliant depiction of how Kink Culture can heal past trauma and be a source for shocking redemption.

On the Edge stars Jen Soska and Sylvia Soska, who also share writing, directing and producing duties. The film also stars Aramis Sartorio, Ola Dada, Andrea Jin, Brianna and Alanna Finn-Morris, Ivan Decker, Mackenzie Gray, Sophie Buddle. The Soskas produced alongside Glenn Burchnall of Cathasaigh Productions, Luna Wolf of Disturbia Films, and Kevvy of GothMamba Productions.

On the Edge is set to make its Australian premiere at MonsterFest, welcoming the Soska Sisters back following the 2019 screening of Rabid, their remake of David Cronenberg's 1977 thriller.

On the Edge will screen November 26th at Cinema Nova in Melbourne and on December 9th at venues in Brisbane, Sydney, Perth and Adelaide. Festival passes and screening tickets are now available.

[msclaritea]

What We Know About Netflix's Eric Starring Benedict Cumberbatch

"Benedict Cumberbatch is a man of many roles: he has played the world's greatest fictional detective, a superhero, a fire-breathing dragon ... and now he's set to play a puppeteer. 

The actor will headline Netflix's next, a thriller series penned by "The Iron Lady" and "Suffragette" writer Abi Morgan, from "Chernobyl" producer "Sister" and a stellar cast has been roped in. The six-part limited series follows Cumberbatch as Vincent Anderson, a famous puppeteer who struggles to come to terms with his son having gone missing.

What we know about the story of Eric

"Eric" is set in 1980s-era New York and follows the "desperate search of a father when his nine-year-old son disappears one morning on the way to school." Cumberbatch plays Vincent, one of Manhattan's most popular puppeteers, with a children's television show of his own. His character struggles to cope with the loss of his son Edgar, and in an attempt to bring him back home, he clings to his son's drawings of a blue monster puppet that he believed lived under his bed. 

Terrorized by the guilt surrounding his son's disappearance, Vincent engages in progressively volatile behavior, and his destructive attitude isolates him from his family and colleagues. He convinces himself that if he can bring Eric the puppet on television, his young son might return home. The synopsis further describes Eric as "a delusion of necessity, who becomes Vincent's only ally in the pursuit to bring his son home."

The series already feels eerie and one-of-a-kind — just the kind of project we'd expect Cumberbatch to get his hands on. Writer Abi Morgan described the show as "a dark and crazy journey into the heart of 1980's New York, and the good, bad and ugly world of Vincent." "Eric" is expected to be a tense thriller and an "intimate portrait of a delusional father" who will go to any lengths to look for his child.

Benedict Cumberbatch headlines the show as the "charismatic yet narcissistic" Vincent Anderson, who neglects his wife Cassie and their son Edgar. Vincent is shaping up to be quite a gray character, and it'll be interesting to see how the "Sherlock" star will tackle the role. Gaby Hoffmann ("Field of Dreams," "Sleepless in Seattle") plays the actor's on-screen wife, Cassie, who struggles with her husband's "womanizing and volatile" behavior. Young actor Ivan Morris Howe plays their nine-year-old son Edgar, who is described as "artistic yet deeply withdrawn from the world."

Other cast members include McKinley Belcher III ("Mercy Street," "Ozark,") who portrays leading detective Michael Ledroit, and Dan Fogler plays Lennie Wilson, Vincent's best friend, colleague, and fellow puppeteer. George Lovette plays Clarke Peters, Phoebe Nicholls ("The Elephant Man") stars as Anne Anderson, and David Denman ("The Office") plays Matteo Cripp. Wade Allain-Marcus ("Insecure," "Snowfall") plays club owner Ali Gator. Also joining the cast are Bamar Kane, who stars as Yuusuf Egbe, Adepero Odyue, who will play Cecile Rochelle, Alexis Molnar, as Raya, and Roberta Colindrez will play Ronnie.

There's no news about the show's trailer or release date yet, but you can watch this space for more information in the future!"

