#One of a pair in waiting for godot

[nilboxes]

Outlining thoughts about a media reference in Penacony that is heavily Aventio implied.

More philosophy of Aventurine and Dr Ratio.

At the very bottom of Dreamflux Reef is a little event where you wait by a train platform, it never comes and you get an achievement afterwards called “Waiting for Godot '' which is a play about two men doing what the title says, along the way one of them consistently insists to perform self-exit. Sound familiar? 

I was curious about the title of the achievement because that seemed like a reference and upon some quick research, “Waiting for Godot” is an allegorical work demonstrating the “Theater of the Absurd” which presents absurdist themes and situations in a play.

A bit of refresher on the philosophy of absurdism– it is the belief and acceptance that the universe is inherently meaningless, but one can find ways to accept it and live with it. This is just a very simplified sentence of the idea, of course, but continuing on…

The play opens with two men, Estragon (Gogo) and Vladimir (Didi) who are waiting for Godot by a tree. Vladimir is the more philosophical, level headed of the two who is always pulling Gogo away from his bursts of worry, while Gogo seems more out of it and neurotic, freaks out, also expresses the desire to sleep or is trying to find a means to get out of waiting for Godot by hanging himself.

They basically do nothing except talk the entire play. The way they talk they are demonstrated to have a close relationship and dependent relationship with each other, able to blather endlessly in circles in order to pass the time, and speak of things like ‘our honeymoon’, how long they have been together and at one point Gogo demands Didi to embrace him, which the other obliges. 

The play continues with the arrival of someone who they mistake for Godot but isn’t. The play ends with them both being told by a boy sent by Godot himself that he will not be arriving that day. Didi asks for descriptions of Godot, as neither Gogo nor Didi have a clue what Godot looks like, but the boy doesn’t provide much, and merely assure the pair Godot will arrive tomorrow. Both Gogo and Didi say they will leave, but stay on the stage. A shorter act two basically has the same ending, with Godot sending the same boy to tell the two men the same news, but the boy denies being the same boy from yesterday and he does not remember either of the men. Didi gets angry and tells the boy to remember so they can avoid repeating this encounter. The boy exits, the two men consider suicide, but they don’t have rope to hang themselves on the tree, so they decide to leave and come back tomorrow but the actors on stage only remain. End of play. 

Some of the more standout scenes to me as I can’t help but feel Gogo asleep alludes to sleep as a rehearsal of death, and the one “left behind” experiences the weight and anxiety of being conscious while bereft of their companion as they wait.

Notable conversations they have I find interesting was how Gogo brings up hanging himself and they both argue about who should be first. Gogo insists Didi go first as Didi is heavy and if the bough breaks as Didi hangs himself, Gogo is afraid to be left alone. 

Another conversation, at one point Gogo falls asleep, Didi lets him, but soon finds the silence unbearable and wakes Gogo up. Gogo complains, and wishes to share his nightmares but Didi vehemently refuses and doesn’t want to hear it. 

The play is effectively a metaphor of the state of living in the absurd. Gogo and Didi spend all the time waiting for Godot, who is ‘meaning’ personified. Gogo and Didi find ways to pass the time (live through life) discussing, reminiscing, needing comfort from each other only to be acutely aware they are still trying to find “meaning”, despair a little and ultimately rinse and repeat to do it again. Godot will never come, the two men make it seem like a big deal, but it is a small part of their day compared to what they do, how much they enjoy each other’s company and what they come to experience while waiting for Godot, and that’s the entire point. 

A lot of the play again, is basically talking, some sense within the nonsense. As HYV references this play at the very “bottom” of the dream we can reach so far, it’s obvious this play was one of the inspirations for the Penacony story and that we as the TB were also living in our own theater of the absurd. 

I also see a bit of Aventurine and Ratio’s relationship in Gogo and Didi. Gogo who is anxious, unsettled and not keen to wait on Godot, very eager to end it all like Aventurine. Didi who is not too better off but trying his best to stay rational and philosophical and to wait. The two also act like a married couple, bicker endlessly but enjoy it and arguably are in distress whenever the other might leave. 

It’s not 1:1 but I do believe this is another supporting tidbit that Aven and Ratio really were written as a pair and meant to complement each other. 

It’s tiny but Aventurine sleeping when we first start the 2.1 quests with him proper to be woken up by Ratio couuuld be a callback to this.

Anyway another fun tidbit that the devs left at the train station, there’s two balloons situated by a bench. One is horizontal on the bench, implied to be sleeping. The other is looking at the sleeping one. That’s Gogo and Didi! 

So, that’s it for that! It’s been on my mind for over a few weeks now why they put that in there. The play was fun to read, there’s a bit about the third person who joins them that isn’t very relevant to the read here. I also was heavily reminded of Spirited Away during the little sequence to get the achievement. There’s a lot packed into this! 

Tl;dr the themes visited in the story of Penacony, and the character dynamics of Aven and Ratio were inspired a little by this play. They are made for each other. They are married. Aventio real. 

I wrote more on the philosophy of Aventurine and Dr Ratio here in another post.

The play is available to read online. The wikipedia entry of this play helped in this research So did this video: Why should you read "Waiting For Godot"? - Iseult Gillespie - YouTube

[lishenkaaa]

i think something we sometimes ignore when we talk about tlt's themes of love is its incredible focus on familial love, like the books' romantic and sexual themes are very clear but also it truly is a series that questions what a family is from the very beginning. gideon's lack of both a biological and chosen family (at least in her eyes) and harrow's almost decade-long attempt at maintaining the illusion of one in gtn. the fifth and the fourth, filling in the missing parts of their own families with each other. coronabeth, ianthe and even naberius' entire deal. the focus within silas and colum's dynamic of their biological compatibility as a necro/cav pair. john's desire for a daughter in harrow and then discovery of one in gideon, as well as pyrrha's desire to find out why her kid had to die only to find out 1) not her kid, 2) didn't die originally, 3) still died in the end. nona and pyrrha and pal and cam, which tazmuir herself has specifically highlighted we should question if it even counts as a family at all, but has also made sure we know they loved each other anyway. kiriona as her mother's daughter and her father's son but ultimately neither and how it kills her even as a corpse. and anastasia, the series' godot who despite making no appearance is felt in its every corner, who pyrrha painted a nursery with and who started the lineage that opened the legendary tomb.

can't wait to see how this is all explored in atn, especially when nona's family is only a "dress rehearsal" for the real horrors of love.

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter to Star in ‘Waiting for Godot’ on Broadway

They played slacker buddies in three “Bill & Ted” films, and next year they plan to reunite for Beckett’s classic tragicomedy.

By Michael Paulson

Aug. 1, 2024

Call it Bill and Ted’s Existentialist Adventure.

Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter, the actors who incarnated a pair of slacker musicians for three “Bill & Ted” films, are planning to reunite for a Broadway revival of “Waiting for Godot.”

The production, planned for the fall of 2025, will be directed by Jamie Lloyd, one of the hottest directors of the moment, whose work is characterized by a spare aesthetic and an emphasis on psychological intensity.

Lloyd said that the project was Reeves’s idea, but that as soon as the actor approached him, “it was a no-brainer that this needed to be done.”

“Their instant chemistry and their shorthand and their friendship is going to be so valuable,” Lloyd said of Reeves and Winter in an interview. “This is a very deeply complex play, as we all know, but it’s also a very funny play, and they’re very witty people and their shared sense of humor in those movies and in real life is going to be very beneficial to the production.”

In “Godot,” Reeves will play Estragon and Winter will play Vladimir, who banter and bicker while waiting for a mysterious figure who never arrives. “Those characters take solace in their companionship as they stumble toward the void,” Lloyd said, adding, “that’s going to be the central thesis of the production, with Keanu and Alex’s own friendship.”

“Waiting for Godot,” by the Irish playwright Samuel Beckett, was first staged in French in 1953 and then in English in 1955. The play was first performed on Broadway in 1956, and has been revived there three times since, most recently in 2013 with Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart.

