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jo-the-schmo · 6 years

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Red, Dead, Reflections Ch.2

Chapter 1

A/N: Finally! Chapter 2! Remember how I kept saying I was trying to get to a certain part and that’s why it was taking so long? Well, I decided to keep that until the next chapter because it was taking so long and I was already pushing a hefty word count as is. Also, the writing in this chapter isn’t as good as chapter 1 and I’m sorry about that. I’ll do my best to make chapter 3 more enjoyable. I tried really hard with this one but it just didn’t stick. It happens to all of us. I hope you still like it, though!

Word count: 9,150 (I’m so sorry)

Warnings: Blood, animal death, explicit language, mentions of racism (not expanded, I’m white, I don’t want to be disrespectful)

Summary: At the age of 23, you and your pseudo-family perform a heist gone wrong, leading you into a dangerous position. Discover your own history, the story of those around you, and gain new relationships along the way in this (eventual) choose your own adventure.

Tags!: @zoilalove213 @eccentricc-catt

A/N pt.2: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO LIKED CHAPTER 1! Special thanks to those who wanted to be tagged and those who gave me nice reviews, I love you guys so much! I’m also super sorry that this chapter is mostly character introductions and being on the mountain. I promise you’ll get off this mountain soon! I refuse to have y’all still up there at any point during chapter 4. Hopefully that’ll make up for this gross writing. If the read more function still isn’t working, I’m gonna break Tumblr in half.

Edit: Holy shit I’m a moron, I forgot to add the title omg I’m a fucking moron

Keep Your Eyes On The Prize

Warmth enraptured your being, wrapping around you. Your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you saw was a fire a few feet away from you. That and the pile of blankets on top of you would explain the all-consuming heat. Where am I now? You heard a light patter coming towards you. You threw the blankets off to ready yourself, worried it could be someone trying to get the upper hand on you. You were surprised to see a small figure with dark hair, who had frozen himself in place. It was a little boy. You raised your hand to surrender.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You took a deep breath, you lowered your arms when he resumed his approach.

“Don’t worry, I’m not scared.” He hopped up to sit next to you. It just occurred to you that you had been laying on a cot. “Uncle Arthur says you’re a friend, so I wanted to watch out for you.” So that wasn’t a dream.

“Oh, well that’s very nice of you. What’s your name, buddy?” You took on a softer tone, it made you sound more feminine, but you weren’t worried about that.

“Jack Marston. My momma’s been helping to take care of you. Her and Uncle Hosea. They said your name was James?”

“Yes, sir.” You smiled. You thought it better to be safe and keep up the act.

“Uncle Dutch wants to say hi to you now that you’re awake. I can take you to him.” He jumped up, he seemed to be excited that someone new was around You conceded and pried yourself from the cot. Your chest ached. I’ll have to loosen this band again soon, no more sleeping in this thing. Your wig felt askew, so you quickly moved it back in place before the two of exited the room. You left the cabin with Jack, he led you to another one close by. You passed by a woman with long brunette hair who sent you a curious glance. Jack grabbed your hand and pulled you through the door, there was a parade of men all around.

“Ah, it seems our young gentle-friend has awoken from his slumber.” Dutch announced, everyone looked in your direction. No matter how tough you were, a group of this many people would intimidate you. You recognized Arthur and Micah on opposite sides of the room. Jack tugged on your arm again, prompting you to take a few cautious steps into the herd of questioning eyes.

“Is one of you Hosea by chance?” You asked, already slightly out of breath. You still felt exhausted, and your head was killing you. An older man with a stripped scarf stepped forward, a warm smile on his face.

“That would be me, young man.” You weakly gripped his shoulder, partly for a support and partly to show appreciation.

“Jack told me you were one of the people to take care of me, thank you.” His smile widened.

“Oh, it was no trouble, young man.” He looked over at Dutch. “You were right, Dutch. Boy’s got good manners.”

“I told ya you’d like him!” He bellowed humorously. “Young Jack, could you please help Mr. West over here by me?” Jack nodded, ushering you over to the man in the dense black coat. Dutch wrapped an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady, but it was also so that he could present you to the crowd of men in front of you. “Now, gentlemen. This here is James West. He’s a fellow from California who’ lost his way. But make no mistakes, Mr. Morgan and I have both seen the carnage this boy can cause with just his bare hands. We believe that he was captured by those nasty O’Driscolls and took quite the beating because of it. Unfortunately for both us and poor James here, it seems that the injuries he sustained have given him some memory loss.” Memory loss? “He couldn’t even believe what year it was. But he is coherent enough to remember his name and state of residence.” He looked over at you. “Now young man, we know this could be difficult, but you could you try and tell us the last thing you recall.”

These people were insane, or at least you thought they were. You wouldn’t know until you got off this mountain and found some other people, which was clearly not happening any time soon. For now, this was your situation. You were stuck on some mountain in the middle of who-knows-where with bunch of people who thought the year was 1899 and that you were some man who experienced enough blunt-force head trauma to get some mild amnesia. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds you, so you made an executive decision. Play along until you can get to safety.

“I was…with my friends.” These people were willing to kill, so there was no way crime bothered them any. “We were robbing a bank, it went wrong.” You recalled the image of Eli, Austin, and Miguel running away from the scene. “I got hit…and that’s all I remember.” The only parts you were excluding were the fact that you were shot multiple times and that it was 2019.

“Robbing a bank, huh?” You peaked his interest. “So, you’re an outlaw then, Mr. West.”

“You could call me that, I suppose.”

“Can you shoot?” Micah chimed.

“Oh, I can more than shoot, pal.” This guy rubbed you the wrong way, and you could see a sort of look of approval from Arthur after you said that.

“Wonderful! That means you may repay us for our kindness. I don’t have all the details worked out yet, but I’ll call for you when the time comes. For now, I’d like for you to get situated among our presence. Go on now, introduce yourself to everyone.” Dutch gave a firm pat on the back, your chest tightened. Gasping for air, you checked around the room. There was a room with a door nearby, you stumbled inside, hearing the suspicious whispers of the men behind you hushed by the closing of the door.

You pressed your back against the wood to keep it shut, stripping out of your jacket and shirt. Your ribs ached while you fumbled around. Eventually, you were able to unwind the band almost fully, the long appendages hanging loosely around your form with your left arm holding the rest of it in place. Your whole chest felt like it was on fire.

“This is what you get for leaving it on, idiot.” You whispered to yourself. You weren’t sure what you were going to do. There were a bunch of people out there waiting for you to come out and you were trapping yourself inside with your secret. “I just need a minute…shit, that hurts.”

You saw your reflection in the window across from you. Well, sort of. It was more like a clouded outline. But you could see the shift in color where the band had been wrapped. Your skin was raw. You could also see two bruises that blended into each other on your forehead, and a dark one on the bridge of your nose. That guy really got you. You pushed yourself off the door, already wincing from the anticipation of needing to bind your chest again. You readjusted and began to wrap. Not so tight this time. You would just be walking around today, there shouldn’t be an issue of it staying in place. You finally managed to get it mostly back together and went to pick up your shirt when you heard the door knob turning. You scrambled to the ground, throwing your jacket over your back. You were surprised to only see Hosea walk in and shut the door behind him. The look in his eyes was knowing and curious. You stood to your feet, arms invisible from underneath the jacket. He looked at your shirt on the ground.

“It seems my suspicions were correct. You aren’t being entirely honest with us, James.” His tone wasn’t worrying, but you thought you’d better explain yourself, fast.

“I’m so sorry, it wasn’t my intention to-“

“Don’t worry about it, son.” He interrupted, leaving you confused. You turned around, using your hand to clasp the jacket closed, hiding yourself from view.

“What?”

“I’ve met many folks in my life, young man. I won’t ask what your situation is, I don’t believe that’s my place yet. But I won’t speak a word of this, just a secret between us.” You breathed a sigh of relief, at least you knew now that one of these men was decent.

“Thank you, Hosea. I really appreciate this, you have no idea.”

“I think I can get some of the picture.” He smiled. “You’re an outlaw, sonny. An outlaw is whoever they want to be.” He turned back towards the door. “Now I’m supposed to be in here checking on you, making sure you aren’t up to anything.”

“That’s fair.” You chuckled.

“So, I have to stay in here with you until you’re ready, but I’ll give you your privacy, don’t worry.” You were thankful that one of these people may be able to keep you on everyone’s good side.

“That’s very kind of you, I can’t thank you enough for this.” You made sure to hurry up and get your shirt and jacket back on. You fixed two of the pins for your wig while you were at it. You were glad Hosea seemed smart enough, you wouldn’t take his kindness for granted, no matter how crazy these people seemed. But you had to be more careful. This wasn’t a time for everyone to be finding out you were not only lying, but the vast list of other things wrong with your situation. The further you could separate yourself from what you had gotten up to the better. These men were killers, but they weren’t you.

“Are you ready, James?” Hosea asked.

“Yes, is everyone still out there?”

“I believe only Dutch and Arthur stayed behind. Arthur and I are supposed to introduce you to everyone.” You nodded, he opened to door and you followed him out to where Dutch and Arthur were talking.

“Ah, thank goodness! What came over you, friend?” Dutch questioned.

“I believe we pushed him too far with the questions, Dutch. He lost his head for a moment.” Hosea excused.

“Yes, I’m sorry for that rude exit. Not sure what happened entirely.” You tried to reassure.

“I see, perhaps we should let the boy rest a bit longer.”

“Thank you, sir, but there’s no need. I don’t wanna be a bother, the least I could do is help around, be of some use.” Now was the time to suck up. You had to repay your debt to him and gain his trust. He liked your answer. He was clearly the leader of the group, and from the few interactions you’d had, you could tell they were tight knit. If you wanted to get off this mountain and not end up like those men at the cabin, you’d have to play into their hand.

“That’s a good man right there, I think we struck luck with this one!” He gestured between Arthur and Hosea. “Could you two show him around, we want him to get acquainted with everyone in camp before we get any further.” They agreed and led you back outside.

“Okay, Hosea, where should we start first?” Arthur asked, fixing his gloves.

“Well, I have some business to discuss with Miss Grimshaw, so I would prefer we find her first.”

“Will Jack’s mom be there? He said she was looking out for me too and I’d like to thank her personally for that.”

“She may be, but we are sure to run into her soon, so don’t fret.” Hosea said. Your group walked trudged through the snow to get to a wooden cabin. You saw mostly women inside, including the brunette who looked at you earlier and Mrs. Adler.

“Fine weather we’re having, ladies.” Arthur joked.

“Yeah, real funny.” A blonde woman rolled her eyes.

“It was. Anyhow, this here is James West. I know y’all have been real curious about him.” You followed their lead and walked over to the group of women. An older woman came forward with her hands on her hips.

“This here is Miss Grimshaw, James. You best respect her, Dutch may want to think we’re his people but we’re really hers.” Hosea’s eyes wrinkled at his own humor.

“Of course, thank you for showing me kindness, Miss Grimshaw.” You made sure to sound serious. You weren’t planning on disrespecting anyone, let alone someone who seemed so important. She cracked a grin and pinched your cheeks. You almost squeaked in surprise, but you managed to hold it in.

“Boy’s got a prettier face than you, Arthur! How old are ya?” She teased.

“23, Miss, that is if my memory serves.”

“Ah, we got ourselves a young one! He’ll be able to do some mighty fine work once he’s back in order. You be sure to repay our kindness, ya got that, young man?”

“With pleasure, Miss. I always repay my debts.” That was certainly true in most cases.

“You also best be careful-“ She grabbed the edge of your jacket and yanked you closer. She lowered her voice in your ear. “Don’t try anything with my girls, ya hear? If I find out you’ve been disrespectful to any of them, my face will be the last thing you see.” She let go to gauge your reaction.

“Of course, Miss Grimshaw. I would never dream of overstepping my bounds. You have my word.” You bowed your head at her as a sign of honest intentions. Her smile returned.

“Fantastic!” She hooked her arm around yours and lead you closer to the women. “I’ll introduce you then.” She pointed to the blonde with the whole body eyeroll. “The smart mouth is Karen Jones.”

“Howdy.” She waved. Next to her was a red head.

“That one’s Molly O’Shea.” Miss Grimshaw looked at the woman with warm, dark skin in a yellow skirt. “That’s Tilly Jackson, don’t let her sweet talk ya.”

“Hello.” Tilly said with energy in very voice. It suddenly dawned on you that these people were surprisingly less racist than to be expected out of anyone who thinks it’s 1899. You felt lucky for that one. It would tear you up to discover that anyone was being treated badly. These guys may have lost their minds, but intolerance wasn’t something that you tolerated. Especially after everything in your life.

“That’s Mary-Beth.” She pointed out the brunette from outside, she smiled sweetly up at you.

“Nice to meet you.” She went back to writing after hitting you with that same glance from earlier. The last woman looked up from what she was doing, she was wearing a black hood over her head. “Abigail Marston, she’s my hardest worker.” You recognized the name.

“Are you Jack’s, mother?” You asked.

“Yes, I am.” You carefully stepped over and kneeled down to the level she was sitting at.

“He told me you were one of the people to take care of me while I was out, I wanted to thank you personally for your generosity.” You bowed your head and stood up. “Thank you, Mrs. Marston.”

“Well ain’t you just the definition of a gentleman.” Arthur was clearly trying to tease you, boys were usually like that.

“Don’t get anywhere in life without being kind to those who are kind to you.”

“Fair enough.” You were glad he agreed. You turned your attention back to the women.

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my name is James West, by the way. I know Arthur already said that, but I try my best to be polite.” Try is the operative word here. Karen whispered to Mary-Beth and Tilly.

“Arthur, take James over to meet the boys and make a good second-impression. I have to speak to Miss Grimshaw for a moment on matters of housing. I’ll meet you over there.” Hosea said as he pulled Miss Grimshaw aside. Arthur lazily waved you over and you made sure not to delay this. You looked back at the group as you walked.

“Thank you for your time, it was nice to meet all of you.” Arthur let you walk out first. The wind hit you like a truck. Arthur held your shoulder to keep you in place and make sure you wouldn’t blow away.

“Ya alright there, partner?” You steadied yourself, he released his grip.