They're trying to do it, again! After screwing up his Oscar campaign, working with piece of shit, Sophie Hunter and Birkin, Netflix actually thinks this sounds original. He's already played a dad who loses a child. He's already played 'Charismatic yet Narcissistic '. He's already played men with serious drug problems who suffer delusions. So how in hell is this series, Eric, IN ANY WAY ORIGINAL?! They'll do the exact same thing they did with his last projects. Praise everyone else in the film, make sure their people get all the awards, and block Benedict Cumberbatch from getting any. Netflix can go to hell. I guess I should start warning Benedict's fans to expect more bullshit from this project, that every project he's forced to do with Netflix is tainted. Vincent, huh? Just so they can cross promo Eric with Stephen Vincent Strange. They did the same thing with Olsen's Wanda character by putting a similarly dressed and behaving character on Stranger Things.

[shinycircus]

Here's a short story set in the DSS Universe! Acts as a kind of origin story for one of the reoccurring characters, too, so a good way to kick off this account. If the formatting is messed up somewhere, let me know!

TW: Gore, Graphic Descriptions of Death, Suicide Mention, Childhood Trauma

------------------------------

Interview Log: TL-36

------------------------------

The following is a transcript of a recorded interview with a subject involved in a temporal anomalous event. The identities of those involved in the interview shall not be part of the standard record and are for administrative access only.

------------------------------

Interviewer: Dr. ████████

Subject: Anna Coleman

------------------------------

Foreword: Subject is being interviewed on the origin of a temporal anomaly attached to their person where, should they expire, they would automatically return to the last instance of 8:00 AM EST they passed through, “respawning” in their own words with their knowledge and memories fully intact.

------------------------------

[Begin Log] 

████████: “Do you think you could talk about when you discovered this… ability of yours?”

[Subject adjusts in her chair, seemingly looking past Dr. ████████ and at the two-way plexiglass behind him. Subject responds after around a minute of idle movement.]

Coleman: “At the time, I was… God, I’d say twelve or so? Yeah, young enough to still make stupid decisions, but old enough to have known better. My old man had been a pretty big name in the small-time circles at the time, but he wasn’t big enough to be batting in the league he was trying to. He kept trying to make deals with big players- like Valentina and Ivan Petrovski- as if he had the manpower and influence they did. Heh… can’t imagine things went well, considering the extra air-flow through his skull after a month or two of that.”

Coleman: “But, where was I? Oh yeah, twelve-year-old me. I was playing outside with my bb-gun, taking pot-shots at blue jays and the like. Annoyed the shit out of the neighbors, because stray bbs kept hitting their house’s lining or paint or whatever, and kept coming over to my mom to complain, who always said she’d talk to me, and who never did, regarding the bb’s or anything else. Guess in that way, I was kinda lucky.”

[Subject once again adjusts in her chair, looking again over Dr. ████████’s shoulder and at the pane of plexiglass. Subject then looks up at the security camera and stares with narrowed eyes for around thirty seconds. Subject then clears throat and continues.]

Coleman: “But my luck had to run out eventually. I was standing near the end of the driveway, taking aim at a bird picking at Old Lady Morris’s garden, when I heard an engine rumble too loud for the small neighborhood we were in. I barely had time to register the swerving white van as it turned off the road and slammed into me, sending me flying through the air like a wet rag doll. A metallic taste filled my mouth like liquid tooth filling, as every sense of mine was immediately overtaken in a split second that seemed to last an eternity... I could feel my ribs and sternum splinter, like old wood on a dry summer day. I hit the ground hard, my torso bending in strange ways due to the now blatant lack of structure. Red spread out on the pavement around me, though I could barely see it as my thoughts swarmed with desperation. I tried to scream for help, but no sound came out. Now that I think about it, maybe my lungs had ruptured from the impact. Not sure though. Don’t know how I would’ve survived long enough to think at all, let alone keep breathing for around a minute.”

Coleman: “Explosive pain was pulsing through my body, but all that filled my mind was one sentence, over and over. ‘I’m going to die,’ I realized. ‘I’m really going to die.’ But I couldn’t. My family was never religious, and in my young, childish head, there was no comfort in the void I was told was coming. I struggled, I wiggled on the pavement- I did everything I could to hold off that darkness at the edge of my vision, but no matter what I did, it continued to advance threateningly. It was about that time when a kind of feeling began welling up in me. It wasn’t… Well, it wasn’t a new feeling per se, but it was something intense. Something primal.”