Reeves, the prolific film star of the “Matrix” and “John Wick” series, will be making his Broadway debut with “Godot.” He likes a challenge: In 1995, he played Hamlet in Winnipeg, Manitoba.

Winter, who writes and directs in addition to acting, appeared on Broadway twice in the 1970s, when he was a teenager, in musical revivals of “The King and I” and “Peter Pan.”

The two first worked together in 1989 in “Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure.” A second film, “Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey,” arrived in 1991, and a third, “Bill & Ted Face the Music,” in 2020.

Lloyd, based in London, has become a regular presence in New York. Last year he directed a revival of “A Doll’s House” starring Jessica Chastain, and this fall he will direct a revival of “Sunset Boulevard” starring Nicole Scherzinger.

The “Waiting for Godot” revival is being produced by Lloyd’s production company, as well as ATG Productions, Bad Robot Live (J.J. Abrams’s company) and Gavin Kalin Productions. ATG is a British theater company that has a long relationship with Lloyd and operates seven Broadway theaters; the production said that “Godot” would be staged in one of those ATG theaters.

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/08/01/theater/keanu-reeves-broadway-godot.html?unlocked_article_code=1._k0.sgY5.jVlfdfEVMdVl&smid=url-share

[heliza24]

No Children, etc in ep 2.6 of IWTV

This episode is all about children and women, isn’t it? And how difficult and painful having a child as a vampire is.

Misogyny is big theme in the episode: way the plot moves around Claudia and Madeline, Madeline’s almost rape, her abuse at the hands of the mob. The women are cut out of waiting for Godot; if Godot is hope, and never arrived for the pair on stage, it never arrives for Claudia and Madeline either.

It also makes Armand exposed because it lets the coven plot around him. His kind of feminized role and his trauma leaves him exposed too, torn between Louis and the coven. Armand is the wife being asked to reproduce here. The way he reacts to Louis asking him to turn Madeline is so interesting. He doesn’t even want to watch Madeline’s turning, and the only way he would have conceded to that was if Louis had stepped into the dom role (the “masculine” role, if you will indulge outdated gender roles in order for me to make thematic point) to make him. This is likely based on his own trauma of his turning and his relationship with Marius, but maybe also because he’s already torn between loyalties to the coven and Louis by then.

The way his refusal to turn someone plays in Dubai is so fascinating. In some ways Daniel reacts to Armand like some people react to women without kids. He’s just totally shocked about how it could be possible that Armand has never made a fledgling. (of course this whole interaction is complicated and given layers by any history Armand and Daniel had together, including times that Daniel may have asked to be turned. I am sure that is playing on Armand’s mind; he’s delivering everything in that scene directly to Daniel. Daniel used to know, extremely intimately, all of Armand’s hang ups about creating a fledgling. And there’s still grief and bitterness tied up in that conversation for Armand.)

The fact that the magnolia tree in the Dubai penthouse could have been propagated from a cutting taken by Armand in Paris is so interesting. I think that can symbolize a lot of things: the hope that Louis feels in their relationship, the intertwining of New Orleans and Paris, Armand’s own sentimental attachments (to Louis and the world) that he rarely lets himself vocalize. It’s even in some ways a painful reminder of Armand’s betrayal of Louis and Claudia, a monument to his false promises. There’s also the fact that he was intentionally growing the tree in Paris, giving it new life in a way he won’t give a fledgling life, and that if the tree in Dubai is related it was propagated, artificially replicated, and not grown from a seed. But I also think it’s fascinating that we find this out in the same episode that Armand is inserted into a scene that has strong Adam and Eve symbolism. In his interaction with Madeline, Armand is the unwilling serpent, trying to scare Eve out of eating the apple she’s taken from the sacred tree of knowledge. So his connection to the tree feels important! And here’s that theme of misogyny again. Even though the roles are somewhat inverted here, Eve still gets punished for her acceptance of vampirism and of Claudia.

I do love that Madeline is the first person to make Armand question- even just for a second- his certainty that he knows exactly how Claudia will end. Nothing is prewritten according to her, and of course she’s right. But it’s not enough to shake Armand out of his other biblical role this episode. He still plays Judas, and self fulfills the prophecy he created for Claudia, and all child vampires, in the process.

I think it’s so fascinating that Louis’s one fledgling is not his child, but a partner for his child. Turning Madeline is like walking Claudia down the aisle at her wedding. It simultaneously reinforces how distant he is from Claudia (they didn’t have this turning experience together) and how much he would do for her. And there’s something so painful about how deadened he is to everything afterwards. Something about seeing the true love between the women and of letting go of Claudia takes the last pieces of feeling out of him. It’s what makes it so uncomfortable for him when Madeline still senses the love he has for Armand/Lestat (I do think she was feeling both in that scene, in a complicated way).

In this episode that’s all about children and the characters’ complicated relationship to them, it feels significant that Claudia is seen, really and truly, as an adult for the first time. As much as Louis has claimed to be thinking of her as a sister, he can never really let go of her as a daughter. I think it’s really beautiful the way that Madeline sees her. Claudia’s younger body isn’t a forbidden subject between them; they discuss it in one of the earlier episodes. But Madeline sees her agency and her joy and her hard won wisdom before anything else. I’m so glad we got to see Claudia through Madeline’s eyes, as she would like to be seen, at least once before next weeks’s episode.

@bluedalahorse and I have talked a lot about the queer phenomenon that sometimes happens, when someone’s lover also becomes their mentor and maybe even parental figure, guiding them into queer culture and making up for nuclear family that may have rejected them. I think this is hard coded into the concept of makers and fledglings, and is a big part of why vampirism works so well as a metaphor for queerness, amongst other things. I think this episode did a really good job of exploring the complications of those type of relationships.

[plasticfossil]

THORNTON GREY, 2.5K TRIS & 256x TEX

Worldbuilding and cg autism under the cut

This is Thornton Grey, a character of mine I've had for around 15 years now. He's from a more or less retired worldbuilding universe of mine, waiting to be either recycled or refactored. Thornton is one of the dearest characters from that setting (and in all honesty, one of my dearest characters in general) and I tend to keep him in my current brain palette of little men to doodle in various formats.

I've been doing these early cd-3d (aka psx /ps1 etc) styled models for some of my OCs with hopes of eventually ?? learning godot. I guess. I need to get my worldbuilding out to the world so it become property of the grand creative consciousness, aka to affect people with my art the same way people affected me.

The tri count is higher than many people tend to target for this style and i'll probably improve that over time as I make various kinds of assets related to my worldbuilding, but eh who cares lol. The textures are photobashed stock images with details painted over and posterized in photoshop.

Here's some bonus 'march of progress' of my art of him over time.

Lore? Well, many of my characters start out with me being bored or annoyed by a specific trope in media, and he is no exception. He's a few things, but primarily he's my take on the 'little pinocchio robot boy/man who wishes he was a Real human'. Thornton's character addresses more so the preoccupations we as humans have to classify and categories types of people or non-people.

The universe, with the codename Redverse, is set approximately 1920s/1930s alt-earth america. He was child to a pair of grandmaster clocksmiths in the early 1800s whom could not have children of their own, and spent decades producing an analog AI composed of millions of intricate gears assembled with a small cube which composes his brain. He has a small boiler in his trunk that provides power for the various hydraulic systems within his limbs and keeps his brain's clockwork properly wound.

After caring for his elderly parents until their deaths, he took his father's trenchcoat and gun and traveled the country. (why is his gun a german luger? i don't know, i was like 17. it looks cool.)

Computers, robots, ai, etc, are not really a thing in this universe, granted the targeted vague time period. So he's generally regarded by others as an advanced automaton (he basically is.) and as a curiosity. He however has no qualms about being artificial in nature, as he sees it, he has all the makings of the average man -- has parents, has to eat (hard coal for his boiler), and can love. To view him as nonhuman baffles him, and his matter of fact attitude about the issue tends to win over many people he gets to know. Regarded mostly with respect for his kind and empathetic nature within the communities he spends any amount of time in, he's eventually pulled into the underworld of armed resistance forming against the increasing power of a fascist authoritarian regime that has quickly possessed control of the tumultuous american politics.