“Yeah, I’m good. Not used to this kind of cold. Thanks for the help.”

“Everyone went back to their cabin after your episode.” The two of you marched toward the cabin you had woken up in. There was muffled yet loud conversation happening inside. The second the door opened, everyone got quiet. “Hello again, gentlemen.” The room sounded with a few ‘hey Arthur’s before going back down again, everyone was locking eyes on you. It wasn’t a good idea to hide behind Arthur and let him do the talking, they’d prefer you explain yourself.

“Hello everyone.” You stepped around the bulky blue coat, throwing yourself into the spotlight. “My head was unwell back there, I apologize for that. My name is James West, I’d like to help you in anyway I can. I’d hate to mooch off of your hospitality.” They seemed to approve of your answers so far.

“Well don’t be shy, ya idiots, introduce yourself, shake the boy’s hand or somethin’.” Arthur really did have no filter, huh? The first person to approach you was a man wearing a giant black hat and an equally frightening mustache. He took your hand in an eager handshake, which surprised you to say the least.

“Reverend Swanson, Orville Swanson.” Ah, a holy man, a bit ironic for the situation, isn’t it? You coughed and got your voice back into place.

“Good to meet ya, Reverend.” You pushed past him and put yourself in the center of 3 men who were sitting near each other. The youngest one stood up first. He looked to be around your age but definitely younger, which made you kinda mad that everyone was acting like you were so young. That told you they were trying to prove a point.

“Lenny Summers, nice meeting ya.” You gave him a firm handshake. You felt surprisingly comfortable with him, since he was about your age, time to lighten the mood.

“Summers? Don’t’cha mean Winters?” You pointed at the window that was mostly boarded up but showed some of the snow outside through the cracks. He held in some kind of sound, only a little creak escaping. You considered that to be a win in Y/N’s a Comedy Master, Volume VI. The other two squinted there eyes, but you could tell they were hiding their amusement. Lenny sat down, the man with very interesting facial hair stood up. It didn’t look bad on him, you were just confused as to what you’d classify it as for a second. If anything, the hat was what threw you off the most. It suddenly dawned on you that a lot of these guys would look better without their hats. You paused that thought for a moment.

“Javier Escuella. Pleasure.” He smirked.

“It’s good to meet you, Javier.” His handshake was not as hesitant as Lenny’s was by comparison, but it was fairly quick. The last man in the semi-circle stood. And he was a giant. You had seen him earlier but for some reason his height and just overall existence didn’t hit you until that moment. He had the longest hair of anyone in the room. Maybe you’d be able to get out of wearing the wig over time. With some lying, obviously. You held your hand out to him first.

“James, it’s nice to meet you.” His handshake was unexpectedly gentle.

“Charles, Charles Smith.” His voice was also softer than you’d have predicted. You supposed he didn’t need to compensate for presence so there wasn’t a point in being loud. You could tell right off the bat that he was a quiet type, but you were used to that from Miguel, so it didn’t matter much. You turned away to face the 3 other men on the other side of the room. You already knew the blonde one.

“Micah, right?” You asked. You didn’t particularly want to get near him, but you conceded and held your hand out. He squeezed your hand just a little too hard, you did the same in return, and a little too much energy was put into it. He was still mad about your first encounter with him in the cabin. “Good to finally get a proper introduction.”

“Yeah, right.” You made the mental note that he was for sure an asshole and to watch out for him. A different man grabbed your attention, he didn’t seem pleased.

“My name is Simon Pearson, I’m the cook around here, and with you and that new woman hanging about, you better be helping enough to get your share.” You remember Arthur mentioning him. You shook his hand with both of yours to signify peacemaking.

“Of course, sir. I’ll do more than my share. I’m always willing to help.” You were aware that a lot of the things you were saying were repetitive, but that was usually how mass introductions went. A man with a very full beard was the last one at the moment. “Hello, I’m James West.”

“Bill.” He answered simply. Okay, not in the talking mood right now. Got it. You heard Arthur’s voice again.

“John’s out of commission at the moment, we won’t be worried about that dumbass.” You heard a familiar patter on the floor coming in your direction.

“James!” Jack rammed into your leg before you got a chance to react. He almost knocked you off balance.

“Woah, hey there, buddy.” You knelt down in front of him to get on his level. “What have you been up to? On patrol?” He seemed to be the only kid here, that’s gotta be stressful on him.

“Yeah! Been waiting outside Papa’s room since you’re awake now.” He informed.

“Wow, strong and vigilant? You’re a real power house there, little man.” You balled your hands into fists and lightly bopped him on the chest, one with each hand. “Pow, pow!” You exaggerated onomatopoeically. You could tell this was more interaction than he was used to. You were more than happy to brighten his mood.

“Uncle Dutch says you’re a good fighter.”

“Uncle Dutch would be right, gotta hit ’em with that one-two!” You hit him two more times, a wide smile on his face. He mimicked the way you blocked your face with your hands. His small fist gingerly punched your forearm. “Come on! You can do better than that, buddy!” You stood up, bouncing and shifting your weight between your feet. He tried to do the same, but it came out more as an awkward skip-in-place. “See? You’re a natural, little dude! A little practice and you could pin all of us.” He hit your knee a couple times, making little ‘psh’ sounds when he did.

“Will you teach me?” He was elated, you weren’t sure how long you’d be with them, but it seemed like you’d be up here for a while. Might as well, it also might win you bonus points with the others. But in all honesty, you weren’t thinking about that much.

“Sure thing, buddy.” He was really happy for that answer. “But…” He paused. You swooped down and picked him up, resting him on your shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Lesson number one, never let your opponent take you off guard, or something unexpected might happen.” You were suddenly very aware that you weren’t alone in the room. You got so distracted by Jack that you forgot that you were in a room full of people. Jack squirmed around, laughing with the kind of energy you’d expect from a kid without child interaction and stuck on a recluse mountain with a bunch of sad-sack adults.

“Uncle Arthur! Javier!” He took a breath between fits of giggles. “You’re upside down!”

“Alright, little dude.” You made sure to be gentle as you set him back down to his feet. “I’ll teach some more later, okay?” You looked over, everyone was staring at you with varying looks about them Confusions, amusement, conjecture. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, how could any of you say no to this face?” You ruffled Jack’s hair. “That’s an objectively sweet face that you can’t say no to.”

“I don’t know ‘bout sweet, but he’s rambunctious that’s for sure.” Arthur commented with the knowing nods of several men as their response. You crossed your arms as Jack ran off to do something else.

“How long have you all been stuck up here?”

“A few days,” Charles started, “A few bad days at that.”

“We’re running low on supplies, food most importantly.” Pearson added. “I haven’t been able to do my job properly since we got up here, ever since Blackwater.” Blackwater? You wanted to ask, but the look on everyone’s faces told you you’d be overstepping your bounds. You decided to go a different direction.

“I know we’re in the middle of winter, but there’s gotta be animals, yeah?”

“Everyone I’ve sent out as come up empty-handed.”

“No, James is right. There’s game on this mountain, we just aren’t finding it.” Charles gestured to his wrapped hand. “And this certainly isn’t making me feel better about it. I’m going hunting.” He stood and walked over to a corner where some things were sitting.

“Yer hand’s burnt, you won’t be able to shoot.” Arthur’s accent slurred. Charles was about to say something, but you cut him off.

“Yeah, and? His hands don’t need to work for tracking. Just send someone else up there with him who can kill.”

“That’s a great idea! You and Arthur can go with him!” Pearson sassed, “That man’s been irritable with nothing to do.” Arthur grumbled in response.

“I’d be more than happy to help,” You really wanted to get back in your element. All this social work was more Austin and Gina’s speed. “but I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be.”

“You ever been hunting?” Charles went and handed a bow to Arthur.

“Something like that.”

“That’s better than nothing in my opinion. Come on, you can borrow one of the others’ horses.” Someone walked in.

“You can take mine. Silver Dollar should be pretty tame for you.” It was Hosea.

“Meet us there my ass, old man.” The blue-clad cowboy mocked.

“Apologies, got a bit held up with preparations. Charles, Arthur, bring back something good and make sure the kid gets the hang of things.” Hhhhhh, Hosea you’re really nice, but please don’t call me kid. Now wasn’t the time for corrections, you could do that later. They agreed and motioned for you to follow them outside.

The window was starting to slow down, which was more than welcome in your opinion. The snow crunched lightly, the way it does when multiple people have already walked on it. You missed California’s ridiculous heat. Despite the air being cold though, it was much easier to breathe than that smog. Your eyes burned from the sun reflecting off the plush snow. This is fucking blinding, how can any of you see ever? The three of you approached what was, basically to you, a herd of horses. They mounted their horses on silence, you approached a grey one.

“I’m going to assume this is Silver Dollar?” Arthur nodded to confirm your suspicions. You pulled yourself up and adjusted. Alright, just a group of guys going huntin’, just a couple of dudes, some good’ol’boys…how do I make this thing go? You looked up to try and learn through observation. Okay, I’ll just…give him a little- you lightly tapped your heel against the side of the horse, he came to a trot, following behind Charles. Don’t show any fear, they can sense it. Just be chill and respect the animal, and he’ll do the same for you. You at least would hope that for the time being.

Charles and Arthur picked up the pace, so you followed suit, not nearly as fast, but you were at least keeping up. There was a gaping silence that didn’t bother you. It finally gave you a chance to take in your surroundings. To say that the scenery was breathtaking would be an understatement. You weren’t sure if you had seen anything more beautiful in your entire life. Why had you never gone this far out? It seemed like a good a place as any to hide away, other than the blizzards. Charles broke that silence all too soon.

“What did you mean earlier? About hunting.” He clarified. You recalled your answer from earlier.

“Yeah, I was wonderin’ ‘bout that.” Arthur added. You tried to think of a way to phrase this without giving too much away.

“It wasn’t so much hunting as it was scavenging at that point. Can’t hunt something that’s already dead. Tracks and all.”

“Scavengin’?”

“Times were…desperate.” You decided to leave it at that for the time being.

“Have you ever tracked a deer?” Charles asked.

“Not a deer, but if you point some out to me, I should be able to find it pretty easily.”

“Good, we’ll need 2. You and Arthur get one each.” It wasn’t long before you passed through a stream and then came upon a clearing where Charles told you two to slow down. You followed in his example when he dismounted. “We’ll need to continue on foot from here.” He pointed at a trail of imprints in the ground. “Think you can find that?”

“Yeah, no problem.” You followed along it, just walking for a few steps to make an assessment. “She definitely isn’t far. The snow is deep, and the tracks are undisturbed.” You had never been out looking for food in the snow, but it seemed easier than dry ass California. You stopped to look ahead, listened closely. You could hear another part of the stream you passed earlier. Animals get thirsty too. “Alright, get down low, don’t wanna make too much noise.” Arthur seemed reluctant, but Charles was pleased with your competence. It was odd to slink around in broad daylight, but there was no helping it. You saw one in the distance.

“Arthur, ready yourself.” Charles took the lead now, inching the group a few feet closer. It was a buck. But there did seem to be a few others scattered about. If y’all were quick, this should only take a few more minutes.

“This is probably a good time to remind you both that I’ve never used a bow for hunting or anything like that, so maybe Arthur should handle this one.” You whispered.

“Don’t worry, they’ll scatter once Arthur shoots. We’ll have to track them a bit further. Shouldn’t take long, though.” You were crouched down in between the two of them, Arthur was lining up his shot. “Aim for the neck.” It was only a moment later that you a quick, air splitting sound. The buck fell to the ground. The rest of the deer, having heard him collapse, scattered themselves about just as Charles said they would. “Okay, go ahead and haul that one. James and I will keep going to save us a few minutes.”

“You got it.” He sighed, standing upright and walking over to the now dead animal after handing you the bow with a few arrows in its quiver. Now separated, you and Charles continued to skulk about. Most of them ran upstream, so that was your best guess on where to go. Luckily, Charles was still leading, and you were satisfied to see he took the same direction you were taking. A doe was in the distance, you could already see her heavy breathing from running when Charles had you stop.

“Okay, draw your bow.” You slid the arrow weakly into place. “Don’t over extend the string, but don’t be too free with it either.” You tried to do what he said, Your dominant hand held the arrow in place, the other gripped the wooden curve. You drew back. “A little more.”

“Like this?” You corrected yourself.

“Yes, but don’t fire yet.” His hand reached forward, grasping at the base of the bow just under where yours was located. You let him guide your aim to the side. He stopped moving but kept his position.

“Now?”

“Take a deep breath.” Inhale. “Release when you breathe out.” Exhale.

You let loose. The arrow flew through and made the doe squeal and fall to her side. The rest of the group fled. Leaving the body behind. You mentally high-fived yourself. Hell yeah!

“You did a good job. Come on, it’s time to collect.” Both of you stood, roaming towards the carcass.

“Thank you for your patience.” You replied with a smirk. You’d like to say the sight of something dead was what made you feel sick, but it was the blood. You chose to believe it was the way the color popped against the pure snow. The way it looked like cherry cough syrup or Kool-Aid left a terribly familiar taste at the back of your throat. But you decided not to show hesitation. Weakness will show more of you than any words people can claw from you. The words rang in your head. You pulled the arrow out of its windpipe.

“I’ll carry it back to horses.”

“But your hand-“

“I don’t need one hand to use the other’s arm.” His tone was more relaxed than it had been before, less formal. He hefted the body and carried it over his shoulder. “Come, Arthur’s bringing over the horses.” And he was. Arthur was a little over five yards away. You were surprised by how little time you all spent doing this. With both deer slumped on the back of Charles and Arthur’s horses, you started the ride back to camp. I’m kinda getting the hang of this. It’s kinda like driving a living motorcycle, but it can go slow without cruising.

It seems you spoke too soon, as a sudden howl in the distance caused Silver Dollar to buck you off. Your back hit the ground, Arthur hopped down. He held the reins of his horse to make sure they wouldn’t run off. You hurried to your feet.

“Arthur-“

“I know, I’ll handle it.”

“I’ll lead the horses a little a ways while you deal with them.” Charles took Arthur’s reins and then turned to look at you. “James, you-“ The barking was getting louder, grey spikes of fur were sprinting towards your group. You knew there was no way you could get back on and start moving in time.