Coleman: “I kept screaming at myself to get up, get up, get UP. Unconsciousness kept trying to pull me down but I forced my arms to move, pulling myself forward on the rough concrete. My nails splintered and pulled from my fingers as I dragged myself down the street towards my door, but the pain, the fear, the resolve, and the determination all kept me going and, more importantly, conscious. My thoughts, my emotions, and my heartbeat were all ringing in my ears up to the end, as I was pushing myself off the ground to reach for my house’s door handle. My splintered rib cage cried in agony, but I stretched further and further, refusing to lay back down and accept my death. That pain kept building, but my tenacity forced me onward, pushing and pushing until finally, I guess unbending my chest finally allowed some air into my lungs. And the first thing I did with it? I screamed. I screamed my hemorrhaged little heart out. It tore through my blood-soaked throat with enough of a ring in my ears that I’m sure it would have echoed in empty air… but I guess I’ll never know what happened after that because then I-”

Coleman: “Well, I woke up.”

████████: “Hmm. Interesting.”

Coleman: “Weird, I know. I woke up that morning, the spring sunlight filtering through my window, that morning taste of sourness in my mouth. I sat straight up, soaked in sweat and tears running down my face. Wasn’t crying though, strangely enough. I just sat there in open mouthed shock for around an hour. I could’ve sat there as long as I liked; it wasn't like Mom was coming to get me.”

Coleman: “Thought it was a dream.”

████████: “A dream?”

[Subject nods.]

Coleman: “Yep. What, was I supposed to have believed all that actually happened at twelve years old? People don’t die and come back to life. That’s what I believed at the time. So after a while, I pulled myself out of bed.”

Coleman: “My house at that age was… ah, what’s the point. It looked mostly the way I wanted it to.  I was pretty much the only one there most of the time. Mom was off who-knows-where a lot, so I cleaned up all the old coffee cups and whiskey bottles, I cooked my own breakfast, and I left tylenol and water on Mom’s nightstand for when she got home. It was a daily routine.”

Coleman: “But I noticed things were happening very similarly to things in my ‘dream’. It was little things. A bird slamming into the window. The toaster spring coming loose. That kind of thing. It was weird. Surreal. I even pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t still dreaming.”

Coleman: “But it was enough to make me cautious. As I went outside to practice my shooting, I looked towards Old Lady Morris’s garden. Sure enough, that same blue jay that was there in the dream was there. Pecking at her plants without a care in the world. That’s when it really hit me, you know? No denying it now. I had died, and for some reason, I’d come back. I slammed the door shut and stumbled back. My breathing quickened. I was panicking. In and out, in and out. I was twelve, to remind you. I don’t think you’re supposed to think about your own mortality until at least adulthood and after a few stiff drinks. God, it felt like I could feel the hit-and-run all over again. My side ached, my chest hurt with each breath, and I was desperately looking for an escape from a threat that wasn’t there yet. I ran over to the window and opened the blinds. Pulling into the driveway was that same white van, but of course, this time I got a good look at it. It was a beat up old thing, rusty in parts, with the hood all jagged and bent.”

Coleman: “God, I almost look back on it fondly. My first Groundhog Day.”

████████: “A Groundhog Day?”

Coleman: “What? It’s that movie with Bill Murray where he repeats the same day over and over, so I thought the name fit-”

████████: “I’m aware of the movie. I’m just interested in how jovial you seem to be about this.”

[Subject leans back in their chair, crossing their arms.]

Coleman: “Look, you asked for the story. I’ll tell it how I want, got it?”

Coleman: “Anyway, a guy hopped out of the van. Tall fella, paper bag over his head. Knew he was with Ivan after that. I’ve seen that gang’s uniform before. Bruisers used to come by when I was… six? Seven? Something like that. He kicked down the door, shotgun in hand. The door flung around and hit me in the head, the edge of the doorknob slamming into my skull. I yelped in pain, but just half a second later, I’d be feeling a whole lot worse.”

Coleman: “I heard the rough, crunchy bang of exploding gunpowder, like a crackling firework on the Fourth of July, and for a fraction of a second, my ears burned from the sound. But then I felt the first pellet from the man’s shotgun go through my head. A rending pain tore through my skull, only intensified as another went through. And another. And another. And another. I felt more and more painful piercings through my skull and brain as the buckshot rained down until it felt like a hail of hell exposing my brain to the bitter cold of the outside air, each slight draft in that microsecond feeling like raking red-hot blades across the now non-existent back of my head and neck.”