A tl;dr of this universe is "but what if AMERICA was the nazis". Very clever 17yo me. I'm sure you had a shock of your life when you grew up and learned about america's rancid role in world politics. Thus the retirement and possible refactoring -- I think it can be a compelling alt history universe if I actually learn more about how do to it properly, if i ever revive it. I'm not the first person to do it but maybe I can offer something interesting if at least for the setting of a noir style vibe game.

Anyway, Thornton becomes very involved. So involved, in fact, he becomes essentially the poster child of the resistance movement. And is targeted for it.

Widely hailed as a martyr for his subsequent demise, the resistance movement gets his hands on his thankfully intact head and revive him the best they can. He is unfortunately damaged, and upon revival, starts channeling visions from beyond.

And that is about as far as I got with his story. Perhaps you will see more of him in the future.

[dxxtruction]

Pairing sam + armand next to each other at the trial has gotta be one of those choices man. Sam - literal riff on Samuel Beckett, writer of Waiting for Godot. Godot, who some say is this stand in for the absence of god, and hope, that never comes.

Godot who might honestly be Armand - this all powerful being - because he never does come to provide hope and salvation that he very well could.

There is also the read of WFG that suggests the characters are waiting for death - Armand places himself into the role which is an absence of a role casting Sam to be the stand in for the role which is the role of death. Precluding him from having any real part in the deaths. 'He could not have prevented it' because if he did - in this staged lack of performance - he'd be sending death to them and himself.

[beautifulgiants]

For Michael Shannon, Waiting for Godot Is the Ultimate Opportunity

By Jake Nevins

Photographed by Travis Emery Hackett

November 21, 2023

The actor Michael Shannon, photographed by Travis Emery Hackett

Earlier this year, when I interviewed the actor Paul Sparks, who was then playing Henry in The Grey House, he revealed to me, a bit sooner than his publicists would have liked, that his next project was a production of Waiting for Godot at the Theater for a New Audience. The only actor, Sparks said, with whom he could imagine tackling the dense, despairing, and singularly precise words of Samuel Beckett was his good friend Michael Shannon. So, last week, nearly a decade after Sparks and Shannon starred in the theater’s 2014 staging of Eugène Ionesco’s The Killer, they began their run as Vladimir and Estragon, respectively, appearing here as a pair of wretched jesters in bowler hats. Director Arin Arbus has conceived of Beckett’s “country road” as a jet-black runway, making especially pronounced the characters’ experience of life as a punishing, empty void (“Let’s hang ourselves immediately,” Estragon suggests). But the actors, demonstrating an easy physical chemistry, fill it admirably, as Shannon synchronizes his brooding Gogo with Sparks’s Chaplinesque interpretation of Didi.

“It’s a monumental undertaking,” Shannon said the day after their opening show from a backroom of the theater. “Estragon is a state of mind that exists in all of us,” he continued, “or can exist in us if we’re overcome by it.” Shannon seemed, if not overcome by the play, at least deeply occupied by its notions of humanity. And while Beckett’s text commands a great deal of discipline and fidelity, he and Sparks were still plumbing its depths, finding new questions to ponder and play with. “The play,” he explained, “is an opportunity to go somewhere that doesn’t exist unless we’re doing it.”

———

MICHAEL SHANNON: Hi.

JAKE NEVINS: How’s it going?

SHANNON: Oh, you know.

NEVINS: I had the pleasure of seeing the show last night. Congratulations on such a fresh production of something that’s hard to make fresh.

SHANNON: Oh, yeah? Have you seen it before?

NEVINS: Only a high school production, and not with actors as formidable as you and Paul.

SHANNON: Thanks.

NEVINS: I’m curious what your prior encounters were with Waiting for Godot and Beckett’s work in general.

SHANNON: Well, I first saw Waiting for Godot when I was a kid. I think I was 11 or 12 and I saw it in a production that was outdoors, outside of a school actually, where the playground was, and it made a huge impression on me. I think it is probably one of the things that’s responsible for me getting into the theater in the first place. And I’ve seen Happy Days with Fiona Shaw at BAM [The Brooklyn Academy of Music], which I really loved. And I saw a production of Endgame at Steppenwolf, which I really loved. I’ve done a lot of Ionesco over the years and he’s kind of my favorite playwright, but I had never actually done a Beckett play myself. The way it came to be was kind of random, really. I was just sitting and talking with Jeffrey Horowitz, who runs the theater, and we were brainstorming about possible productions to put together and it just popped into my head, the idea of doing it with Paul, specifically.

NEVINS: I imagine the language, specifically all that philosophical slapstick, might be quite daunting.

SHANNON: Well, it’s a monumental undertaking. It’s not something that you can just follow simple instructions for. But, like most great plays, it really draws you back to your own life and your own situation. It’s very universal, I think. I think if you are willing to look at it and willing to be patient with it, it can reveal a lot to you about how you navigate your own life and navigate the world. And, frankly, I’ve just felt a lot of kinship with Estragon in terms of some of my own trials and tribulations of late. So it’s almost like you’re not really creating a person that’s separate from you. Estragon is a state of mind that exists in all of us, or can exist in us if we’re overcome by it. It’s different from other plays in that regard.

NEVINS: I appreciate that distinction and the way you both approached the characters. Paul, of course, plays Vladimir with a sort of playfulness, highly gestural and expressive. What’s it like to play opposite Vladimir as Paul has conceived of him?

SHANNON: Well, Paul is always giving so much of himself. He’s such a generous performer and he’s so playful and creative and intelligent in his work and it’s thrilling to fill the space that he creates. A lot of times I refer to it as a negative, like I’m the space around the light that he’s inhabiting and creating, like I’m the darkness. We both feel like there’s still so much to learn as we do the show. We don’t feel like we’ve figured it out or that we’re done and we can just do what we made up in rehearsal. We don’t want to just repeat something night after night. Now, it’s also a very deceptively precise show, so there is some discipline involved in terms of the rhythm of it. The music of it is very precise, but within those parameters, I feel like we both are still searching pretty fervently.

Vladimir and Estragon is that they entertain each other. That’s the substance of their friendship, that they’re able to keep each other occupied. And I think Estragon thinks that Vladimir is funny and that is something he desperately needs in order for him to keep on keeping on, as they say.

NEVINS: That’s interesting, because humor in the play serves that very same function for the audience, somewhat alleviating their sense of entrapment. Their kinship with one another makes you want to stick with something that might otherwise feel kind of punishing.

SHANNON: We really don’t intend to bum anybody out. I guess I’ve heard people talk about productions of this play that were, I don’t know, a little less buoyant than ours, I suppose. I think I even read a review that said they get the humor part, but they didn’t get the dark stuff right, or something.

NEVINS: A review of this production?

SHANNON: Of this production, yeah. I don’t know how to make dark stuff dark. It’s already dark.

NEVINS: Right.

SHANNON: The play is an opportunity. It’s an opportunity to go somewhere that doesn’t exist unless we’re doing it. And we want to welcome people into it. We don’t want to alienate people. We want people to hear it. We want people to hear the play because there’s nothing that’s in the room that’s going on that is as important as the actual play. The play is the star, and we’re just trying to deliver it in a way where you can hear it and feel it. We don’t want to put up walls, or make it seem inaccessible. The way it’s directed and designed is all about trying to make it feel intimate and trying to make it feel like you’re involved as an audience member. It’s not a proscenium. You’re not all sitting in the dark.

NEVINS: To your point, I quite liked the staging of it. The runway you two are on has a sprawl to it, as if that road could go on and on. But it doesn’t come at the cost of intimacy.

SHANNON: Thank you.

NEVINS: Are there other plays, canonical or otherwise, that you’re jonesing to do?

SHANNON: Not at this moment. Kind of like how I said earlier, this just kind of popped into my head. I’m pretty spontaneous about things. I don’t have a list at home of the things I want to do. Things just occur to me or present themselves to me and then I do them. But this theater is known for Shakespeare, and Jeffrey’s talked to me about doing Shakespeare, so maybe that’s on the horizon. But I wouldn’t even know which play. I get so focused on whatever it is that I’m doing that I forget about the future.