“Go on ahead, I’ll be fine!” Besides, this was your field of expertise in one way. Hunting wasn’t your strong-suit, but defense sure as hell was. You darted off to the side, swinging your jacket off, raising the shoulders as far as your arms could reach while running. You let out a loud scream as one approached you, not out of fear, but to make it fear you. It still charged toward you with less ferocity. You managed to kick it in the side and ran, side-stepping your way to Arthur. A shot rang out, one of the three wolves fell over, dead. The other flanked and clamped its maw on Arthur’s arm. His gun fell to the ground. You rolled to grab it.

You pulled the hammer back and fired at the beast the second Arthur was able to force himself free. Pull back, turn. You used your opposite hand to grab your wrist and steady your arm. One last shot pounded just as the wolf you had kicked was about to pounce. Arthur clutched onto his right arm, bloody holes blotting through. You picked up your jacket and shook the snow off before sliding it back on.

“You’re a good shot, boy. I know who’s getting a gun as soon as we get off this damn mountain.” He laughed, ignoring the pain that should be in his arm.

“I make it a habit of having one, so yeah.” You flipped the revolver in your hand, handle facing Arthur. He took it and tipped his hat to you.

“Thank’ya, Mr. West.”

“It’s no trouble. You probably could’ve handled them, you aren’t the damsel type.” Charles trotted back over with Silver Dollar and whatever horse Arthur was riding trailing behind him.

“You two handled that quickly.”

“You mean James handled that quickly. All I went and did was get my arm bit.”

“One outta three ain’t bad.” You retorted.

“Y’know I knew someone who died from getting bit.”

“You’re not gonna die from a little wolf bite, Arthur.” Charles sighed.

“But you don’t know that!” Arthur was surprisingly funny for someone who looks so sad. Then again, it shouldn’t be that shocking to you. Charles snorted but did not give further response. You and Arthur got back on the saddles and began the journey to their camp.

“You’ll be fine as long as that thing didn’t have rabies. Just keep it clean and dry for the time being.”

“They call me Rabid Morgan.” Arthur stared into the distance.

“They say you can see his red eyes from a mile away.” Charles joined.

“Rabid Man Morgan, the shredder of limbs, no matter whomst they belong.” You let a chuckle slip.

“Dutch and Hosea are gonna think you’re dying if they hear all this talk.” His long hair shook in motion with his head.

“All the more reason to keep talkin’ if ya ask me.”

“Well, I’m calling you that from now on. I’m never going to explain what it means.” You warned.

“Perfect.” You had barely noticed how close to the camp you’d gotten. Good conversation makes for easy travel, you supposed. Pearson was the first to greet you at his station.

“Sounds like a bunch of gossiping milkmaids are invading the camp.”

“Never heard of laughter, Mr. Pearson?” You teased. You were aware you were acting a bit too comfortable, but this would give you a good idea of where to draw the line.

“Not that I recall. You bring anything useful for me?” You slid off the side and took initiative of hoisting the doe onto your shoulders. It was heavier than you expected, but you were able to get it into the open area Pearson directed you towards. Albeit, you didn’t do it as gracefully as Charles had or how Arthur was doing it now, but you did it, nonetheless.

“Ever skinned a de-“ Charles was interrupted,

“WEST YOU SACK OF SHIT!” by the obnoxious wailing of a blonde idiot. Micah was stomping his way through the snow, eyes burning into you. You squinted in distrust of the situation. By the time he was two feet from you, you’d expected him to slow down.

“What do you want Mi-“ But he didn’t. He shoved you back, making you hit a cleared part of Pearson’s desk. He pulled you forward by the collar of your jacket and the center of your shirt.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are gettin’ special privileges around here, but ya best watch yerself and how you carry. I got my eye on you.” He was trying to assert his fragile dominance over you.

“I don’t know what you’re on about, dickhead. But if you don’t get your filthy paws off of me in the next two seconds, I’m gonna make sure we have matching bruises.” You wrinkled your nose.

“Micah, put the poor boy down right now!” You heard Dutch’s voice coming closer but didn’t break eye contact with Micah. He threw you further onto the table before turning away from you.

“You seriously trust this runt, Dutch? Look at him. Maggot’s got lies smeared all over his face.”

“And you’ve got brown smeared all over your nose, back up.” You practically vaulted off the table, using your forearm and pressure to Micah’s chest to force him back.

“The god damn kid get’s his own space but not any of the others who been here longer? Here I am having to-“

“Don’t call me kid, ever again. Unless you want a broken neck.” Nothing got to you more than that, especially when someone was using it the way he was. Your stare was enough to pierce skin. Arthur grabbed Micah’s shoulder.

“And I’d thank you kindly to not even try and finish that sentence. We already heard you whine earlier. The way I see it, yer at least two against one right now, and that ain’t even including everyone here that would beat you the first chance they got. I don’t care how tough you think you are, those aren’t good odds. So, I suggest you shut that trap of a mouth you have.” His voice was low, there seemed to be some history behind that response, but you couldn’t think about that too much right now. Micah shook away his touch, pushing past Dutch and Charles, he mumbled something to himself as he stormed off. You could feel the pressure of your jaw clenching and your nails digging into your palm.

You paced about, narrowly avoiding the deer corpses around you. Remember to breathe, Y/N. You can’t pass out again. Control yourself. You’re alright. No point in getting mad over the stupid, you’ll scream all day. You wanted to destroy something. You couldn’t stand people like him, it ripped at your gut like a beast starving for your insides. You took a few deep breaths before pacifying yourself enough to address the men around you.

“Forgive me, gentlemen. That situation was a bit too tense for me to bear.” You tried to resist the urge to pull at your hair, considering it wasn’t your hair.

“You reacted better than most people would, nothing to apologize for.” Arthur was steadfast in watching Micah leave. Dutch stepped forward and held you still with both hands just under the joint of your shoulder. He had to bend down a bit to get at eye level with you.

“He can be rough around the edges, but you’ll get used to him. I can see that fire in your eyes, boy. There ain’t nothing wrong with it, but I’d like you to hold that fire close for a few hours more.” He sounded like Austin, which was simultaneously comforting and nerve-wracking. He traded glances with the two men you had rode back with but staying in the same position. “While you boys were gone, I had some of the others ride out to scour the area, and we’ve struck gold.” He stood up straight, still holding onto you. “The O’Driscolls have a camp a little a ways from here. Mrs. Adler informed me of some of the talk that was happening in her house, and apparently there was word of a train.”

“A train?” You questioned.

“That’s right, young man. We need money.” Doesn’t everybody? “I only send my best men for these jobs, but I wanna see how good you really are, Mr. West.”

“Oh, he’s good. Even Arthur was impressed.” Charles elbowed Arthur’s arm.

“That true, son?”

“I saw him kill two wolves today. Only used a bullet for each. Hit ‘em both right here-“ He tapped the middle of his forehead with index finger. “-so, yeah, I’d wager he’s pretty good.” A grin stretched across Dutch’s face.

“Fantastic, let’s hope your as good at shootin’ O’Driscolls as you are at shootin’ wild animals.” He gave you an affirming pat on the bicep. “Ah hell, who am I kiddin’? They’re the same thing.” He turned to walk out, calling back to all of you before being out of earshot. “Ill see you gentlemen in the morning, we leave at 10 o’clock!” The excitement was clear in his speech.

This place was weird. These people were fucking weird. The more you stayed here, the more convincing these people seemed. What the hell was their deal? They acted like normal people, not like cultists or anything. How did they think it was 1899? It would make sense if they’d been on the mountain for years, but they just got here not too long ago. It gave you a headache just thinking about it. You needed to ask more questions without seeming eager to leave.

“Sorry about Micah, he’s like that with almost everyone.” Charles’s voice broke your thoughts.

“I’m fine. He’s lucky Dutch stepped in. I don’t let anyone push me around.” Anymore.

“You’re on edge. There’s not much to do up here but work. You can help Arthur skin the pelts. Might help distract you.” He suggested, pulling what looked like a hunting knife from his belt. You took it reluctantly, knowing you’d need something to do to keep yourself from losing it. You got down on one knee, waiting to follow Arthur’s lead. Time to talk.

“How far are we from Blackwater?” You pretended to know what that place was.

“Not far enough if you ask me.” Pearson complained. “Then again, we left a lot down there.”

“Like food?” Arthur muttered.

“A comedian as always, Mr. Morgan.” Pearson was not amused.

“What happened to you guys over there?” They were hushed by that question for a second.

“I don’t think any of us are entirely sure.” Charles contemplated for a moment. “But now we’re wanted. Every last one of us. We won’t be able to go back for some time.” His eyes met yours, halting the slide of the blade. “I hope that doesn’t interfere with you staying with us for the time being.” You were sad that you weren’t bothered by this, not in the slightest. People being hunted didn’t even phase you.

“I’d be a hypocrite if I let it.” You sighed, you let your guard slip. “I’ve been on the run since I was 19. This doesn’t change anything.” You immediately caught your mistake. Shit. No, it’s fine. They still don’t know who I am. I’m fine. But something suddenly struck you. How could these people be on the run from the law if they thought it was the 19th century?

“What got you?” Arthur asked. It floored you mentally, no one had ever asked you that question. Mostly because you never told anyone who didn’t already know. It wasn’t something you exactly go around flaunting. Him and Charles could see the alarm in your expression.

“Just…” How do you say it? “I made some bad choices.” You don’t. You hurried to finish the carving, wanting to get out of the conversation as fast as possible. You could tell they wanted to press but, lucky for you, decided against it. You rolled the fur up and hooked the cadaver onto a bare wall next to Arthur’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You kept your head down as you walked away.

This wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. You had to think of a way to get back to the others. Where would you go once you got off the mountain? What would even happen when the others got off? There was no way they could avoid cities. You could hardly believe their entire reality hadn’t broken already. Blackwater had to be a town or something. And they were running from the law. The more you heard and thought, the more it didn’t add up. You got lost in that pensive side of yourself.

Something hit your chest, well, someone. You saw the book fall before the girl. It was the brunette you met earlier, you thought Mary-Beth was her name. She was quiet when she fell initially, but as she leaned forward on her elbows, she let out a grunt of pain. You snapped out of your trance and quickly bent closer to her, holding out your hand.

“I’m so sorry, miss.” She took your hand, the back of hers facing up to the sky. You pulled her up halfway and used your other hand to press the space between her shoulder blades. You did this to avoid pulling her too hard as helped her back to her feet. Once she was balanced, you let go and snatched her book from the snow. Fortunately, it fell cover side down. “I should have been looking where I was going. Are you alright?”

“I’m alright, thank you, Mr. West.” She took the book as you presented it to her. “I should’ve been paying attention too.” Her eyes squinted, inspecting you closely, like she was trying to figure something out.

“Well, I’m still sorry.” Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You took a step back and turned away.

“Wait!” She grabbed your wrist. “Hosea wanted us to let you know Miss Grimshaw set up a space for you.” You looked back at her.

“A space?”

“Yes! He told us about how common it is for people in your condition to episodes, especially in their sleep. So, he had us make something for privacy.” Seems a few of your questions were answered.

“Is that what Micah was upset about earlier?”

“Yes, I’m sorry about him. He doesn’t know when to keep himself in check most of the time.” She pulled you toward the cabin you had been placed in. When you walked in, Bill and Javier were the only ones in the main room. You attention immediately went to what looked like a make shift tent at the right end of the room. It looked like what would happen if you split a tent in half and let it rest against a wall. Or like something a few kids would make, not in terms of quality but rather conceptually. It was very well done by blanket fort standards.

“Wow, Mary-Beth, that looks really nice.” You did appreciate the effort genuinely. You reminded yourself to thank Hosea for saving you some trouble. “How many of you worked on this?”

“It was mostly Tilly, Karen, and I. I wasn’t sure if you were much or a writer, but I left an extra pencil and a few sheets of paper to keep yourself entertained.”

“Thank you so much, this is very nice of all of you to do for me.” You smiled at her. “Be sure to let me know if there’s anything you need, I’d feel bad if I didn’t repay you all in some way.” Your request tickled her fancy.

“You sound kinda like Arthur.”

“That a good thing?”

“Yes, I’d reckon so.” Her expression was tender and thoughtful. “I’ll let the girls know you appreciate our hard work. Hosea said you should rest to not create any more discomfort.” She pivoted back towards the door. “Oh! And be sure to eat something in the morning. No telling when the last time you ate was…Actually, I’ll see if I can drop any off to you when it’s ready.”

“You don’t need to do that, you all have done-“

“Nonsense! I’m surprised you were well enough to go out in the condition Dutch said you were in. ‘Sides, y’all are going out again tomorrow, right?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“But nothing! You go and rest right now, young man!” You couldn’t tell if she was older than you, but she sure didn’t look it. Regardless, you conceded.

“Yes, ma’am.” She left you to your own devices, Javier and Bill were focusing on their own activities. You took it upon yourself to crawl into the makeshift tent. It was wide enough for the cot you woke up on. The blanket making the fake wall and roof was high enough for you to sit on the cot but not much else. It was a good thing that’s all you’d need.

You sat down in the middle, letting the blanket curtain to hide you from everyone else. Taking off your coat and lifting up your shirt, you felt joy well up in your chest, joy mixed with a stiff pain. Even with it barely being able to stay up, it was still painful to keep the fabric wrapped around you. You could feel your skin rejoice as you removed it. Once the manila colored cloth was all unbound and sitting on your lap, you let your shirt fall back down. You decided to hide it under the cot for the time being. You were surprised to find a canteen and the items Mary-Beth had mentioned earlier. Thankfully, the contents of the canteen was water, which you happily swigged. You laid back on the cot. This was the first time you’d gotten conscious alone time.

Okay, time to figure this out. I was shot 6 times. I should be dead. But somehow, I ended up on a mountain in winter. I was trapped in a barn and rescued by these guys who think it’s 1899. What’s weird is that Mrs. Adler didn’t object to that, even though she was introduced to everyone the same night I was. None of this is adding up…

You massaged your temples.