Coleman: “Then I woke up again. Sat straight up in my bed, sunlight through my window, yada yada yada. I jumped out of bed, ran to the kitchen, and waited. Sure enough, a bird smacked into the window. All the proof I needed, that. I ran outside, looked down the street. There was the van, rolling up the road. I started to prepare.”

[Subject sighs and rests an arm over the back of the chair, once again glancing at the security camera.]

Coleman: “And here’s the repetitive part of the story: all the different attempts I made to try and survive. You’d get really damn bored if I went over each attempt individually, so I’ll go broad strokes here. Tried disarming him with a broom handle. Dead. Tried laying a trap in the road. Dead. Tried attacking him with the neighbor’s dog. Dead. Tried to tackle him right as he came in. Dead. Tried to attack him, over and over, every way I could find. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Each time hurt in a new, horrible way. I like to call it the “cost of immortality”. You may be able to come back from death, but that moment you die is gonna really fuckin’  hurt. It’s like time itself slows down at that exact moment, letting you feel each tiny sensation in that microsecond.”

[Subject straightens her posture and idly rubs her arm, staring absently at an insignificant point on the wall.]

Coleman: “Gah… if I really think about it, I can still feel each one. I never forget a death and trust me, that’s a feat considering how many times I’ve died. Rammed, stabbed, shot, beaten, I couldn’t get away. Tried running, got run over. Tried to hide, got pulled out and shot.  It felt like there was no end in sight, that it was endless.”

Coleman: ‘Maybe there isn’t an escape,’ I thought. ‘Is this Hell? Did I already die?’”

Coleman: “Yep, grappled with that for a while- Or, however you would define ‘a while’ in a situation like this. But I had to keep trying. I. Would. Survive.”

[Subject leans back once again, making eye contact with Dr. ████████ and maintaining it for the rest of the interview.] 

Coleman: “My last attempt started like any other, I jumped out of bed immediately and propped a chair against the door. I learned to do that in attempt twenty-three, and every attempt afterwards, I did it again. It bought me valuable time- two minutes and thirty-eight seconds, to be exact. I sat there for a second, that despair of possibly never escaping still… I don’t know, there in my mind, you know? But when I saw the guy's car pulling up, that’s when it hit me. I thought back to when I got hit. By the van.”

████████: [Interviewer stays silent.]

Coleman: “…Oh come on, that was good.”

████████: “Excuse me for not seeing the humor.”

Coleman: “Ah, screw you then. Point being, I thought back to how powerful it felt when I got hit and it gave me an idea. I snuck out through the back door, I worked my way around the house while the guy tried jimmying the door, struggling with the chair I’d propped up. I looked behind him. He’d left the car running.”

Coleman: ‘Oh fuck,’ I thought. ‘Oh shit, this could be it.’”

Coleman: I snuck over quietly, walking at a snail’s pace. I swear, I felt like breathing was a death sentence. Now that I wasn’t being chased, attacked, or killed, I had an opportunity to truly get a look at this guy. He was putting all his weight on one leg in a way that was both pathetic and intimidating. Maybe it was just because of how often he’d killed me, but I couldn’t help but shiver being so close to him. The man who had been the cause of my hell for the last- well, it felt like forever at the time- was standing right next to me, so close I could almost swear I felt his body heat. But I got over it and proceeded to the van, opening the car door as slowly as possible. As the door clicked and popped open, my heart dropped as I thought it was enough of a sound for the man to turn around. But then, as the smell of alcohol wafted from the vehicle’s interior, I understood why his senses were both dulled and heightened. Why his balance was off so much, and yet he was still so murderously inclined. I thanked whatever horrible, fucked up god that was listening, and hopped in, got down on the floorboard and, bracing myself, punched the gas. Literally.”

Coleman: “The wheels under the car instantly peeled out on the blacktop, the loud screech finally being enough to make the man turn around, but far too late to jump out of the way. The car drove forward at an angle, slamming into him and pushing him back until he hit the garage door. The jagged metal of the hood on the beat-up van drove into him, blood already spreading over the front of it, but the vehicle kept going. It flattened the metal spike the man got stabbed by against the metal of the wall behind him, and pressed against him even harder. Because of the angle we went at, the vehicle slipped sideways as it drove against the metal. It smeared him against the garage, like a badly sealed paint varnish as sputtering gasps and screams echoed around me.”