NEVINS: It shows. Congratulations. And thanks for your time.

SHANNON: My pleasure. Thank you.

[ladykailolu]

Pride Month 2023 Day 30 🌈 🔥 🔥 🔥😩 😩 😩 💦 💦 💦 💫 💫 💫 💖 💖 💖

....

What if Godot was tied up, arms bound behind his back to a wooden pole. His boyfriend Jake/Gyro removed his tie long ago, slipping it off from his neck, stripping it and feeding it through his fingers, savoring how the cool fabric sqeueezed between his fingers slipped from his grasp.

Wow really not SFW ahoy!!!! 🚢

Gyro/Jake unbuttoned Godot's shirt, a few buttons from the top. The shirt was small and tight and looked about to burst a few buttons. His tiddies needed to breathe, after all. Gyro/Jake pressed a hand onto Godot's chest, feeling him with full open palm, fingers exploring his the bulge where his titties pressed out from his shirt, his tight abdomen, his exposed skin and the sweat decorating his dark chest hair, and his neck which was quivering, Adam's apple bobbing.

Tighter than his shirt was his pants! Godot ached with pleasure, his cock straining to be free, for his boyfriend to give him some kind of release. While Gyro would strip in front of Godot, slowly and deliberately, Jake pressed his palm squarely on the tent in Godot's pants and squeezed. Godot thrusted himself into Jake's palm before he realized what had happened. It was like his cock had a mind of its own and it was starving for pleasure and release. Jake smiled and laughed. He had no idea that Godot was so wound up. He could always indulge his helpless boyfriend and give him what he wanted...or he could drag this out until he had Godot moaning, squirming, begging for his boyfriend to finish him.

Oh god, that sounded like just the treat he needed.

Gyro/Jake removed Godot's visor. Without his vision, he was more helpless, unable to even see and expect what was coming next. No. They needed him to anticipate the next sensation, to anxiously wait for it to come. They wanted Godot at their mercy.

Gyro unzipped Godot's pants, unleashing his cock that sprang to attention, and without waiting, he claimed the head with his mouth. He devoured the shaft without hesitation, sinking lower and lower until he had most of it then he sucked and licked, sliding up and down in a perfect rythym.

Jake kissed Godot deeply, hungrily, commanding his attention, holding onto his face, fingers grabbing fistfuls of white hair. Their lips melded into each others, tongues meeting, sliding and slicking around. Every parting was marked by a wet slap, and a second later, they were on each other again. Jake caressed Godot's cheeks and chin, reveling in the prickly sensation of his stubble rubbing against his fingertips.

Jake's hands explored Godot's chest again, fingers tracing the outline of the remaining buttons. One by one, Jake unbuttoned his shirt and spread it open, freeing his cramped titties and opening the rest of his shirt like a flower spreading its petals. His hands instinctly washed over Godot's chest, smearing sweat across his pecs until his fingers discovered his nipples. They were already half-hard, and when Jake touched them, they stiffened up like little protruding pebbles. Jake squeezed them between his thumbs ans index fingers, rolled them around, even pinched them and apologized with a soothing rub, pressing the nipples in little circles.

Between Gyro slicking up his cock and Jake playing with him with both his tongue and fingers, Godot was at his limit. He couldn't last much longer, and never knowing what could happen next because he can't see his boyfriends next move made him feel like he was about to explode! He couldn't even moan past a hum trapped in his throat--Jake had a firm claim on his mouth. Eventually, Jake left his mouth, leaving Godot to breathe until he felt a pair of lips--and more concerning, teeth--embrace one of his nipples. Jake sucked and licked, trying to coax out the milk that simply wasn't there and tasting salt instead. That didn't deter Jake at all. He sucked and sucked as if the milk was stubbornly refusing to come out, until Godot believed that Jake was genuinely trying to suck him dry, just as Gyro was doing to his cock and balls. Sucking and licking, driven by thirst with no reprieve.

Jake bit down on Godot's nipple gently and gradually applied more force. He knew Godot could take it. And when he was finished biting, having enough when he heard Godot fucking whine about it, he lapped at the nipple generously, coating it over and over with his saliva to numb the pain. Then he moved onto the second nipple and treated it with the same reverance.

Sore and spent, Godot was over the edge, and his seed burst forth, down Gyro's throat. Gyro coughed and relented, and after he swallowed, he went right back to enjoying his meal. This time, he licked and sucked on Godot's balls, slipping one into his mouth and squeezing it, the other one massaged by his fingers.

At some point, Godot realized that this was torturing. That his boyfriends were systematically torturing him with the best pleasure imaginable. They were killing him in the best way possible. It must have been either the drugs or the alcohol fueling their desire.

Jake had sucked generously on both of Godot's nipples while squeezing and massaging his surrounding breast, but still no milk came. Instead, Jake got another idea. He was fit to burst himself, and so if Godot wasnt going to give up his "milk", Jake would have to share his own. By force.

He unzipped his pants and took his erection in his hand, stroking it, covering it with the slick of his precum. He wasn't half-hard. Much more than that. His erection jumped from his pants and very nearly pointed straight up at the sky. And the slick sounds of Gyro's tongue lathering Godot's cock and balls coaxed beads of precum ever further out from the tip of Jake's erection. He needed to bury himself into Godot soon or miss the train to Heaven entirely.

He positioned himself in front of Godot's face, legs spread to stand on either side of his body. It's a shame that Godot couldn't see what was mere inches away from him. If he could see the size of Jake's erection hungry for him, standing for him, Jake would bet his salary that Godot's eyes would be as big as saucers. With one hand on his hard shaft, Jake coaxed open Godot's mouth with his other hand massaging his jaw and slipping his thumb past his lips. Godot hesitated at first, not realizing what was touching him until he heard Jake whisper, "It's alright. It's alright...." in a hushed and gentle tone. It was enough to make Godot's own cock twitch in arousal and become hard again.

Jake could be rough, and while that was hot by itself, Godot found his tender side to be even more exciting. Shame that he didn't show his tender care often.

Letting a thumb slip past his lips and enter his mouth was one thing, but a cock head was another. Jake coaxed Godot to open his mouth wider, and when it was wide enough to sqeeze at least the head inside, Jake did so. He guided his erection inside of Godot's mouth and kept going even when Godot resisted out of surprise. Godot always liked it rough, after all. He's said so as much to Jake and Gyro when they fucked like rabbits. This was no exception.

It felt too good for Jake not to indulge himself and seek his own pleasure. He thrust into Godot's mouth, gentle at first and gave his boyfriend the chance to acclimate to his size, but Godot's choking sounds suggested that it WASN'T enough time and that it wasn't gentle enough. Jake was carried away right when he conceived of the idea. Grabbing the back of Godot's head, Jake thrust inside, harder and harder, going deeper and forcing himself to be taken wholly, completely. Right until his pelvis hit Godot's nose. He fucked Godot's mouth like a fleshlight, pressing his balls into his chin and loving the sight beneath him. Godot was crying, unable to adjust, and Jake kept going, feeling himself about to explode.

"Take it, baby, take all of me," Jake whispered with a sick grin. "That's good. Oh, you're so good to Daddy, boy. Oh god, you have a velvet thrussie. Daddy loves it when you take him just like that. Daddy's gonna cum. You want that? You want Daddy to feed you his cum?"

Godot couldn't speak with a whole dick shoved into his mouth repeatedly, so Jake continued on. He stopped only to thrust himself so deep that his pelvis pressed flatly into Godot's face. Jake never wanted to move from that spot. He could never forget the beautiful image of Godot taking him whole, slave to his every desire, pressed flush and helpless against him.

Jake resumed thrusting, faster, harder, getting closer to his own limit. When he came, he groaned, free and loud, and spilled his seed down Godot's throat. He kept Godot's head still, pressed flush against his pelvis until every last drop was milked out.

Huffing, Jake pulled himself out and squatted, mindful of Gyro below him. He coaxed Godot to turn his face upwards and kissed him, slow and deep, tasting himself mixed with Godot. It was a unique blend of their senses, and goddamn, it was delicious.