If I’m gonna start thinking crazy, I might as well go all out right now. I’m either dead or I traveled back in time. And either way, I can’t do anything about it. Death is inescapable and time isn’t tangible, it isn’t even real. I’ll have to take this one goal at a time… Damnit!

You wanted to cry. Not because you felt sorry for yourself, but for them. Miguel, Eli, what would they do without you? You knew Austin would be fine, and Gina would have the others for support. But Eli and Miguel relied on you to a certain extent. You were their glue. That’s one of the reasons you never left, even though you should have. You should have left a long time ago. There was no way to tell them you were okay, or at least as okay as you could be.

No! There’s no way that’s the answer. I can’t believe it…not yet. You didn’t allow yourself the indulgence of shedding tears. You had to be strong until you could get back to them. You just had to figure out what was happening. But there was no way you’d be learning anything new from these people. You couldn’t get out of this place without their help. You were a lot of things, but you weren’t a defeatist. Going out without a plan in this kind of temperature was a death sentence if you weren’t already dead. You didn’t want to be stupid and take that kind of risk.

If I play along, I might have a chance.

And that’s all I need.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #arthur morgan #charles smith #javier escuella #lenny summers #sadie adler #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #tilly jackson #mary-beth gaskill #abigail marston #john marston #karen jones #bill williamson #micah bell #micah's a bitch

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mst3kproject · 6 years

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K11: Humanoid Woman – Part I

The original title of this film in the USSR was the Latin Per Aspera ad Astra, which translates roughly to Through Hardships to the Stars. It’s a phrase that has inspired a great deal of art and poetry, some of which I will be reblogging as bonus material. The movie is two hours long, and I’ve never seen it even on MST3K, so I have no idea what to expect. Knitting in hand, snack at fingertips, here goes.

A group of cosmonauts discover an unidentified spacecraft, apparently abandoned. They stop to check it out, and find evidence of an unknown catastrophe that seems to have killed all the creatures on board – except for one, who had time to get into a spacesuit. The crew’s first contact specialist, Sergei Lebedev, takes this survivor back to Earth with him to stay with his family. Niya, as they call her, begins to remember flashes of a polluted and hostile world and of a cruel creator, while the humans discover that she not only has frightening telekinetic powers, there appears to be some kind of control circuit implanted in her brain.

When ambassadors from her home planet of Dessa arrive on Earth, Niya stows away on the ship taking them back to their homeworld. She and the humans arrive to find Dessa almost entirely devoid of life and run by a corporation selling gas masks and bottled air. After some research, the Earthlings discover a way to clean up the planet’s atmosphere, but the CEO of the gas mask company, the greedy and callous Turanchox, will stop at nothing to maintain his stranglehold on Dessa. Niya’s powers, which her creator intended would save the planet, may just be what he needs to destroy her companions. He just needs to find the control circuit.

This is a complex film with a hell of a lot to say and a lot for me to get my analytical teeth into, so I’ve decided to stretch this review out into two pieces. This week I’ll discuss Per Aspera ad Astra as a movie with effects, performances, and so forth, and take a look at its worldbuilding and storytelling. Next week, I will delve into the movie as a piece of Soviet propaganda.

The Russian movies that appeared on MST3K tended to be better than they’re given credit for (probably the really bad Russian movies were never exported to the west in the first place) and Per Aspera ad Astra is not an exception. There are parts of it I absolutely love. The worldbuilding in particular is beautifully done, with small moments used to establish big pictures. When the cosmonauts in the opening scene find a strange vessel in space, they are able to look it up in a catalogue and find no matches for it – this tells us eloquently and with no clunky dialogue that this is a future in which we’ve had contact with multiple civilizations among the stars. The utter everydayness of space travel is established by having a spaceport that looks and sounds just like a modern airport, and makes the audience marvel at the fact that here in the twenty-first century, humans have learned to fly and no longer think anything of it.

The special effects are lovely. They’re not perfect, but they’re good enough, and their purpose is to tell the story rather than to make the audience go, “wow!” The composite shots aren’t great, but the miniatures are nice. Planet Dessa is just a bunch of industrial sites filmed through an orange filter but it gets the idea across. Niya’s powers are edited with abrupt cuts and tight focus, which make them feel jarring and out of place – later, when we see her on Dessa, the edits are smoother because this is where she belongs. The only thing that’s really bad is the octopus alien in the tank, which gets worse the closer we look at it. It looks like a dude with a sheet of latex draped over him, which is of course exactly what it is. A puppet would have been way better. This creature is irrelevant anyway, being nothing but intrusive comic relief – though the scenes with Vasily the cat are actually pretty funny.

The best effect in the movie are the zero-gravity sequences, which are magnificent. They’re the equal of anything in Gravity or Apollo 13, without any computer trickery or the need to film in freefall – instead, they’re done in a neutral buoyancy tank, like the one NASA uses to train astronauts. The ingenious thing is that the only zero gravity environment in the film is on the dead spacecraft from Dessa, which has no power and is full of dust and debris from the explosion, which naturally makes it look smoky and dim… as if it’s all underwater! Something that could have been an obvious trick actually adds to the atmosphere instead.

There’s an interesting escalation of the sci-fi elements in this film. For most of the first half of the movie we’re on the Lebedev family’s estate, which is a peaceful and pastoral place. All the farm work is done by robots, but the only robot we see is the amusingly humanoid one that serves as a butler of sorts, and there’s very little to tell us we’re actually two centuries in the future. Later, the speculative elements increase in importance, as we meet the octopus alien and go back into space, and finally Dessa itself, with its orange sky and its monsters, is something that could only exist in a sci-fi movie. No matter how weird and esoteric this movie gets, it’s all rooted in the ordinary. The fact that we spent so much time with normal people on Earth reminds us that there are normal people everywhere – even on dying planets and ocean worlds of octopus aliens.

Roger Ebert once said of My Big Fat Greek Wedding that everybody in it looked like a real person – that this was not some alternate universe in which Anne Hathaway is considered awkward and nerdy. Per Aspera ad Astra is like that, too. Even characters who are supposed to be attractive, like Sergei’s son Stepan and his friend Selena, are very ordinary-looking by Hollywood standards. Thus they should be: this is a story about normal people doing what their world considers to be normal things. The various crew members on the spacecraft look tired and occasionally bored or frustrated by their duties, as people would when this is just their nine-to-five. The workaday feeling of the people and places, the functionality of the sets and the costumes, remind me of Alien – this world is science fiction to us, but not to the people who live there.

It’s hard to judge performances in a language I do not speak, but I was very impressed by Yelena Metyolkina as Niya. She is physically perfect for the part, with large eyes, fair colouring, and a slim, bony build that make her look a little alien to begin with. Throughout the first part of the movie Niya is almost totally mute, but Metyolkina makes that silence speak volumes: we see that Niya is afraid of her own powers and overwhelmed by the abundance of life all around her on Earth. She imparts her emotions through tiny twitches of her face and body. When we first meet her, she does very little but sit in a chair with her knees tucked up to her chest – as she opens up emotionally, she also opens up physically, permitting herself to move around and take up space. Later, when she is frightened or vulnerable, the curled posture returns.

It’s really remarkable how much her appearance changes when she starts wearing wigs. She still looks odd, but the simple presence of hair softens her quite a bit and you can believe she would blend into a crowd in ways she wouldn’t with the buzz cut that is apparently natural to her. Even with the wig on, though, Metyolkina manages to include moments that remind us Niya is not an earthling and will never quite fit into this world, no matter how much she learns. She can act human, but it really is just an act.

The movie also does an excellent job of portraying equality between the sexes. We meet several women and all of them are respected as the intellectual equals of the men. Dr. Ivanova is an authority in her field and while Sergei argues with her about how Niya should be treated, he bows to her insistence on security features for his home, and allows her to study Niya’s brain and the cybernetics in it. Only once does he say something disrespectful, and she immediately calls him on it and makes him apologize. Sergei’s mother is an obstetrician, also well-regarded and with her services in high demand. Stepan’s friend Selena is a bit of an annoyance with her crush on him, and says some insensitive things to Niya, but she is not the empty-headed ditz cliché would demand. The only place where there’s an obvious inequality is in the all-male spaceship crews.

On all these many levels, Per Aspera ad Astra is an absolutely beautiful, well-made, and thoroughly enjoyable film. I admit that I probably think it’s better than it is because I’m comparing it to all the many bad movies I watch, but I was absolutely enthralled by the visuals, the story, and the complex and conflicted character of Niya. I think this is most likely why MST3K never re-visited Humanoid Woman the way they did some of the other KTMA films. There’s just not that much to make fun of.

At least, not until we get into the meaning of this story. Unfortunately, when that happens Per Aspera ad Astra starts to get really preachy – like, Avatar levels of preachy. Stay tuned for next week, when I will attempt to unpack the Soviet side of Cold War Propaganda. It’s just as annoying as the American one, even when it looks prettier.

#mst3k #reviews #humanoid woman #80s #russofinnish coproduction

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singulari-taee · 7 years

Text

The Danger in Duality | 02

BTS X Reader

CW: Violence

“You and your seven squad members must take on the struggles of being world-class assassins while also living as full-time college students.”

When you reached the second floor, you banged your fist against the door of the apartment.

It cracked open, out peeking Yoongi with a bored expression, “May I help you?”

“Well you can start by letting me in,” you said.

He seemed to be thinking about it, but the pensive look disappeared almost immediately, “Nah, you can stay outside.”

He tried to close the door but you caught it with your shoulder and forced it open, stumbling in, “Did you seriously think that would work?”

“No, but it was worth a try.”

You and Yoongi didn’t actually hate each other, but it wasn’t always that way. Years back in your training days, the hostility came from competitiveness. You both were The Academy’s hand-to-hand combat prodigies, excelling in everything from martial arts to knife work. The rankings were always close between the two of you, and you both tried your hardest to outdo the other to impress instructors. You couldn’t stand his quiet arrogance, and he your carefree flare. Though the hard feelings had to be put aside when you were assigned to the same squad. It was kind of ironic, because you didn’t talk at all before in The Academy, opting for cold stares and hard hits whereas now you couldn’t stop coming for each other’s throats.

Your current hostility came out more as a habit since you really didn’t know how to co-exist any other way.

The apartment was spacious and simply decorated. It looked like any other home for 20 something year old males, except for the weapons spread out on every flat surface. Jungkook sat at the dining room table, cleaning one of his guns as he talked to Jimin. Taehyung was standing in the kitchen eating a sandwich when he looked up and saw you walk in.

“Hey, ______!” he called through a mouthful of bread, coming over to hug you like he hadn’t just seen you hours ago, “How was your workout?”

“I’ve had better but it was alright. Thanks for asking,” you reached up and ran your fingers through his messy hair.

He was like the little brother you never had, and he normally didn’t give you a headache like the rest. Or when he did, it didn’t last long.

“See? Why can’t you be more like Tae?” you asked Yoongi.

He stared at you blankly, sending a look that said ‘Don’t insult my intelligence like that.’

“Okay everybody, _______’s here. Let’s hurry up and get this mission review done before we get our next assignment,” Namjoon called from his place on the sofa next to Hoseok and Seokjin.

Everyone walked over, taking their seats on the cushions and floor to get a good look at the oldest’s computer screen.

“Let’s start off with Joon, how many kills did you get last night?” Seokjin asked.

“3.” he replied.

“Yoongi?”

“4.”

Hoseok?”

“4.”

“Jimin?”

“5.”

“Tae?”

“3.”

“Jungkook?”

“7.”

“_______?”

“6.”

Seokjin’s fingers worked on the keys as he plugged the numbers into the database log, “Okay that’s 32.”

“Those are slightly above average numbers, not counting whoever else was still alive when the bomb went off,” Namjoon added, “Good job everyone.”

All the information Seokjin put into his computer went straight to The Academy to be reviewed. The model itself wasn’t even on the market, handcrafted for this specific job. The only downside was having to get it checked for viruses and hackers every other day, which was a pain in the ass when he had assignments due.

“Oh crap,” Seokjin began, “_______, the database is saying that you just made your 300th recorded kill last night. And most of them were without long distance weapons.”

“Wait really?” you got up to get a closer look at the screen, still not believing the number next to your name, “Holy shit.”

The boys broke into cheers, shaking your shoulders and patting you on the back.

“Hey I knew you were the best fighter for a reason, congrats!” Hoseok said.

“That’s up for debate,” Yoongi muttered, wincing when he was elbowed by the other boy, “Congratulations though, I guess.”

The Academy had assembled your squad carefully, trying to create the perfect balance of skills and qualities for the group. It was just by chance you were the only girl, as squads weren’t made with gender in mind but with the thought for the best product. There was another squad The Academy had created with all girls and one boy a few years back, but rumor had it they disassembled because it had gotten too messy.

“I heard that you get a big pay raise when you hit 300, too,” Taehyung sighed, “Lucky.”

“It’s true, I remember when I made my 300th kill...and my 350th...and--” Jungkook said.

“Okay we get it you’re more of a serial killer than the rest of us, let’s get this new assignment dammit,” Yoongi interrupted.

When the clock had hit the hour, everyone went into a frenzy, fidgeting and smoothing down their clothes before the computer screen was taken up with the face of an older clean shaven man. His suit was freshly pressed, and from the background it was evident that he was sitting in his elaborate office. Though they got new assignments often, there was still a sense of nervousness whenever his face appeared.

“Good evening, all,” he said, voice in that classic boom they knew well, “How is everyone doing?”

“Fine, Mr. Kim,” you replied in unison.

“Well, from looking at the latest mission review I can see that last night was overall very successful. Completing a mission like that in under 45 minutes is impressive. Though, I have some questions about this…” he began.

“Oh no,” Seokjin said under his breath.

Images of the explosions flashed across the screen, the entire picture filled with smoke clouds and falling debris. Everyone sat there quiet a moment, looking away from the camera and at the walls to avoid his pointed gaze. Even when not in the same room he had a presence.

“Grandson, care to explain?” he asked.

Namjoon gulped.

Mr. Kim started off as simply a rich man with a vision of a better world, wanting to right the wrongs in society. But after growing tired of the constant misdeeds, he decided to take things into his own hands. He had all the connections, respect, power, and money a man could wish for, and with this clout he created his own empire of young vigilantes.