Coleman: “I jumped out of the van, ripping the key from the ignition so it wouldn’t run me over too. I walked over and saw that, to my surprise, he was still alive. He reached for me, hand outstretched. He was begging. Ha! Can you believe that? He was begging me for help! Could hardly believe it then either.”

████████: “And how did that make you feel?”

Coleman: “Hmm… Indifferent, I guess? The reality of it didn’t sink in until a few hours later. When it did, though? Oh man, it was a rush! I had won. I was ALIVE. I felt unkillable- and to be fair, I was. Er, still am- whatever, you get the picture.”

████████: “Hmm, that would indicate far more loops than what our instruments have-”

Coleman: “How about you let me tell the story, alright? No more interruptions. Where was I- …right.”

Coleman: “I looked him in the eye, and I saw something. Those eyes that I’d seen so often, those eyes I’d seen staring dispassionately as I was strangled, stabbed, and shot, were looking at me now in fear. It was like there was new life injected into him, but I don’t think I appreciated it then like I do now. I looked back down to the ground. His shotgun was there. Loaded and pumped.”

Coleman: “So I helped him. Put him out of his misery, nice and quick. I’ll be honest, I- I didn’t really know what to do at the time, heh. My clothes, sneakers, shirt, pants, and face were all covered in blood and viscera. My hands were still shaking from the recoil. So I guess I just kinda… went back to normal. Walked back inside and sat there. For the first time in eight-thousand-five-hundred-thirty-eight loops, it was 8:12. I went back to the kitchen, made myself breakfast, and put the tylenol and water on my mom’s nightstand. Some loops never change, I guess.”

████████: “I see. Were there any repercussions afterwards?” 

[Subject nods.]

Coleman: “Mom came back later, freaked the fuck out for obvious reasons, then asked me how I was still alive. I had already changed clothes, you see. Plus, I didn’t exactly know how to explain what had happened. So I just shrugged and said I didn’t know. That I got lucky.”

Coleman: “Then life continued without a feather ruffled. No therapy or counseling- hell, after the initial check-in, Mom didn’t even bring it up again outside of “We don’t speak to the cops about this.” I’ve had plenty of Groundhog Days since then. You run into them a lot in my kind of business. Which brings us back to you lot.”

████████: “Indeed it does.”

Coleman: “What happens now? I know there’s probably a team of  You gonna lock me up like a lab rat with the other freaks? Cause I could just blow my brains out and avoid this whole interview if that’s your plan.”

████████: “Actually, quite the opposite. I have an offer for you, Miss Coleman, and I believe it’s one you’ll quite like.”

Coleman: “An offer? …Okay, I’m listening.”

[End Log]

------------------------------

Closing Thoughts

Origin of anomaly is still unknown, and at time of filing, is of low priority.

Recruitment initiative was successful. Monitoring of the temporal anomaly has become more efficient by 76% with the subject’s cooperation and induction into the ███████████.

Subject currently owns and runs a bar in downtown Providence and is available for consultancy and fieldwork at the Director’s discretion. Compensation must be made on contact, with an unmarked envelope of ███████.

[pazodetrasalba]

Catherine Morland

Dear Caroline:

As of today, I have only read two Jane Austen novels: Emma (probably around 2004, in a university course) and Pride and Prejudice (a couple of weeks ago). I intend to go through the whole lot, both because they are standard English classics and because I know you've read and liked them, but I am not in a particular hurry about it.

I have just checked a little bit about Catherine Morland, who seems to be the protagonist of Northanger Abbey. I didn't read much -spoilers! -, but I did read enough to see that she belongs to the group I like to call 'Quixotic characters': those that are led, by a passion for literature, to see reality from a broken glass and make very mistaken assumptions about the world.

I suspect behind these narratives is a very conservative suspicion about books in general and reading in particular as a source of knowledge and information at odds with oral tradition and social beliefs. Reading in its modern form -as a private and silent act, whereas in the past it was done aloud and for a group- is very individualistic, and shows a capacity for breeding pedantry, vainglory and arrogance among its practitioners. It is also an easy enough character type to make fun of.