Godot came again and fed Gyro with his fountain of cum. Afterwards, he slumped back against the pole, utterly spent and exhausted. Jake kissed him through it, more gently this time, easing him down from his high with soft touches and words. Gyro joined them, cuddling and spent. He had rubbed his load out while pleasuring Godot endlessly and had cum when he heard Jake's words dripping with sin.

[ryutarotakedown]

Ace attorney? 001 for the ask game

[ask game link] ACE!!! ATTORNEY!!!!! okay im going with original trilogy for this because the prequels and sequels are both their own thing so [cracks knuckles]

Favorite character: oh god ive got a “no opinion” for the first damn question uhhh. im going to go with pearl because i think she is underappreciated. pearly pearls pearl fey i love you im sorry your mother sucks

Least Favorite character: mmmmm writing-wise would be terry fawles. in-game-wise would be morgan fey easily what a woman! i love hating her. one of the most chilling depictions of controlling parents ive come across ever

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): okay i can’t forget platonic ships this time. in no particular order: narumitsu, franmaya, nick & maya & pearl, iris & everyone but especially edgeworth, and. blanks. MIEGO I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT THEM

Character I find most attractive: phoenix. sorry.

Character I would marry: no one in these games is marriage material thats why i love them. okay thats not true i’d probably marry bikini

Character I would be best friends with: phoenix again. charmed by his hater swag.

A random thought: recipe for turnabout was good okay no where are you going

— i just. yes the stuff with jean sucks majorly (i went in armed with janet hsu’s trivia that he is meant to be a cis gay drag-performing guy and thus had a better experience than most people did i think) but the last turnabout was fucking spectacular. i love when phoenix straight up lies.

An unpopular opinion: crap, but that just now *was* my unpopular opinion! okay uhh. i really like how godot and iris and misty have the exact same guilt complex going on. i think if you have different opinions on the three of them you are somewhat missing the point (like yes misty did abandon her children and yes godot is mean sometimes but like. at their core. they are So Much the same and that is what destroys them and also what starts off bridge to the turnabout.)

— also i think that aa4 should have been phoenix and maya destroying the death penalty because they’ve realized that the truth is necessary yes but also punishment does not work and will never get only the imaginary perfect bad person because all aa villains are human but especially in the end with godot. and then they should deal with the ramifications of the fact that this means morgan will not be subjected to the death penalty

— OH ALSO phoenix was absolutely in the right to take pearl along to investigations in jfa 2-4. can you imagine being what, 8 years old, and your only family left in the entire world is kidnapped, and your other only family left in the entire world fucking leaves you because you’re a kid and ooh kids shouldn’t be exposed to violence ooh? i would have killed phoenix wright. i don’t care if gumshoe babysits her or she gets sent to a daycare or something i would have still killed him. she deserves to be up to date on everything she deserves to see him at his most honest

My canon OTP: miego because i mean. they Are the only canon otp. unless you allow platonic otps in which case it’s nick & maya & pearl again

Non-canon OTP: narumitsu. i am basic and proud.

Most badass character: phoenix and franziska are wrestling for that spot and franziska is winning by sheer dint of the fact that she is 18 years old and fucking Did All Of That while alone and scared and 18 years old

Pairing I am not a fan of: i respect multishipping but i cannot fucking do it for the life of me so like. pretty much anything i have not listed above. wait no lanamia’s fine. everything other than the above and lanamia

Character I feel the writers screwed up: uhhhhhhh hm. not really anyone… larry i suppose? i don’t actually think they did him that badly though, im very invested in him & pearly bonding in heavenly hall. i do also think maya should have gotten some more time to shine in bridge but that’s not a fault of her characterization.

— OH WAIT NO everyone in big top who was in that love triangle except regina. i like all of them as characters and do not want any of them to be predators thanks. I genuinely think it’d be so good if ben max and bat were all 16-18 it drives in the whole “younger than you think they are” theme with franziska

Favorite friendship: nick and maya. of course. honorable mention to larry and pearl who i think discover that they are aromantic together

[sweetestlittledarling]

Waiting for Lark

Part of @monthly-challenge 2024 | Sharing Food

Rating: PG

Pairing: MurielxLark (He/They Apprentice), Muriel&Sparrow (Female Apprentice)

Summary: Muriel and Sparrow haven't actually spent any time alone together and it kind of shows...

(So again takes place in AU with three Apprentices (Robin, Sparrow, and Lark). The title is also a joke on 'Waiting for Godot' because I thought it was funny.)

Muriel opened his door and found Sparrow standing outside of it, looking as if she was about to knock. For a moment, they stood there, just awkwardly staring at one another with neither speaking. Finally, Sparrow spoke, though hesitantly: “Oh hey there Muriel! Um, is Lark home?”

              Muriel shook his head. “He’s out.”

              “Of course he is,” Sparrow sighed, rolling her eyes. “He asks me to stop by and then isn’t even here when I do. I swear sometimes I don’t know where his head is at! Do you know when he’ll be back?”

              Muriel shrugged.

              Again, Sparrow sighed. “Great, well I guess I’ll have to wait for him.” She looked at Muriel with a hopeful expression. “Do you mind if wait here for him?”

              Muriel looked at her in silence. He could see the physical similarities between her and Lark, especially around their face, but where Lark had a more relaxed stance, she was a little stiffer. She stood up straighter, a little bit more than what he guessed people would call refined. She was also still blocking his pathway through the door. “The chickens,” he said.

              She blinked. “Um, what?”

              “I got to feed the chickens,” he said, showing her the bag of feed in his hand.

              “Oh, OH! Yes, sorry!” She stepped aside, letting him step out of the hut and close the door. She watched as he moved past her, stepping around the hut to where the chickens liked to gather. “Maybe I could help?” she offered, moving to stand beside him. “I mean I like animals and it would probably help make the time go faster.”

              Muriel looked at her but said nothing. He grabbed some seed from the bag and began to spread it on the ground. They stood there in silence with Muriel spreading the seeds on the ground.

              “You know we really haven’t had a chance to talk have we,” Sparrow said, filling the silence as she watched him. “I mean we have all hung out together in group things, but I don’t think you and I have really had any time together. I figure that we should probably know each other at least a little bit, you as my brother’s favorite person and me as his sister. I already know Robin’s favorite person since it’s Asra and he’s my teacher and you know Asra because you are friends.” She paused squeezing the strap of the messenger bag across her chest. “I’m sorry, I know you are not much of a talker. I’m just used to Julian who could talk forever if you give him the chance. He could ramble on about nothing at all…kind of like what I’m doing now huh?”

              Muriel said nothing. The chickens, knowing it was time to feed, came marching out of the wood like their own little chicken army. They began to peck at the ground gobbling up the seeds without care.

              “Aww, look at them,” Sparrow cooed, squatting down next to them. She reached out and petted a pretty red chicken. “They are so beautiful and so soft. Malak would be so jealous if he could see me right now. He doesn’t like it when I give other birds attention. He’d be all cawing and fluffing out his feathers, it’s actually quite funny. Kinda surprised he didn’t follow me out here, but I think he is more a city bird like Julian.”

              Muriel watched as she gently pets the chickens. He could now see a bit more similarity between her and Lark, especially in the way their eyes sparkled with gentle fire as they interacted with living creatures. For a moment, the only sound around them was the sound of chickens. Then Sparrow rose and turned to Muriel.

              “There is something I wanted to say to you.”

              He suddenly felt very nervous under her gaze. He looked away.

              “I wanted to say thank you.”

              He felt a surprise blush rise to his cheeks as he turned to her again. “What?”

              She gripped the strap of her bag as she continued. “I wanted to say thank you for helping Lark, for helping him become stronger.”

              Muriel blushed more as he looked away. “Lark did that not me.”

              She thankfully turned her eyes away, which eased some of Muriel’s awkwardness though not very much. “Has Lark ever told you about when we were kids?”

              Muriel shook his head.