And as his grandson, Namjoon was the first. He wasn’t some wild child with a criminal record like his peers, but being related to the man that started it all was all he needed to become a leader. And even if he wasn’t the best shooter of fighter, Mr. Kim was sure Namjoon would be the best leader he could be.

“Um, well, about that, grandfath—,” he began awkwardly.

“It was my fault,” Seokjin sighed, “I set off the bombs.”

Mr. Kim’s eyebrows rose, “Ah, Seokjin, I should have known. You’re aware that our goal is to be discreet, so why set off two bombs on the edge of the city?”

“It was our only option, sir. Everyone inside was getting surrounded and there were too many close calls, so I took it upon myself. I should have been more careful,” he replied.

He pondered it for a while, looking pensively with his hands clasped on his desk, “Well you’re all extremely fortunate that all evidence that you were there got lost in the fire.”

“Told you,” Namjoon whispered to you.

“Academy representatives went to the scene before the police arrived and made it look like a gas leak, so you’re in the clear. No need to worry this time, but be more careful in the future,” Mr. Kim said.

“Yes, sir,” Seokjin bowed.

“Well enough of that, the past is the past, don’t harp on it for too long. I need you with a clear conscience for this next assignment,” he began, “Tomorrow night a group of politicians from around the country will be hosting a fundraising gala. The money made from this event is supposed to go towards new books and programs for public schools, but just like all the other money they’ve raised it will undoubtedly go back in their pockets. These 8 men,” he said, bringing up their photos on the screen. Their smiles were a bit too wide to be genuine, and you could almost smell the greed through their tailored suits and pressed lapels, “have also stolen from impoverished areas and taxpayers for the past ten years without a conviction and it’s time for their justice to be served.”

You all scooted closer to the computer, taking in the words and memorizing their faces.

“For this mission, we will need three of you to be active on the inside. Two of you will act as attendees and one will pose as a server to the politicians’ table. For the server, we have chosen Hoseok since you are the best at disguise and blending into scenes. We will send you drugs to put in their drinks to decrease motor skills.”

Hoseok nodded.

“This is where the next two come into play. For the attendees, we have chosen Jimin and ______ to act as a couple interested in donating to the programs since you both have the most believable chemistry. Once Hoseok gets them intoxicated, you two will need to lure them away from the crowd and get the job done.”

You nodded, and out your peripheral you could see Jimin smirking.

“Jungkook, and Taehyung, I will need you two on sniper duty in case something goes wrong. Namjoon and Yoongi you two will do clean up on the ground floor as needed. Seokjin you will need to tell those inside what you see through security cameras and warn them of danger. As you all know by now, bodyguards are not off limits. Jimin and ______ your tuxedo and dress will be coming soon, and we’ll be sending a driver to come pick you up for the event. Keep a look out because I’ll be forwarding more information to prepare you all in a couple hours. Best of luck.”

Mr. Kim nodded, and with his final words disconnected the call.

You all exhaled, relaxing and letting out breath you didn’t know you were even holding. It wasn’t that you feared your boss, your rigidness around him came from a place of reverence. It was just something about not completing your missions or even looking the least bit disrespectful that scared you more than anything since he had done so much for you all.

Death wasn’t your biggest fear, disappointment was.

“So,” Jimin said. He was sitting on the floor in front of you, and he draped his arm on your leg, “We’re going to be a couple, huh?”

“Acting like a couple. Key word acting.”

“I can dream can’t I?” he asked.

“As long as you keep your dreams and hands to yourself then sure,” you said, picking up his arm gingerly and dropping it.

“No promises,” you heard him sigh. All of the boys that had been sitting on the sofa got up and dispersed around the apartment, leaving you alone on the seat. You laid out flat across it and Jimin rose from the floor and sat on the other end, putting your feet in his lap, “Are you nervous about this mission at all?”

You shrugged, flipping through the channels on the television, “Not more than usual. You?”

“Not really. I’m kind of excited, actually. We get to schmooze in a room full of rich people, eat their food, drink their expensive alcohol, and look good doing it. It should be fun,” his fingers played absentmindedly with the hem of your leggings, and you let him.

Yoongi came from out the back, looking at you and Jimin on the sofa in clear annoyance, “Jungkook and Taehyung just left, why are you two moochers still here? Watching my TV on my sofa, you don’t pay bills around here.”

“Neither do you!” you shouted.

Yoongi paused, looking like he was searching for a comeback and falling short, “Fuck you.”

You snickered and Jimin reached over and gave you a high-five.

“I have a solution,” he said, coming out of the kitchen with a glass of water, “Why don’t you two pick another place to flirt, you’ll have more privacy and you’ll both out of my house. Sounds like a winner to me—“

You chucked a pillow at his head and he ducked skillfully, making it hit the wall behind him. The water in the glass barely moved, “Shut up.”

“That’s just another example of why my aim has always been better.”

“Get your kills up before you try to insult my aim, moron. How many are you at? 270? 275?”

He looked like he was swallowing back his words, fist balling up at his side, “If you’re not gone by the time I’m done with my nap you’re both getting a 9 millimeter to the ass.”

Like a ghost, Yoongi glided out of the room, mumbling under his breath. You heard his bedroom door slam shut.

“Sometimes I think you two really do still hate each other,” Jimin said.

“No, it's just entertaining to get him all riled up.”

“You’re the only one that would dare talk to him like that, though. If it was any of us,” he shivered, “I can’t even imagine. Probably because you’re the only one that has the slightest chance at kicking his ass.”

“He knows I could. I’ve done it before years ago, and I’d gladly do it again,” you said.

“I HEARD THAT GET OUT!” Yoongi boomed from the back of the apartment, a nearby vase trembled at the sound. You could have sworn you heard a gun cock from his room. You and Jimin jumped off the sofa and sped walked towards the door.

You figured you had overstayed your welcome this time.

___________________

You had been awakened by the sound of knocking at your front door, a little too early for a Saturday. You trudged over, only to open it and find 2 men in suits standing before you with a large box. Nodding curtly, they left it in your hands and drove off in an inconspicuous black car identical to all other Academy vehicles. You stood there confused and half-asleep for a while until you remembered you would be getting your dress that day.

When you brought it back to your room and opened the box you almost laughed. Though you were aware that it was a formal event, this seemed a bit excessive.

“Really?”

You sat on your bed, staring at the package for hours, the whole time debating calling Mr. Kim yourself just to ask if this is what he had really meant to send. When it was time to get ready, putting the thing on took 10 minutes alone, a clear indication in your mind that you shouldn’t be wearing it.

After pinning your hair up, you appraised your reflection in the mirror, taking in the wide, floor length red ball gown adorning your body. It was the kind you would see in fairy tales written about distressed princesses waiting for their handsome prince. Just standing there, you looked like you were about to lose your glass slipper and not raise your kill numbers.

But maybe that was the point.

At nine o’clock, you locked your apartment door behind you. You had heard Luna’s shower start a few seconds earlier and knew you were in the clear. You didn’t even want to think about how hard it would be to explain your outfit if she ever saw you.

When you rounded the corner, you saw a limousine parked out front, just as they said it would be. Jimin leaned against the door, arms folded looking ridiculously debonair in his tuxedo. His hair was parted on the side, longer strands falling in his face giving him another layer of dapperness you weren’t used to. When he heard your footsteps he looked up, eyes widening as he adjusted his stance.

“Too much?” you asked.

“No, not at all...you look beautiful,” he said earnestly, “I’m just honored to be the first one to see you.”

You felt a smile creep up on your lips, your insecurities beginning to melt away at the words. Times like these made you remember why Jimin was known for his charm. He was very sweet when he wanted to be, and if you didn’t know him like the back of your hand you would be a blushing mess right now.

“Thanks, you clean up well, too,” you said. He opened the door for you, letting you in first before climbing in behind you. You noticed that his bow-tie and the handkerchief in his pocket were the same color as your dress.

The Academy sure was being thorough with this couple concept.

“The only downside to that dress is how poufy it is, I know if it didn’t have all those layers I’d have an amazing view right now,” he said.

There was the Jimin you knew.

The ride over was quick, and you both took in the lights of the lavish downtown area filled with office buildings and skyscrapers through the windows. When you finally came to a halt, the driver got out to open your door. The both of you exited the limousine, staring up at the ritzy hotel you had been brought to. There was a red carpet leading to the front door, empty since you two had arrived late.

Jimin had his arm extended out to you, an invitation to link yours through his, “Let’s get it done.”

When you walked through the doors you were led to a large ballroom filled with tables and a dance floor, a band playing elevator music on the side. The two of you were so busy scoping out the space that you almost didn’t notice how quiet it got when you came into view. Nearly all eyes were glued to the two of you as you made your way inside, side conversations calming down to near whispers.

“So much for being discreet,” you said in a low voice.

“This is going to be interesting,” he said.

You walked over to a corner, still aware of the quick glances thrown in your direction. Everyone there seemed to drip wealth and prosperity, and for tonight you and Jimin actually looked like you belonged. The other women wore gowns too, but theirs looked incredibly plain and lackluster next to yours. From their upturned noses, it was obvious they felt the same way.

“Jimin, _____, are you two inside yet?” Namjoon asked through the tiny earpiece you had hidden under your hair.

“Yeah just made it, you?” Jimin replied into his own, turning to make it look like he was speaking to you.

“Seokjin just dropped us off and Yoongi and I are hiding in the back of the hotel now. We would have been here earlier but unlike you we didn’t have a limousine to pick us up,” he said, “Jungkook and Taehyung are you at your post?”

“We’re climbing the side of a nearby building east of the hotel right now. We’re almost on the roof,” Jungkook replied. You could hear the strain in his tone, “TAE, WHAT THE FUCK?”

You winced, his voice piercing your eardrums, “Jungkook! Inside voice, please,” you whispered angrily.

“Taehyung just dropped one of our guns and we’re 20 floors up! It almost landed on my head!”

“Sorry I lost my grip!” Taehyung responded from above Jungkook, “We’ll just get it when we go back down!”

“It’s probably totaled now! We’re dangling 200 feet above concrete!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“That doesn’t matter—“

“Stop talking,” you could hear Yoongi say in a dry, icy voice that sent a shiver up even your spine.

“Sorry,” Jungkook and Taehyung responded in unison.

“Hoseok, where are you?” Namjoon asked.

“Just made it to the ballroom,” he responded.

You looked around and finally spotted him on the opposite side of the room. He noticed you and made his way over, eyes wide for exaggerated effect as he looked you up and down.

“Wow, I thought I would have trouble finding you but you were hard to miss,” Hoseok told you, “You look amazing.”

“Why, thank you,” Jimin replied obnoxiously, making you and Hoseok roll your eyes.

“Thanks,” you said, “Um, what’s up with your…uniform?”

The server’s uniform Hoseok wore was very ill-fitting, and looked like it belonged to someone 4 sizes bigger than him. He tried his best by tucking in the extra fabric and buckling his belt tight but It did little to help.

He sighed, “The academy didn’t send me anything to wear so I had to steal it from another server. I was running late so I couldn’t be picky with who’s I took.”

“Where are they now?” Jimin asked.

“Locked in a broom closet upstairs,” he replied, “Don’t worry I knocked him out cold. He should wake up soon…maybe sometime tomorrow.”

“Hey, I’ve got an eye on our targets,” you said, nodding behind the two boys. They turned around to see the group of politicians, all seated at a table together. They were busy talking with other patrons of the event that had come up to them, shaking their hands and smiling.

“They’re all sitting together so that means we won’t have to round them all up later,” Jimin noted, “That makes our job easier.”

“Okay, I’ll let you two go work your magic. See you in a few,” Hoseok, said turning away and disappearing in the crowd.

You took Jimin’s arm again and walked towards the table with smiles plastered on your faces.

“I’ll take the lead on this one,” he said.

You stood behind the line of people waiting to talk to them, and when the bodies cleared out you two stepped forward. While a few were still speaking with other attendees, the rest’s attention automatically went to you two. From their eyes alone you could tell they were trying to figure you out, scanning their memories of whether they had seen you before. Though, the whole while their plastic smiles never left their faces.

Jimin extended his hand to the man nearest to him, “Hello sir, I’m Kim Namjoon.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kim,” the man said, eyes unwavering.

“Why did you have to use my name as an alias?” Namjoon asked through the ear piece.

“It’s not like the man’s going to live much longer for it to matter,” Yoongi said.

“No, the pleasure is all mine,” Jimin said, going down the line to shake the awaiting hands.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You turned to see a man that looked old enough to be your father eyeing you, biting his lower lip in a way that made your skin crawl. His nose stuck out like a beak, and you remember him distinctly from the pictures you were sent last night.

You extended your hand with a tight smile, “Alex.”

It was the first name of one of your old academy instructors, and for some reason the first to come to mind.

He held on to your hand a lot longer than necessary, and you brought it back to your side as soon as he released it.

“You look fabulous I must say,” one of the politicians piped up, “What gives us the honor of having you here this evening?”

“We’re such huge fans of the work you all have been doing in the communities. We just had to meet the men responsible for it all for ourselves,” Jimin grinned.

“You’re making it hard for us to be humble,” one with a large belly laughed, “Thank you, son. We appreciate it.”

The creepy one looked between the two of you, “I see you came together, are you a couple? Dating?”

“We’re newlyweds actually,” Jimin responded, putting his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to his side. Leave it to him to take it farther than necessary.

Jimin made his way around the table, striking up conversations with every individual man, even the bodyguards that surrounded them. It was amazing to watch him honestly, he moved around the space so seamlessly, like poetry in motion. He smiled at the right times and laughed at all their terrible jokes, looking so invested in all the conversations he had. He laid a hand on their shoulders as they spoke, initiating contact to relax them. He was the definition of a people person if you had ever seen one. With all the flattery, charm, and bullshitting you just knew he had them wrapped around his finger within minutes.

“You know what, why don’t you two come have a seat here with us for a bit?” a man with huge ears asked. “Pull up a chair, I like you kids.”

The creep grabbed two seats from a nearby table, placing them next to him. Jimin took the seat farthest from him, unaware, making you sit right next to the man.

“So how long have you two been married?” he asked.

“Almost a year now,” you responded. You noticed he was leaning a bit too close to you.