One of my favorites is a person I suspect it unlikely that you have heard of: Takasue's daughter, also known as lady Sarashina. She was a real-life courtier in Heian Japan who has left us a lovely diary (and you have two English translations from which to choose from: Ivan Morris's and Sonja Arntzen's). In it she tells us about her youth, and how she lost her wits and becoming enamoured with the romantic fiction of her day, mostly Murasaki Shikibu's Tale of Genji, which depicts an idealized world of rich and refined, dancing and poetry-making courtiers who flirt and seduce the ladies and live in an atmosphere of passionate romance. In wikipedia's apt summary, 'When her life does not turn out as well as she had hoped, she blames her addiction to tales, which made her live in a fantasy world and neglect her spiritual growth'.

I don't know if one could describe these tendencies as 'autistic', but they definitely fit with a certain prototype of dreamy, bookish, socially awkward and smart woman that I adore above all the other creatures of this earth. If heaven were to exist, it would have to include a disproportionate amount of these ladies to be worthy of the name.

Quote:

I lived forever in a dream world. Though I made occasional pilgrimages to temples, I could never bring myself to pray sincerely for what most people want.

Lady Sarashina

[newssy]

Benedict Cumberbatch-Starrer Limited Web Series All Set To Go On Floors?

Benedict Cumberbatch-starrer limited series ‘Eric’ rounds off its cast ( Photo Credit – Flickr ) The limited web series ‘Eric’, which stars Benedict Cumberbatch, has filled out its main cast. Cumberbatch will now be joined by Gaby Hoffmann, McKinley Belcher III, Dan Fogler, Clarke Peters, Ivan Morris Howe, Phoebe Nicholls, David Denman, Bamar Kane, Adepero Odyue, Alexis Molnar, and Roberta…

[auntygrumpycow]

1001 night au

Stede is sailing between islands on business when the shop gets raided. He's taken hostage and for whatever reason ends up in the captain's cabin.

Maybe Izzy decides their most valuable hostage won't survive the brig, maybe Blackbeard is bored enough that he sends for one of the hostages to play with.

Either way, Stede is in the captain's cabin and under threat of ravishment (if only in his own head, because he really should have been laying off the pirate novels and plays before going to sea). And when he's nervous and there are no etiquette rules to be followed...Stede babbles and by happenstance what comes out is a story, about a young woman in not dissimilar circumstances trying to survive telling stories.

Blackbeard is fascinated enough to be distracted and amused when Stede refuses to tell him the ending claiming fatigue.

That's how it starts, half a new story one night, the ending and half a new story the next. Fortunately, Stede knows a lot of stories.

One day Izzy barges in, needing to discuss something with Ed right that minute but gets shushed and dragged down to sit and listen with Ed instead. He huffs and jeers at the story and Stede despairs that Blackbeard will stop liking it as well...but the next night the first mate is there again and the night after that the excuses get flimsier and flimsier until Blackbeard huffs and tells him to be on time the next night and stop interrupting.

None of the three men notice some of the crew loitering by the captain's door more often in the evenings, straining their ears to catch some of the tales. Not until Ivan and Morris get in a scuffle about whose turn it is to listen and Blackbeard flies out of his cabin demanding an explanation for the interruption.

The crew demand a chance to listen to Stede's stories properly. After all, he counts as spoils now, having been on the ship so long and it's not fair that the captain keeps this particular booty all to himself.

In the captain's cabin, Stede doesn't know that all the other hostages have long since been ransomed. Doesn't realize his father must have been notified that the ship has gone down, and must surely think his son dead, Blackbeard having neglected to send out a ransom request. All he knows is his life depends on his ability to tell stories, and that maybe, just maybe his captor isn't as scary as he first appeared.

Sharing space for such long hours, Stede sometimes gets glimpses of another man who's funny and curious and looking for something more. It's a restlessness that Stede recognizes, the same restlessness that lives in his heart too. A restlessness he can't help but reach for in the quiet hours of the morning. And sometimes, Blackbeard seems to be reaching back.

The first time Stede has to tell a story in front of the entire crew, he almost faints. He's never spoken before so many people, not when they actually cared what he had to say, anyway. But he feels the captain at his back and somehow the words flow. He gets carried away and tells story after story realizing only when he's back in the captain's cabin that he's told the story in whole, not withholding the ending for another night.