              “Well, when we were kids, Lark was always kind of sickly. We were born a month prematurely and for a while no one was sure if we’d make it. But we made it, but Lark always seemed to be getting sick. As the healthier twin I always kind of blamed myself. I know Lark never did but it felt like I had taken all the good healthy genes and left him with whatever was left. So, I always tried to look out for him. Me and Robin would stay with him when he was sick, read to him, play with him, and just generally try to make him happy. Over time he started to get stronger, but the doctors still said that he would probably never really be able to do a lot of physical things. Even with the new body from Asra he didn’t seem physically able.” Sparrow smiled warmly as she looked at Muriel again. “But after meeting you I can see the difference in him. He is lighter, faster, and stronger, able to do things that doctors said he probably would never be able to do. I think it’s partly because of you and your love.”

              Again, Muriel blushed, trying to look at the chickens as he listened.

              “You are right of course, a lot of it is Lark and his own growth but you are a big part of that. So, I just wanted to say thank you, for helping my brother.” There was a pregnant pause, probably waiting for a reaction or an answer but when none came, she nodded. “Well, I probably should get going. I’ll come back another time.” She then turned to leave.

              “You don’t have to leave.”

              She turned around again, looking at him in surprise.

              Muriel didn’t look at her but continued to speak. “You can stay here and wait for Lark. He should be back soon.”

              “Really? I’m not bothering you?”

              Muriel shrugged. “You talk a lot but so does Lark. You two are a lot alike.”

              “Well, I think that would be the twin thing,” Sparrow chuckled, turning back to chickens, who were now happily clucking away. “Oh,” she gasped suddenly, “I almost forgot!” She reached into her bag and pulled out a paper bag, from which she produced a couple of roasted eels on a stick. “Here, Lark told me it was your favorite,” she said handing him both of them. “You could probably have both since I brought one for Lark but since he is not polite enough to meet me here on time, I think it only fair that you have it.”

              Muriel’s lips turned just a bit upwards as he took a bite.

[crobones]

I'll admit it i do not care one bit for 99.99% of self- or reader-insert or OC pairing fics like. I've read some fine ones in the past, but I wish people would take that shit back to wattpad or something idk fuck knows if wattpad is even still around. it's not even the fucking first- or second-person perspective. I just feel like whatever entity is shoved next to a character for the ship has about the same level of chemistry as middle schoolers performing fucking waiting for godot it all just gives raven dementia way but not even in a funny or camp way jfc at least put it under a read more so I don't have to scroll for 5 minutes to pass it. they're fucking everywhere it feels like an infestation.

[writer59january13]

Victorious flirtatious foreplay

Victorious flirtatious foreplay I awoke early - now my body will sleep, though thoughts rise like the Azores of snuggling next to such an adorable atomic bombshell of a beauty - boars into my mind with sonata fantasy syrup passing overdrive way past taxing cores sans crankshaft, pistons and tires viz, the posted reo speedwagon deaf fin knit lee unsafe

to open any passenger doors, where speedometer manifold the limit inxs of sixty nine miles per hour as me heart...lures me to your storybook swiss chalet, and desire pours like exhaust smoke awaiting consummation of intercourse - scores that fills ma cerebral nooks and crannies even if needing to take dee tours. Pepé Le Pew would feel honored if ye wanna reef fur to myself as duh non tat hood test tickle your teacher, 'thou noah way would eye ask four you to pay me any see moo null wage though my golden arched ethos parallels that of a sage homage to my delight with words incur many a recipient to rage

against my swiftly tail lord harried style of writing, whence a reader needs to spend much time flipping thru each page of a dictionary or thesaurus, which mental effort most often does not engage, who doth newt tip a fie formality, thus experiencing virtual and/or real fine companions

scanned or probably deleted via tha eyes of another to jump/kick start a friendship with this nattering nabob of nativity modest guy, whose peculiar mien only his way to greet with a literary "hi" and nada Tubi put off per my poetic manner well nigh which petic penchant

with words I enjoy to apply literary creativity and invite brother/sisterhood a try incorporating thought provoking whimsical phrases flush down into the behavioral sink toil letting with his lukewarm scottish matted trademark uber vapid wry attempts at self mock re: puns - y? I (d-u-y-e-e-r-93 at aye yo elle dot com) dunno!

Ah...the delirious, glorious, and illustrious thought whence never again to cull demise and forever hibernate feeling crushed by the egregious atrocious, heinous, and nemesis, poor ring in of late and thus this obituary epitaph of sorts (no matter he will opt for cremation) finds frenzied strychnine, poison. or hemlock appear savory to this pate

a chance pair of perusing eyes may find this blurb unable to eke quate this plea sprung from plethora of purse son hull wreck - I rate anxiety sweeps across me mental nada so healthy state which panic wrought from poverty per his prone nouns mints uber viz zit with undertaker tete a tete of decades long bout

with a psyche riddled with angst waiting for Godot - Beckett ting this papa who whiz courting escape from the posse aye bill misty eyed gorilla in the midst of his own financial catastrophe, he loathes resorting regarding pots ability panhandling to help him get free of pauperism, which haint no joke, and finds scabrous reply

ample reason to still his life, though ma lovely grown daughters would suffer psychic injury, and forever be psychologically marred if aye did merrily row me figurative boat over the abyss prithee and hope for instant death of mine aura, charisma, and karma see? Tis probably pointless n frivolous to expect presume salvation for this married sexagenarian male, yet nothing this capitalist ventured.... could do no worse as my psyche doth emulate dancing quale for being nearly penniless (in this cornucopia of good n plenti), and rail ling against fate may bring derision per an unpredictable scale argh - doth hardly shed light on my penurious travail cuz thy current checking account without cents nor sensibility

yammers x2c orgasmic gasps with a death rattle does wail boot juiced....maybe lady luck shall draw the gaze of one philanthropic facebook peeper (at least enough largesse to stave off self destruction of spouse) welcome mat would willingly be laid out for grim reaper to whisk me away - so I kin become an eternal sleeper though each surviving loved one, would be inconsolable weeper. so...with fingers and toes clasped I fervently pray this mongrel mutt means no bone(r) to pick only that natural animal desire that libidinal longing to cop you late need to slay lest my lament will be oy vey so please take me - any which way yay! This blurb hunted and pecked out from ma Perkiomen Valley mike crow scope pick dell (actually reef fur ring a computer manufacturer asthma boner fide penile dank cell) and spends his days of his life (as the world turns) where dark shadows lurk along this edge of night off in near distant hour alarm summoning like a suburban church bell from outer limits of twilight zone this self anointed force without raising cain quite able.

[chill-in-heat]

Riverrafting

A bubble raft of equal sized bubbles adopts the hexagonal pattern of a honeycomb. [1] It was floating on the water [2], the saloon garden. She must be near the home but It was absurd trying to remember, when at any moment a wave might submerge her raft forever. [3]

The high presences of the trees surrounded her as if they stood forth at her coming. [4] On every side there seemed an outstretching of greenery moving in equally repetitive fashion. [5] There were special gates covered with greenery leading into all the four parts of the garden. [6] The courtyard wasn’t paved with the usual austere slabs of gray stone but was full of plants and fruit trees. [7] At the front they formed an aetoma, a freely floating baldachin, with the eleventh strip serving as a ceiling. [8] Gothic forms lived on, but little by little they fell silent, ceasing to speak, to recall or instruct. [9]

It must have been years since she had seen Kati. Wondering about the new one, Takeshi.

Natural gifts like his were hard to match. [10] Heavens, what a pair of legs he had! [11] She also picked up two now faded tattoos on his right forearm ("trust her" and "FOREVER violent") [12] and told him:

"They are like a pair of glasses on our nose through which we see whatever we look at." [13] "I don't even wear glasses." [14] Takeshi stated.

Lethe disembarks and floats over to him. Deftly she lifts off his glasses. [15] And reassure him, there's nothing wrong, freedom and fear are always together like an old married couple, each willing to die for the other. [16] The glasses, chinked, vibrate. [17] Kati looks at her japanese companion.