“Wow, young love can be beautiful thing…while it lasts. I just got out of a marriage myself just so you know,” he said matter of factly.

“Oh, so I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not, I’m finally a free man. Single and ready to get back on the market,” he laughed. He was looking so intently on your face it made you uncomfortable.

“So tell me more about these programs you’ll be creating,” Jimin said to the table, “They sound really incredible.”

“Well, with the money raised tonight, we hope to get better books and start programs that will increase creativity in schools,” the one with the belly said.

“You know, music, visual arts, dance, all of that good stuff. The children are our future and we have to harness and nurture that energy and drive it in a positive direction,” another man with a long salt and peppered beard added.

“Just out of curiosity, how much money do you think it will take to make these programs happen?” you asked.

The men looked at each other, “Roughly a couple million I’d say. I think with the money raised by the end of tonight we’ll be near our goal,” another man with a round, almost childlike face responded.

“It’s definitely going to a good place,” the creep next to you said, making the rest chuckle and nod knowingly.

You and Jimin glanced at each other, not believing their audacity. The deeper you got into the conversation the more you couldn’t wait to do what you had come for.

Suddenly Hoseok appeared at your table, holding a tray of laced drinks in one hand with a smile, “Could I interest any of you in a drink this evening?”

“Sure, why not,” the one with the ears said. Hoseok placed it on the table before him. In social settings like this, if one decides to drink the others will follow to not seem uptight, feeling as if they have to keep up. Surely enough, the rest called Hoseok over to serve them. You watched as they all took sips, completely unaware of the harsh reality they would be facing soon.

“Wow, this is strong,” the one with the beard winced, “What’s in this?”

“It doesn’t matter, the less I can remember of this shit show tomorrow the better,” the one with the round face muttered, “Thanks kid, buy you something nice,” he reached into his wallet and placed a wad of money in Hoseok’s pocket.

Hoseok was unsure if he should accept the tip but thanked him anyways. He was about to walk away from the table when the creep called him back.

“Boy, why didn’t you offer them some?” he asked, motioning to you and Jimin. Hoseok still had a few more laced glasses on his tray just in case, and he stood there like a deer in the headlights while he racked his brain for a response.

“Uhh—“

“My wife is actually expecting so she can’t drink,” Jimin said out of the clear blue. You whipped your head to him, your façade almost slipping entirely at the lie. He rubbed his hands over your flat belly, “And I would feel guilty if I drank without her.”

You smiled painfully as the table erupted in congratulations.

“How wonderful! How far along are you?” the man with the big ears asked.

“9 weeks,” you said, pulling the number out of your ass.

“I remember when my first son was born, most beautiful moment in my life,” one said, opening the flood gates for the rest to talk about their own children.

Hoseok looked like he was trying to hold in a laugh, sending a sorry expression in your direction as he slowly backed away.

The entire time you spoke with the men about your fake pregnancy you cursed Jimin in your head.

“I’m so bored,” Taehyung whined after a few minutes, gun at the ready as he sat atop the building, “Can you just send someone out so we’ll have something to shoot?”

“I’d even accept a bellhop at this point,” Jungkook said, “I’m sure we could pull up something on him to justify it. Tax evasion, unpaid debts, old parking tickets, anything.”

“Stop complaining, at least you two are outside. I’m stuck in this car alone watching old people talk until this mission is over. You two brats don’t know what boring is,” Seokjin said.

“Well at least you have your computer to entertain you. I don’t know, keep yourself busy, watch some porn or something.”

“Oh my God what’s wrong with you?” Seokjin asked in exasperation, “I’m not going to use this computer for that filth...that’s what the library’s computer lab is for.”

Jimin burst out laughing, luckily it was perfectly timed with one of the men’s jokes.

You almost choked on the bite of food you had just been served.

The hand Jimin had put on your stomach was now sliding down your dress, pushing up the layers with a straight face as he ate.

You grabbed his hand under the table and twisted it backwards, making him wince, “What did I say about keeping your hands to yourself?” you whispered.

“Just getting into character, dear wife of mine,” he smirked.

The both of you watched the men eat with curiosity.

“When do you think the drugs will kick in?” he asked.

“I don’t know they seem pretty normal right now. I’m getting antsy it needs to hurry up and take effect—“

As soon as the words left your mouth, one of the men dropped their forks on the plate, the utensil clattering loudly and falling on the floor.

He laughed, shaking his head, “Whoops, I don’t know what happened there.”

“I’m so exhausted, can we cut this thing short already?” another said. He looked like he was having trouble keeping his head up.

One started to reach for his glass, moving in slow motion towards it. The bodyguard behind him had to reach it to his shaky hands.

“You know what, Alex?” the creep next to you whispered, his gaze seemed a bit far away, and his words started to slur slightly, “A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be tied down to only one man. I’ve got money to last 3 lifetimes and I’d love to share. I can help provide whatever you need. Just let me know what I can do for you.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, slightly amused at the nerve of this scumbag, “Actually, I was wondering what I could do for you.”

“Oh, really?” he purred.

“My husband and I were interested in donating to your programs. We’d love to help with your vision.”

He looked slightly disappointed, but the men at the table heard your announcement and got new energy, “Oh really? That would be terrific!”

“We were hoping we could discuss this further, maybe in somewhere more private?” Jimin said.

“Of course, anything for my favorite couple. Let’s move this party to somewhere we can really talk,” they began to push their chairs out, gripping the table to steady themselves. The four guards followed closely behind as you all made your way out of the large ballroom.

The men lead the way, holding each other’s shoulders and laughing boisterously down the hallway.

You took note of the security cameras lining the way. If anyone wanted to track the politicians’ whereabouts after they left the gala, all they would have to do is look back at the footage. You hoped Seokjin noticed them too and was already dealing with it.

They lead you to a room down the hall. It was filled with comfortable chairs and sofas, built for cocktails and casual conversation. They eight of them sat on one side and you and Jimin sat across from them, the bodyguards standing in a corner not far away.

“I think I drank too much, I’m barely able to see straight,” the one with the beard said.

“You’re not alone, I feel like I just had ten shots and not a glass of wine,” the one with the large ears added.

“So, about those donations…how much are you thinking, Mr. and Mrs. KIm?” the one with the round face asked.

“Before I name a number I’d just like to ask you all another question just to be sure,” you began, “Where will all of the money earned tonight go?”

“We’ve already discussed this,’ he laughed, “To textbooks and new school programs of course.”

“Oh really? Are you sure it’s not going towards building you all beach houses like the funds from last year’s gala?” you asked, legs crossed.

The room was filled with a pregnant silence. The men exchanged nervous glances.

“I’m sorry?” asked a man with bushy eyebrows.

“Sweetheart, what are you getting on about?” the creep drawled.

“Do you all enjoy stealing from the poor?“ Jimin asked, “If I can remember correctly, I’m pretty sure even your guards here got a cut of the money you took.”

“Look, I don’t know if you’re with the press or what the hell is going on here but you two need to leave now. How dare you question our integrity,” one slurred, “Escort them out!” he said to the guards.

The both of you stood up. Jimin began to walk towards the approaching men but you stuck your hand out, “I’ve got it.”

Before the muscled guards could react, you lifted your dress, exposing the garter on your thigh filled with weapons. You pulled out two small knives and threw them, making them land squarely in the nearest two’s necks. One collapsed to the floor immediately, the other trying to pull out the object as he stumbled into a wall, gurgled breaths escaping his mouth as he fell seconds later.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

The room echoed with screams as the politicians stumbled over each other trying to get up. You walked towards the next guard, never breaking your stride as you snapped his neck and moved to the next. The final ran to tackle you, but before he could lay a hand on your body you grabbed him by his collar, using his momentum to fling him into a nearby coffee table. The glass shattered on impact.

Their vision fuzzy, the eight men tried their best to make their way to the exit, but Jimin was already standing in front of the door.

“Sorry, but karma’s a real bitch fellas,” he said, pulling out a blade from the inside of his jacket. While most were paralyzed with fear, Jimin went down the line, doing his damage one by one. Whenever they tried to escape he pulled them back by their hair. He angled the knife weirdly on one, and blood sprayed onto your dress.

Two that hadn’t drunk as much as the rest ran while you and Jimin were busy and climbed out an open window. They wobbled away, careening through the garden and beyond the hotel.

“Shit,” you said, “Jungkook and Taehyung, we’ve got a present for you. We lost two and they’re running in your direction now.”

They perked up immediately, looking through their scopes as they found the two running wildly towards them, “Got it!”

The roommates pulled the triggers of their rifles at the same time. The two bullets flew and pierced each man’s skull easily, the sound ringing through the night air. They flopped onto the grass, unmoving.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jimin said.

You pulled your knives from the bodyguards and took off your shoes. The both of you stepped out the window and ran away from the scene, puffy ball gown and all.

You saw Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok come out the darkness and drag the two bodies away from the middle of the grass and into some nearby hedges. They followed you soon after.

“Seokjin, where are you we need to go,” Jimin breathed.

“Coming, just keep running straight!”

Moments later the SUV pulled up onto the curb and the five of you piled inside. He barely let everyone sit down before he hit the gas and drove to get the two youngest.

“Jin, there were a few cameras on our way to the room, could you erase the footage before someone checks it?” you asked from your seat.

“I’m already ahead of you, I disabled them all as soon as you left the ballroom.”

The tires skidded to a halt, and Jungkook and Taehyung came sliding down their rope from the top of the building and jumped into the car.

While Jungkook sat in his seat, he looked at something in his hands pitifully.

“What’s that?” Namjoon asked.

Jungkook lifted it to him, showing the several crumpled pieces of the pistol Taehyung had dropped earlier.

“Don’t worry I think we can piece it back together,” Taehyung assured him. If looks could kill, Jungkook would have sent him to an early grave.

You felt eyes boring into you, and you turned to see Yoongi looking you over with an unreadable expression. His eyebrows were scrunched together as he looked at you with a curious intensity you had never seen before.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you staring at me like that?”

“It’s just weird seeing you not look like your normal troll self, that’s all,” he responded.

“Go to hell, Yoongi,” you said.

“See you there,” he retorted.

You rolled your eyes and went back to talking to Hoseok. Yoongi tried to look out his window, but for some reason his attention kept going back to you the entire ride back home.

___________________

“Namjoon?” Taehyung whispered, “Can you help me solve this problem?”

You were sitting in your advanced calculus class, and this was the fourth time he had asked the leader for help in the last 20 minutes.

“If I keep solving these for you how are you supposed to learn?” he asked.

“This is the last time I promise!”

“Shhh, I’m trying to listen to the lecture!” Seokjin snapped.

Namjoon sighed and took Taehyung’s paper, scribbling out an answer seconds later, “There. Now please pay attention.”

The professor drawled, and Taehyung did impersonations of him under his breath. It was spot on, and despite trying your best you couldn’t hold in your silent laughter. Sitting with them wasn’t the best idea, because even though your grade in the class was fine now, it wouldn’t be if they kept distracting you like this.

“Just look at her,” a girl behind you said in a low voice, “always flirting with them.”

“I told you she was a hoe! She’s always with that big group of boys. I’ve literally never seen her with a girl.”

You winced, resisting the urge to turn around and confront the girls yourself. Conversations like these were becoming the norm for you now. It seemed like every other day you would either overhear someone talk about your relationship with the boys in your squad, or notice the strange looks you all got when you walked around. Sure, you understood how unusual it may look to some when you were together, especially when Jimin made crude jokes or had his arm around you, but that didn’t make times like these any less annoying. You thought people would have learned to mind their own business in college but apparently criticism came in all ages.

“I bet she gets passed around like a blunt at a frat party,” one girl said.

�� You tried to drown out their voices and focus on the lesson before you, but it was getting too hard. You were very unconfrontational outside of missions, but these girls were making you remember that you could literally kill them with your bare hands in 2 seconds flat if you wanted to.

You’ve counted

Your fist clenched around your pencil and you had unknowingly stopped writing all together.

The boys watched you weirdly.

Taehyung leaned over, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,”

They stopped and zoned in on the conversations behind you, faces contorting the longer they listened.

“Hey, just ignore them,” Namjoon whispered.

The girls continued on. One broke out laughing, making the professor turn around and stop the lecture.

“Girls, even I don’t think calculus is that funny. Quiet down,” he said.

They apologized, snickering to themselves until class was over.

You packed your bag and stormed out of the room, making the boys jog to catch up to you outside.

“It’s really not a big deal, ______,” Taehyung insisted.

“I’m actually with ______ on this one, they act like boys and girls can’t have a platonic friendship,” Seokjin said.

You shoved the door to the library open and walked to where the other boys were sitting, writing papers and finishing online quizzes. They saw you four approaching and noticed the flat look on your face.

“Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” Yoongi asked.

“Some girls in class were being jerks that’s all,” Namjoon said.

“That’s a nice way of saying judgmental asses,” you said.

“Long story short, they were calling _____ a slut because she hangs around us so much,” Seokjin explained.

“They just wish they had friends like us, that’s all,” Hoseok assured you.

“It’s only those girls, don’t pay attention to them,” Jimin said.

“It’s not just them, Jimin, people talk about us all the time,” you said.

“Really? Never noticed, “ he shrugged.

As you all stood there, 2 boys walked past your section. They pointed at you, snickering to themselves before one spoke.

“Hey, let me get a piece when you guys are done!” he said.

“Yeah, sharing is caring!” the other called. They howled with laughter as they high-fived each other and walked away.

“D-did they really just--?” Seokjin sputtered.

“Oh, you’ve to be kidding me,” you groaned, hiding your face as you sat down. Out of all the encounters, you had never seen a pair so bold.

Jungkook suddenly got up from the table and stalked after the two boys.

“Jungkook, don’t!”

He grabbed them by the back of their shirts, slamming them into a nearby wall.

“Hey man what are you doing!?” one screamed.

“Apologize to my friend over there,” Jungkook said in a dark tone, his jaw taught.

“Dude, we were just kidding!” the other said, legit fear in his eyes.

“I said,” his grip moved from their collars to their throats, lifting them up from the floor several inches. Their hands clawed desperately at Jungkook’s, but they couldn’t move him, “apologize to my friend.”

The two boys looked at each other nervously, and Jungkook’s short patience was already running thin.

“NOW!” he pushed them harder and their heads banged against the wall roughly.

“Sorry! Sorry! We were just joking, we’re sorry! We didn’t mean it, fuck!”

The group ran up behind Jungkook, grabbing his arm to release them but his grip was too strong.

“Jungkook, let them go,” Namjoon said through his teeth. The room had gotten quiet and everyone around was now watching.

After a moment, Jungkook shoved the boys one more time before dropping them in disgust. The seven of you grabbed the youngest by the arm and literally carried him out of the room. The pair was on the floor busy catching their breath when you left.

“Jungkook, you really shouldn’t have done that,” you said, even more stressed now.

“And let them disrespect you? Disrespect us? Fuck that!” he yelled, “I’m getting mad all over again thinking about it. Let me back in there I wasn’t done!”

Yoongi pushed him back, “We don’t need campus security called on you again, calm down.”

Jungkook’s anger issues could be dated back to childhood.

Calling him a school bully was putting it lightly. He would send other kids to the hospital after fighting for the smallest reasons, and when he got old enough he was sent to correctional facilities and counselors in the hopes of getting him on the right track. Though, it did little to help, and his angry streaks continued. The academy approached him after he got expelled from his 4th elementary school, and the rest was history. They pointed his anger in a different direction, and while most would think giving a kid like that a gun was a bad idea, it calmed him in the moment and he became the best shooter The Academy has ever seen.

You all walked back to the four oldest’s apartment and sat down. Your nerves were still shot, memories from class and the library pushing to the forefront. The big apartment felt very suffocating, and you jumped right up and headed back to the front door.

“Leaving so soon?” Seokjin asked from the kitchen, “I was just about to start making dinner.”

“See ya,” Yoongi said, waving at you encouragingly.

“I have to get out of here. I need to go for a run or something, clear my head.”

Whenever there was a lot on your mind, you needed to work it off in some way. Physical exertion was the best way to distract yourself as you had come to learn. And at times where you were like this, you had to just go or else you felt like you would explode.

“It’s dark out now, you shouldn’t be out there alone,” Namjoon said.

“I know but I need to move.”

“We can come with you!” Taehyung insisted, “Namjoon is right, you shouldn’t go alone. It’ll be fun!”

“Would you really?” you asked, face brightening up.

Namjoon internally cursed his leadership instincts. For a second he really wished he hadn’t said anything, then maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation. There weren’t many things Namjoon hated more than running. Especially when he didn’t have to.

“I’m actually not dressed for it, sorry,” he said.

“We’re at home. Your room is literally down the hall, go change,” Hoseok said.

One thing you liked about dressing so casually every day was that you were always ready for whatever at any moment, which became useful at times like this. It was a habit you had learned to pick up at The Academy and hadn’t lost since.

“When was the last time we all worked out together? Come on it’ll be just like old times!” you said.

The boys sighed.

“I’ll be back,” Namjoon said as he trudged to his room to change.

“I’ll actually sit this one out,” Seokjin said, “But dinner will be ready by the time you come back.”

When Namjoon finished, you all left the apartment and walked to the corner.

“Okay, we’ll make the block twice and come back. That’s it,” Namjoon said.

The seven of you started jogging down the empty road, the streetlights the only illumination on your path.

It was entrancing, hearing everyone’s shoes hit the asphalt in a rhythmic pattern. You all began to feel the familiar burn settle in your lungs. You missed times like this honestly. In The Academy you all had to run together every morning at sunrise, a pastime most would rather forget. But some of your best memories were made on those jogs, and you longed for that carefree sense of friendship again.

“Hey, I bet I can beat you to that mailbox over there,” Jimin challenged Hoseok.

“In your dreams. On three. One, two—hey I wasn’t done!”

Jimin had already bolted away, making Hoseok rush to catch up.

You noticed that your shoe had come untied, and you stopped in your tracks to fix it. Most of the group was too focused on the race that they weren’t aware that you weren’t running anymore, and continued down the road.

Yoongi looked behind him and saw you crouched over and circled back.

You looked up at his approaching frame, “Aww thanks for stopping for me.”

He scoffed, “Don’t flatter yourself. I just didn’t want to deal with the trouble of finding you if you got abducted or something.”

You picked up a rock and chucked it at him with the force of a major-league pitcher, but he caught it in his hand effortlessly. If it were anyone else, you knew they would be writhing in pain right now.

You hated his cat-like reflexes.

“Nice try,” he said.

You stood up and ran past him, sticking your tongue out like a child.

He fought back his growing smirk as he jogged to catch up.

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gothmedia · 7 years

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Comic Review: Oh My Goth!

In celebration of his newest album, it’s Voltaire week! Being in the scene for so long, he really is a Jack of all trades. While his music is the one thing everyone tends to gravitate to, he’s also been involved in animation, comics, novel writing, home improvement, and gratuitous cigar smoking. While he does excel in music and animation, the same can’t be said for everything else...

Oh My Goth is... Well, it’s a comic. Inspired by Chick Tracts and wanting to promote his upcoming shows, Voltaire started making small eight page comics to draw in potential fans. Eventually, these small comics would lead to the production of a short series of comics called Oh My Goth! It follows Poshe, an extraterrestrial whose human disguise looks like a particular singer, his robot gorilla sidekick with a TV for a head, a ghost of a tombstone (I had no idea what this was when reading the books.), and a group of over-dramatic goth teens as they go on wacky adventures and comment on how horrible modern (90s) pop culture is while shirking their responsibility of destroying the earth. While this works in theory, it doesn’t really pan out well in reality.

The writing is all over the place. There are condensed, linear plots throughout the books usually involving some sort of sy-fy theme, but the constant jokes usually distract from it. And not just jokes relating to the story, there are jokes being played in the background, midground, and foreground on every page. When everything is trying to grab the reader’s attention at once, nothing really hits. The jokes themselves are a bit... problematic. I know Voltaire’s one of those types of people that will happily announce he’s “not PC”, but there’s a lot of racist, homophobic, or just downright mean jokes. Also a lot of rape and suicide jokes. Whether or not you’re okay with that, a lot of jokes just don’t hit well. Unless you were involved with the subculture at that time, the topical humor hasn’t aged well. No one really cares about the Village People at this point. Kids don’t watch Barney any more and no one’s complaining about ravers in goth clubs. Also, you can tell a Marilyn Manson joke is coming three pages away, so that’s a bit of a let down.

The off-the-wall writing isn’t helped by the art or layout either. The panels overlap and wobble around, sometimes it’s hard to tell what frame you need to read next. The structure does get better in later issues, though. The text is some sort of Medieval-inspired font that is hard to read at times. The art is.. Eh... Different people have different styles, but sometimes it’s just lacking in technical skill. The thought is there, but it’s messed up by poor perspective or layout. Panels tend to be over-crowded with side gags and whatnot, but it’s overwhelming. JtHM had the same idea of having detailed backgrounds with gags, but for the most-part it didn’t overwhelm the characters. The backgrounds in JtHM also tended to be a different line-width from the characters, so it made the characters stand out and pop. Not so much here. In fact, the grey ink-wash that’s used on the backgrounds is also used on the characters, so it just makes everything blend into a muddled mess more. I would have either kept it in full black and white, only shaded the backgrounds, or at least used different tones of grey. Overall, it’s as hard to look at as it is to read.

So, is the comic worth the read? Not really. If you like Voltaire and want more of his work, if you’re a collector, or if you just REALLY want more goth comics, then go for it, but overall it’s not really that spectacular. There’s a lot of comics that did the concepts better. If you want a story about an alien that’s inept at taking over the earth while dealing with modern pop-culture, Invader Zim has a comic series currently running that’s really nice. Want to see ink wash done right? Read Eldritch! Looking for a comic about the subculture with some fantasy elements? Poseur Patrol is unfinished, but a really nice webcomic that I wish I had more of. And while it might not have been the best comic, it did inspire a great song to dance to!

#gothgoth #oh my goth #comic review

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briangroth27 · 6 years

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Hell Fest Review

Hell Fest came out of nowhere for me last fall and wasn’t on my radar at all initially. Once I knew about the premise—a slasher loose in a Halloween theme park—I was in. It turns out that it could’ve been a little more inventive in places and gone further when it was doing new things, but it was definitely a fun thrill ride!

Full Spoilers…

The movie absolutely nailed the atmosphere and feeling of being at a Halloween event like Universal’s Halloween Horror Nights, except when the characters were in the haunted houses: there’s no way the people in line would wait for each group to go through alone. I wish Universal could manage that! haha That said, I agree with some other comments I read online that Hell Fest could’ve used the theme park setting (in particular, the rides) a little more: this environment could’ve lent itself to a wider variety of kills based on the existence of the rides alone. One area where not using the theme park mentality as expected actually worked to great effect was the security guards’ reactions to the news that a killer was on the loose. The one-night-only conceit of Hell Fest could’ve given the security guards’ disbelief in a real serial killer a more sinister bent (they can’t shut the park down because it’d be disastrous financially), but it was a nice surprise that they genuinely believed that it was just an employee doing their job and only pretending to kill people. That was a great layer of the “what’s really happening and what’s fake?” psychological games our heroes have to contend with. It’s actually also what I wish they had pushed further with the theme park setting rather than deaths on rides: even more uncertainty about what was actually going on.

I also liked that the movie subverted my expectations regarding some of the deaths. Given one of her first scenes at Hell Fest, I thought they’d have Brooke (Reign Edwards) get killed first, following the “black girl/guy dies first” cliché, so it was an awesome surprise that charging into an isolated area after the killer in defense of her bestie Natalie (Amy Forsyth) by herself didn’t result in her dying. I also expected good guy Gavin (Roby Attal) to survive the film, allowing the harrowing events of the night to give him and Natalie the confidence to get together, so his being killed first was another shock. He also got an inventive death—killed with a carnival “test your strength” mallet—which was a good change of pace from the typical slasher M.O. Taylor’s (Bex Taylor-Klaus) death was probably the best scene of the film: first we get a theme park-sanctioned fake-out as she’s “beheaded” by a guillotine in front of a crowd, then the murderous ‘Other’ tries to kill her while she’s still strapped to the guillotine only for the blade to not be sharp enough, so she manages to free herself and escape for a brief chase where no one believes she’s in real danger. That sequence managed to create a whole lot of tension, dread, and even some comedy with the Other’s reaction to the guillotine not working the first time. It’s an extremely well-crafted sequence, so it’s a shame that it ended with the Other just going on a stabbing spree, which was much more generic (and disappointing) than the deaths that had come before. Another innovation was Nat giving up the location of a terrified Hell Fest-goer (Courtney Dietz) to the Other and even encouraging him to kill her (thinking it was all part of the haunted house). That forged a connection between them, but I wish they’d taken a lot more time to explore its effects on Natalie once she knew people were really dying. One of my favorite scares at Halloween Horror Nights was a scare-actor pulling a planted employee out of line inside one of the houses and killing them in full view of everyone, so having Natalie goad the Other into ‘doing his job’ was the most unsettling moment in this movie. Anyone could’ve made her mistake: in that kind of environment, how would you be able to tell if something like that was real?

While I liked Natalie as the lead, there was a weird streak of vaguely-defined darkness in her past that was repeatedly referenced but never really expounded on. It seemed like it was there to make her “deeper” or something, but darkness and angst aren’t shortcuts to depth, nor do they necessarily add anything to a character. She didn’t need that weirdness to make her relatable; there wouldn’t have been anything wrong with her just being a normal college student. She was a solid character without some past tragedy and it didn’t make her fight for survival any more compelling to have this vaguely referenced past (especially when the creepy bond between Natalie and the Other is established and is MUCH darker than almost anything that could possibly be in her past). Still, it was great to see Nat fight back in classic Final Girl fashion and popping out of a Boo Hole to stab the killer was great! That was a nice use of her earlier clocking the pattern of scares in the houses. The bond between Natalie and Brooke was well written and acted by both of them, making even a reference to running off to Spain that could’ve felt completely random feel like a piece of their shared history. I really liked that all these friends actually had each other’s backs and stood up for each other instead of being the unlikable idiots that you might expect in a slasher movie.

Bex Taylor-Klaus had the most energy amongst the cast and I wish the others matched her more often (though everyone else’s characters were written to be much more subdued than hers, especially the other women). She was best playing off of Tony Todd, who was wasted in his cameo. If only four people died as the news at the end of the movie says, I hope Taylor survived her stab wounds.

The villain was unfortunately kinda lackluster and the humming he was constantly doing didn’t add any creepiness. It’s not that he wasn’t a threat—the circumstances of Hell Fest made him potentially omnipresent and definitely dangerous—but he didn’t stand out as an iconic slasher. I did like how easy it was for him to get a weapon inside Hell Fest, but otherwise the Other was a pretty run-of-the-mill character, with the environment doing the heavy lifting of his intimidation factor. The reveal at the end about who he really was worked well; I wasn’t unsettled, but I liked the fact that it was just some guy. Maybe that’s an argument to not give him iconic and memorable characteristics like Michael Myers or Freddy Krueger, but the balance between his ability to blend into normal society and the memorable factor should’ve swung more in the latter’s favor for the purposes of a movie.

The movie’s dialogue was a little off in the first few scenes, but once they got to Hell Fest it flowed much more naturally. This was especially true of Natalie and Gavin’s bonding scenes; they sounded just like real people trying to find their groove on a slightly awkward first date. I liked most of the characters and thought their respective actors did a good job, particularly Forsyth, Edwards, Taylor-Klaus, and Attal. The score was good too. I thought they did a good job of crafting a more or less new environment for a slasher film, even if they didn’t utilize it to its fullest potential. Things like a ride “breaking down” and Natalie not knowing if the masked man approaching her while she was trapped in the car was the real killer or just an employee, were very cool tricks to throw the audience and the characters off-balance as to what was real and what was just part of the experience. More of that could’ve created a bigger thriller vibe, but what was there worked well.

Overall, Hell Fest is a fun slasher movie that could’ve pushed itself further. It’s worth watching, and if a sequel were to dig deeper into some of the themes and uncertainty this movie touched on, I’d watch that too.