"Your old fashioned spectacles! This requires a completely new style of dress." [18] But Takeshi stayed calm, master of his violence. "Don't worry about me. [19] Dress designing... is to me not a profession but an art." [20]

Takeshi clads himself with periwinkles.

It was not in everybody’s interest that the skirt should be short [21], altough, at that time, he had appropriately fruity tangerine coloured hair. [22] But Kati would say their tastes did match well. [23]

"If you like it, you may take it back with you, as a souvenir of a future friend," she said serenely. [24] A whole new relationship between Takeshi and his truth was beginning to be formulated here. [25] One that he knew all to well. It can’t have come from lack of confidence. [26] A dangerous confidence [27]:

To succeed in getting drunk, but on pure water, that they might turn into butterflies.[28]

The [undramatic] surroundings are forgotten once again. [29] And hence, the whole poem loops back upon itself without closing. [30] Kati and Takeshi are gratefully ignorant again. Thank you ,vuokrasopimus It never fails to work its magic. [31]

[1] Ball, The Selfmade Tapestry Pattern Formation in Nature, [2] Hugo, Les Miserables, [3] Calasso, The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony, [4] Woolf, Night and Day, [5] Asimov, Complete Robot Anthology, [6] Gothein, A History of Garden Art, [7] Calasso, The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony, [8] Semper, Style in the Technical and Tectonic Arts or Practical Aesthetics, [9] Serres, Angels A Modern Myth, [10] Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales, [11] Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales, [12] Duncan, The James Bond Archives, [13] Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, [14] The Young Pope, [15] Greenhalgh, Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky, [16] The Young Pope, [17] Greenhalgh, Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky, [18] Asimov, Complete Robot Anthology, [19] Beckett, Waiting for Godot, [20] Koolhaas, SMLX, [21] Laver, The Concise History of Costume and Fashion, [22] Carter, American Ghosts and Old World Wonders, [23] Koolhaas Obrist, Project Japan, [24] Borges, Collected Fictions, [25] Foucault, History of Madness, [26] Hatherley, A New Kind of Bleak Journeys Through Urban Britai, [27] Glotz, The Greek City and its Institutions, [28] Deleuze Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, [29] Steel, Hungry City How Food Shapes Our Lives, [30] Serres, Hermes Literature Science Philosophy, [31] Deitz, Of Gardens Selected Essays Penn Studies in Lands

[irlchangeling]

summertime

I read Samuel Beckett’s play Waiting for Godot in my modernist drama class. I had read it once before, in my freshman year writer’s studio. The play didn’t make much sense to me at the time, it was just two guys dicking around, killing time to wait for someone who never arrives. It was weird, a little experimental, but not profound. Not to 18-year-old me, anyway.

It was assigned to me again, by a professor who studied the play for three years before teaching it. This time, I took my time to read it. Partially because I’m now 21 and less of a punk, and also because I figured it must somehow be important to read if I’ve encountered it twice.

Despite my reading it again, it still didn’t mean much. It was tedious, nothing happened. Vladimir and Estragon spend two acts waiting for Godot, who never arrives. He always sends his messenger to tell the pair he’ll see them the next day. The next day is like the previous. It’s hellish in a way, like purgatory.

It’s like summertime.

I realized this after spending 3 hours listening to my professor pound the point into my brain. Beckett’s point was that life is just one big cosmic joke, a “universally shared predicament of meaningless action” (pulled verbatim from my notes). Time will pass regardless of what we do, so we need to give our lives meaning ourselves. Which is obvious, now that I think about it.

But school has let out for the summer, and I’m bored. Time passes slowly, and I have too much of it on my hands. Staying busy is my meaning as a student.

What will it be when I graduate?

Is my future meaning to write things that no one will read?

Who knows?

[unionrolli]

One of a pair in waiting for godot

They say they are waiting but Godot does not come and the act ends with waiting. For instance, when characters come on stage they reveal their purpose. It starts with a situation and ends with it. Hence, lack of characterization proves that “Waiting of Godot” is a play of absurd theater. Although it is explicit that they are waiting for Godot yet it is not told to the audience that what purpose Godot will serve if he comes. We know only their names and their miserable situation. “Waiting for Godot” is Absurd Play due to Lack of Characterization : In this ways, “Waiting for Godot” fulfills first requirement of an absurd play. Vladimir and Estragon wait for Godot and audience perceive that perhaps real story of the play will start after Godot’s arrival but Godot does not appear on stage nor is he introduced to the audience. Actions of characters are not related to plot but to themselves. They stand still in front of audience and do nothing except passing the ball. The play starts with waiting and ends with it. “Waiting for Godot” does not tell any story nor does it has a plot. It has no story, no characterization, no beginning nor any end, unexplained themes, imitation of dreams and nightmares and above all it contains useless dialogues. “Waiting for Godot” fulfills every requirement of an absurd play. Imitation of dreams or nightmares instead of nature.These remarks provide us following characteristics of absurd theater: “If a good play must have a cleverly constructed story, these have no story or plot to speak of a good play is judged by subtlety of characterization and motivation, these are often without recognizable characters and present the audience with almost mechanical puppets a good play has to have a fully explained theme, which is neatly exposed and finally solved, these often have neither a beginning nor an end if a good play is to hold the mirror up to nature and portray the manners and mannerisms of the age in finely observed sketches, these seem often to be reflections of dreams and nightmares if a good play relies on witty repartee and pointed dialogue, these often consist of incoherent babblings.” Martin Esslin on absurd plays Characteristics of Absurd Theater:įrom the above said remarks it is crystal clear that absurd plays were entirely different from traditional plays. However, Martin Esslin provided an informal definition of absurd plays and “absurd theater” in following words: No clear definition of theater of absurd is available. In simple words, performance of plays that were written by group of unconventional writers was called theater of absurd. There was no regular movement regarding theater of absurd rather it was a group of people who wrote plays without following the conventional rules. His play “Waiting for Godot” also belonged to the same category and was called absurd play. Samuel Beckett was one of those dramatists who had largest contribution in “Absurd Theater”. It dealt with the dramatists who belonged to a movement called “Absurd Theater” though it was not regular. Martin Esslin wrote a book titled “Theatre of the Absurd” that was published in year 1961.

[i-llbedammned]

After All These Years

Title: After All These Years

Fandom: Ace Attorney

Pairing: Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright

Summary: Phoenix is not feeling the Valentine's Day spirit so Miles, with some help, takes it upon himself to plan a day full of surprises to try and help him remember romance. Read more at AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45127795 Or Below Valentine ’s Day together was a bit of a trip, to put it lightly. Phoenix had celebrated a few of them before, but never quite this way. Previously it had been him pouring his heart out to people, showering them with flowers and kinds words, only to be met with the most mediocre of responses. This year he was determined to be different. This year he wasn’t going to care, he was going to live his life and not make too big of things. He would be cool, restrained, and effortless. Given the way that both of their lives worked, honestly, Phoenix should have expected that Miles Edgeworth would be the man to prove him wrong. He always was.

The first surprise was waiting in Phoenix’s office, specifically his desk, when he came to work in the morning. It was simple, just a cup of hot coffee waiting there for him. A note next to it read, This year, Valentine's Day is my treat. -Miles"

“Maya, when did Edgeworth drop this off?” Phoenix called in to the other room.

“He just dropped it off like ten minutes ago. Why?” Maya called back, not bothering to move from her seat.

Phoenix leaned in the doorway, taking a sip of mug. It was rich, earthy and exactly what he needed. “Did he say anything odd while he was here?”

Maya shrugged, sending off a text with her phone, “Something about the game being afoot now. Oh! And good luck! I just figured it was lawyer talk.” Phoenix sighed, “Yeah, something along those lines.” Maya popped her head up, looking over at him with suspicious eyes. “You okay? Usually you’re more bubbly. I thought that you’d be excited to give your boyfriend gifts.”

“He’s not- I just-“ Phoenix sputtered, nearly dropping the coffee, “It’s just tiring, okay? All this holiday stuff is tiring.”

He drank more of the coffee when something caught his eye. Ink, at the bottom of the mug. What the- ? A bit more, a bit more. Dumping out the coffee would be a waste and even though he wasn’t really a Godot about it he had grown up too poor to want to just throw away food.

Where we first met.

Guess that meant Miles was waiting for him somewhere.

Most would likely say the courtroom, but Phoenix knew that they first met at school. But he highly doubted that Edgeworth would expect him to go into a school. That kind of sounded like a good way to get arrested. All the same he hopped on his bike and started on his way.

It was a stupid holiday, but he didn’t want to leave Miles waiting. That would just be rude. And knowing their luck the longer he was left unsupervised the more likely that one of them would be accused of murder.

The bustle of the city grew more distant and the pace of the world became slower as he biked. The sun shone through the branches brightly on this surprisingly mild Valentine’s Day. A few people were winding their way through the stores.

It had been so long since he had been to the suburbs, he had almost forgotten how quiet it was. The cars in the center of the city were so loud, like a background buzzing of a hive. Here he could hear the wind blowing through the long grass.

Phoenix remembered them playing games together on days like this, running like nutcases over the playground and hiding from the teachers. They always got caught, but it was worth it every time to be so breathlessly having fun.

As he approached the school building, he saw that school was out. A sigh escaped Phoenix. Good, that meant less kids. His blue eyes scanned the area, hoping that he didn’t look too conspicuous. A few parents walking buy looked at him oddly but didn’t talk to him.

“Hey,” came a creaky old voice, “You the lawyer?”

Phoenix turned, looking at an older woman on the bench. She was wrapped up in a mess of purple scarves and long green skirts, her eyes barely visible over and under the scarves.

Phoenix put a hand behind his head, nervously laughing, “Yeah, who are you?”

“Just here to help. Mystic Maya told me you needed help.” She looked at him intensely with her brown eyes, “I still don’t see what he see in you.”

“Pardon?” An edge of sleight annoyance made its way into Phoenix’s voice. The last thing he wanted on this holiday was to be harassed for picking someone that “didn’t suit him”, whatever that meant.

“Edgeworth. I don’t know why he picked you. But he really likes you.” She handed him a heart, “Don’t break his heart or auntie will have to find you.” She cackled and for a moment Phoenix pictured her like a witch out of an old movie.

“Yeah, uh, I’m really lucky I guess.” He looked at the object she handed him. A box of chocolates in a little heart. He opened it. These were surprisingly good chocolates, filled with cherries. There would be time to eat them later. There! On the underside of the chocolate box, the long flowing script.

Where the Crime Happened that Saved My Life Phoenix smiled and put the lid. It would have been worrying if they weren’t lawyers, but Phoenix knew exactly where he meant. It was a murder, two gunshots in the middle of a lake. A man lost his life, but it was only through that Miles was able to reclaim his life and let go of over a decade’s worth of guilt.

After the trial they got dinner. Miles was practically shaking, the after effects of adrenaline flowing through him after having realized that he was free, that he had always been free, that he had never committed a murder in his entire life. He was doing a good job of hiding it, but Phoenix had been sitting next to him as the dinner whirled around them both. He saw the prosecutor’s hands gripping his legs in a death grip.

Without saying anything Phoenix reached down and poked at his hand with his fingers. Miles’ started, looking down and then looked over. Phoenix smiled, gently, and placed his hand over the other man’s. Miles relaxed and looked forward, but underneath the table his fingers curled around Phoenix’s. It didn’t last long, but after Phoenix kept tracing over the places where their fingers had met and grinning like an idiot.

The park, the lake, that is where that had all started.

There were gaggles of people clustering around the lake, all getting heart shaped balloon and trying to get little two person boats. Boats, Miles better not have gotten them a boat. He didn’t think his body could take a boat.

“Hooray! You made it!” came a small, excited voice as confetti rained down upon him.

Phoenix looked down, seeing a very excited Peal Fey grinning up at him, “You’re in on this too?”

“Of course! Mystic Maya asked if I could help you and Mister Edgeworth have a good day! I don’t want to let her down!” Pearl reached in a small bag she had, “He left this for you!” A rose, bright red, with a note at the bottom.

Where We First Kissed Phoenix went to go thank Pearl, but she was already whirling off to go and get a Samurai Dog from Larry at the hot dog stand. The defense attorney took the opportunity to escape before she got to questioning too much why Mister Edgeworth was leaving him roses.

His aching legs hoped this was the last step. The day was getting later and honestly, he wanted to see Miles not just his hand writing. Also biking all this way was a sweaty mess. Up a hill, to the restaurant where they went all those years ago. It was a low-key place with a lovely view of the city. They had drank wine and eaten lovely fish and rice, watching the sun go down over the hill.

Phoenix had gotten up to use the bathroom and when he got out, Miles was already standing. He thanks Phoenix for a wonderful dinner and then bent over, placing a kiss on his lips. Phoenix had been reeling from the emotions, so much so that he almost didn’t notice how worried Miles looked after he did so. The worry let up as Phoenix wrapped his arms around the other man and returned the gesture. Sometimes it was easy to forget how nervous the man was in social situations when he behaved so confidently in court.

The restaurant still looked the same, dark wood with white walls. Today there was the soft sound of violins coming from the building. Despite himself, despite how tired he felt with the holiday and the background, he wanted to show Miles the violins.

Phoenix parked his bike and looked around, appreciating the way the wind blew through his hair. It felt cool, nice and carried the scent of sandalwood.

“Glad you could make it, Wright.” Came Miles’ voice from behind him.

The sight was so beautiful that for a moment Phoenix was winded. Miles was wearing a regal looking black suit with a bright red rose pinned to it, standing out against the bright blue sky and brown buildings around them. In his arms was a brown bag that he handed off to Phoenix with a kiss on the cheek.

“You seemed tired. I wanted to do something nice for you.” Miles brushed his hands over Phoenix’s cheeks, sending up a thrill of bright red blush.

“So you sent me on a bike ride across the city?!” Phoenix said exasperatedly.

“Not that kind of tired.” Edgeworth shifted around, trying to find the right words, “Tired of life. Of cases. I got….concerned. I know how it can get.” He looked up at the sky, “So I figured I would remind you of the past, of the nicer moments. Do something for you since you often end up planning these outings.”

He was right, of course. Over the past few weeks everything had seemed like a chore, this holiday was no exception. Phoenix didn’t even notice it, til it was pointed out.

“How many people knew about this?” Phoenix marveled.

“A few. I recruited Maya to help. I truthfully am not sure who else she contacted.” Miles raised an eyebrow, “Was there a lot of people?”

There was something touching about this, about knowing how many people had to come together to just make sure he got to his date at the right time and place, and also utterly ridiculous. Phoenix began to laugh. And laugh. It was wonderful to feel something other than tired, to feel joyous.

“Now I look like a mess! How am I supposed to eat dinner like this?” Half-assed Phoenix began to try and smooth out his hair, to unwrinkled parts of his suit. So much for cool and effortless. It was sweet of Miles, but also he didn’t own a car!

“I didn’t expect you to wear a suit all day!” Miles laughed, kissing the top of Phoenix’s head, “But I just might have a solution. Check the bag, Wright.”

Phoenix opened up the bag he had been handed and inside was a new suit, purple this time and a rich silk. It felt sinfully soft when he touched it.

“Go change. We have a reservation to get to. I’ll see you at the table.” Then he was gone, drifting over the yard and talking to the waiter.

A few moments, and an awkward conversation with a bathroom attendant, later he arrived at the table. It was set up outside and the sun was setting, casting everything in an orange light. Miles’ face lit up, brighter than the sun surrounding them.

“You look beautiful.” Miles rolled the words around slowly, drinking in the sight of him in the new suit. Beautiful. Even after all these years he never got used to this man paying him compliments.

Phoenix grinned, “Coming from you, I think I can believe it. Anyone else I’d call a liar.”

“Why bother lying?” Miles shrugged his shoulders, “You could see the locks as soon as I did so anyway.”

Phoenix sat down let the sound of violins flow over them both. He picked up the wine glass, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Miles lifted his glass and the clinked them together, “To the past and the future.”