Check out more of my reviews, opinions, and original short stories here!

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dawnover-dusk · 8 years

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Starling { Seungcheol } (3)

genre: crime!au, mystery

word count: 1,463

summary: when monsters from 5 years past come back to play

warning: death, blood, if you can’t watch crime dramas do not read

< previous next >

“Please tell me you have something.” Seungcheol gazed at his frustrated team as he spoke on his phone in the corner of the conference room. Boxes of case files and evidence bags littered the round table while Jun stood at the board at the front of the room, pinning up photos of past paintings. Jihoon, with a new laptop, was typing away to isolate the video and the voice recording while writing a code to counter the SD card’s virus.

“Lab results are in. You’re not going to like this; the guy was in the system. Jiyong Kwon, misdemeanor for vandalism when he was a teenager. Not much of a history after that. I’ve sent you his file.”

“Thanks, Wonwoo,” Seungcheol sighed and hung up. He turned to the group of detectives occupying the room. “We have a name: Jiyong Kwon. Joshua and Jeonghan, review his file and talk to any living relatives and associates. Jun, it looks like our perp was a graffiti artist, so take a look at his art too. Jihoon, are you ready?”

The detective in question nodded and gestured for Jun to pause his work. Minghao, with his curiosity overcoming his restraint, followed the taller man and peered behind him at Jihoon’s screen. The sound of birds followed by a hoarse voice cut through the hum of the office.

“His voice sounds regretful,” Jun mused.

“Well, he did murder six women in the span of ten months,” Jihoon spat sarcastically.

“No, if he was regretful of the killings, he would’ve confessed. But he mentions his ‘mentor’ status first, so he probably feels regretful towards the mentee in some way. Perhaps the partnership fell apart? And he mentions ‘responsibility,’ like he’s been taking responsibility for his mentee’s actions—”

“So what, is the mentee the one doing the dirty work?”

“No, he would probably feel more resentment if he was taking the blame for murders. But it sounds like he’s taking credit for something—” Jun snapped his fingers and rushed to the board, pulling out his tablet in the process to look at the works which Jiyong had been arrested for. His eyes widened and he waved Seungcheol over. “These last two paintings are by a different person! There’s a precision in the brush strokes and blending not present in Kwon’s work, but you would never know if you weren’t looking for it. The writing that appears in the newest case also copies Kwon’s handwriting. This subordinate is an excellent forger.”

“Seungcheol,” Minghao called. The lieutenant turned to face the bomb specialist, surprised that the quiet young man had spoken up. “I don’t know if this is important, but I’ve been watching this video over again and at the 46 second mark, that’s not a normal starling call.” Jihoon replayed the moment over again. “That’s a crow call. Starlings are invasive and known for their mimicry—”

Jihoon shot Minghao a look while the latter shrugged in response. “What, I like birds.” Jun’s eyes widened as he ran over to his friend, grabbing his head and planting a kiss on his cheek. Minghao stared, horrified, and mumbled about workplace harassment while Jun bounced excitedly to Seungcheol.

“I can write up a preliminary profile. I won’t mess up this time.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Seungcheol responded, patting the psychologist on the shoulder. Jun gave a wan smile and returned to his position at the board, marker poised and scrawling out messy notes.

Joshua and Jeonghan entered the small business with their badges out. The heavily tattooed man at the front spared them cursory glances and continued counting the bills from the register tray without a word of greeting. The pair put away their identification and Joshua cleared his throat. “Did a Jiyong Kim use to work here?”

The man stacked the bills back into the register and slid the tray back into the machine. “That son of a bitch finally got arrested or died, yeah?”

The two detectives exchanged glances. “Excuse me?”

“I haven’t seen that bastard for years. Just stopped showing up to work, no warning. Had to offer all his clients tattoos on the house since he was booked months in advance.”

“Do you know if he had any friends or clients who would know more about his disappearance?”

“Nah, he was a temperamental artist all right. Kept to himself. I think he always wanted to be famous, but I guess being big in the tattoo community wasn’t enough.”

A tinny ringtone echoed throughout the empty tattoo parlor. Joshua excused himself while Jeonghan nodded to the man in thanks, following his partner out and into the car.

Seungcheol’s voice came through on speakerphone. “Jun’s original profile holds for the first Starling killer. Male, fascinated with death, saw his crimes as art, but not terribly sociable or strong enough given his pattern of transients and runaways.”

“I think we can confirm that Jiyong Kwon was the guy. We unsealed his medical records and found that he was diagnosed with cancer right before the first murder happened, and his former boss said he wanted to be famous. Probably wanted to go out with a bang.”

Jeonghan followed Joshua’s soft voice with a scoff. “You know, for someone who we couldn’t catch, the motive is still so utterly boring.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line as a door slammed and footsteps shuffled. Seungcheol returned to the phone. “Well, boys, be careful what you wish for. They found another body.”

The line went dead as Jeonghan started up the unmarked black car, racing towards the address texted a few moments later.

You found yourself standing in a cemetery in Queens with your boots crunching in the melting snow. Your windbreaker did nothing to keep you warm from the winter chill as you turned to take in your surroundings: crowded rows of tombstones, bare black trees against a gray sky, cars whizzing by. The cemetery was small, entrapped by three major highways in a triangle, and you idly wondered if those who were lain to rest here expected that their eternal slumber would eventually be disturbed by the noises of city traffic.

Seungcheol’s eyes locked onto yours and he smiled warmly, causing your chest to tighten with fondness. He was holding two cups of coffee in his bare hands and held one out to you. You took the cup gratefully and held it with both of your hands while bouncing a little on your toes to keep you from shivering.

You were staring at the crime scene when a cloth suddenly draped around your shoulders. The weight of the scarf surprised you, and you turned to see Seungcheol, now with his zipper pulled all the way up, leaving your side to speak with Wonwoo.

Chuckling, you finally made your way over to the body, pulling on latex gloves after wedging the paper cup into the snow by your feet. Mingyu was already taking notes on the state of the body.

“First time in the field,” you commented. “How was the commute?”

“I only live a fifteen-minute drive away,” Mingyu shrugged. “Must’ve been terrible coming from Manhattan traffic, though.”

You nodded in agreement and smiled. “Okay, newbie, tell me what you’ve got.”

The younger doctor walked you through his findings while you confirmed them. The corpse lying in front of you was of a young man, early to mid-twenties, with numerous stab wounds to his chest and abdomen. The snow around the body had melted into a sickly mixture of slush and blood. The nearest tombstone had a canvas taped to it with another painting of a starling.

“What do you think, babe?”

From your squatted position, you reached your arm back to hit Seungcheol’s knee. He yelped while Mingyu looked between the two of you. “Wait, he’s the boyfriend?”

“So much for keeping work and personal life separate,” you said. “I would estimate time of death around a month ago. There’s a puncture wound in the neck, so probably the same mechanism of death as the previous murders. Can’t say for sure but stab wounds look post-mortem.”

“Makes sense why he wasn’t discovered until now. The cemetery’s been closed ever since the blizzard, and they only started cleaning out this sector at the beginning of the week.”

You heard the faint crunches of snow as two more people sidled up to Seungcheol, peering at the crime scene. A velvety voice teased, “How are you two lovebirds?” and stepped back just in time to dodge another one of your well-aimed punches to his kneecaps. Joshua laughed before commenting, “Looks like overkill to me. Definite rage, and aside from the starling, clearly a different person at work.”

Jeonghan quietly agreed. “Looks like our new Starling is forging their own identity.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfics #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol fanfics #seungcheol #seventeen #s. coups #starling #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: death

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mrhotmaster · 5 years

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Special Ops Full Review: Neeraj Pandey Hotstar Series

Special Ops Full Review: Failure To Meet Even Low Expectations By Neeraj Pandey Hotstar Series

Yeah, Hotstar is reliable at least.

For as far back as week, Hotstar has been causing a ripple effect for the sudden unexpected appearance of its parent organization's new spilling administration — Disney+ — in India. That is currently waiting, yet it accompanies the guarantee of numerous new firsts from Star Wars and the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In the midst of this however, you could be excused for overlooking that Hotstar has its own nearby firsts too — called "Hotstar Specials" — which neglected to make waves in light of the quality, or deficiency in that department, of the six arrangements discharged a year ago.

That pattern lamentably proceeds with Special Ops, an activity spine chiller arrangement about Indian operators pursuing a worldwide fear based oppressor, from an author executive who has made this his claim to fame: Neeraj Pandey. His past endeavors in the class incorporate A Wednesday! Baby and Aiyaary, with a nearby cousin in Special 26. Composed by Deepak Kingrani (Pagalpanti), newcomer Benazir Ali Fida, and Pandey, Special Ops is a wreck on both paper and screen. Things truly happen on the grounds that the scholars required them to occur, and the film misleads the crowd to serve its plot turns, organizing plot mechanics over its characters. None of its characters have any movement or circular segments, in a manner of speaking, and they are disposed of as and when the story needn't bother with them. Special Ops is both mixed up and rudderless as the finale approaches, and there are more last details than you check when it wraps up. Special Ops swings between two inverse character states: heartless ability and reckless ineptitude. A fear based oppressor plan who coolly walks around a high-security government complex is a similar person who doesn't have the foggiest idea how to establish out a mole in his association. Spies who have been implanted for a considerable length of time and are appeared to impart well flop in the two respects on various checks. So also, the Hotstar arrangement's tone is everywhere. It has no feeling of how altering functions, with its lopsided cutting and foundation score fixing the energy and feeling it desires. Special Ops needs specialized ability in all cases, particularly its horrendous utilization of moderate movement, as a method for time extending, that you would have trusted was a drama relic. On all that, Special Ops proceeds with Pandey's daily practice: a persistent spotlight on radical Islamic fear based oppression, with "great" Muslims associated with halting them. The Hotstar arrangement isn't out and out Islamophobic as, state, Netflix's Bard of Blood, where Muslims were depicted as primitive, yet there's something deceptive about its "terrible Muslims" talking uniquely in contrast to their contrary energies, which secretly sign to the crowd that they are not normal for "us". Special Ops additionally flag Pandey's craving to overturn the Islamophobic recognition, with odd outcomes. A very late wind apparently endeavors to cause us to think about our preferences, however it's such a dumb sleight of hand that it just serves to puzzle, while neglecting to address the genuine issues of its arrangement.

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We open at the 2001 assault on the Parliament of India, before bouncing eighteen years forward to an interior investigation into RAW specialist Himmat Singh (Kay Menon, from Shaurya). For almost two decades, Himmat's been after a psychological militant with the false name of Ikhlaq Khan — basically a MacGuffin for a large portion of the show's runtime — in whose interest he has spent immense assets in his group of five specialists spread across Asia. Himmat trusts Ikhlaq is the driving force behind the previously mentioned Parliament assault and a few more across India. In any case, here's the trick: nobody trusts Himmat. Furthermore, with nothing to appear for it after this time, the specialists power Himmat to relate what precisely he's been up to with the millions he's apparently squandered on pursuing an apparition. That goes about as the portal to present its supporting cast, and jump into Himmat's past. Among the previous, we've Delhi Police cop Abbas Sheik (Vinay Pathak, from Bheja Fry) who turns out to be near Himmat post-2001. And afterward there's the said group of five: the Dubai-based Farooq Ali (Karan Tacker, from Ek Hazaaron Mein Meri Behna Hai), the Tehran-based "housewife" Ruhani Syed Khan (Meher Vij, from Secret Superstar), the Baku-based expert sharpshooter Avinash (Muzzamil Ibrahim, from Dhokha), the Istanbul-based chef Balakrishna Reddy (Vipul Gupta, from K. Road Pali Hill), and the continually voyaging Juhi Kashyap (Saiyami Kher, from Mirzya). Farooq is the one in particular whose foundation is appropriately outlined out however, with the others not getting in excess of a line or two. Concerning the last mentioned, Special Ops is languid with its piece on occasion, clarifying what we've just observed or discussing what those in the room definitely know. In any case, the more serious issue for the Hotstar arrangement is its finished failure to produce the essential rushes. In the first place, in contrast to state with a Mission: Impossible, Himmat doesn't go far and wide pursuing Ikhlaq. Rather, he burns through the vast majority of the on-screen time between three indoor areas: his office, his home, and another office. Without a doubt, it may be sensible for somebody in his position, however it barely makes for good TV when the hero is never found in real life (short the opening scene). It likely could be unconvincing to put a work area racer in the field, similar to the case from the get-go in Jack Ryan, yet there's an explanation show do it. Also, dislike rationale is of high repute to Special Ops at any rate. It's tossed out the window in the quest for satire, with managers jeopardizing their operators in the line of obligation for a relatable everyman joke, or specialists getting sources to talk in manners that would be all the more fitting in a Charlie Chaplin droll. It's tossed out to cause the scallawag to appear to be threatening, even as it goes despite the operators' convention and preparing. It's tossed out to let the heroes get away and live one more day. It's tossed out to improve the plot. What's more, now and again, it's tossed out on the grounds that... it can? Furthermore, Special Ops has little thought for genuine guidelines, for example, extraordinary time zones, or even those limits it has set for itself, whose neglectful negligence breaks all idea of authenticity in the Hotstar arrangement. Special Ops is likewise not chivalrous of the cash available to its. (In the event that you hold up through the credits, you'll be welcomed by a Dolby Atmos logo, which is exceptionally interesting in light of the fact that Hotstar is as yet stuck in the sound system sound time.) Despite obviously having the greatest spending plan of any Hotstar unique to date — you can tell that from the areas it approaches — it looks uninteresting. That is down to the deadened heading from Pandey and Shivam Nair (Naam Shabana), in blend with walker cinematography and shading reviewing. In the opening grouping, there's a building up shot like clockwork. In different spots, it doesn't have the foggiest idea what to film or where to center. All that contributes into making a show that stalls minute by minute, scene by scene, and at last, scene by scene. It's fairly idyllic, that simply like its messed-up, insane rollout of Disney+, Hotstar is likewise fit for screwing up a direct activity spine chiller. Would it be able to do anything right? Every one of the eight scenes of Special Ops are presently gushing on Hotstar around the world.

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#entertainment #spec ops #special ops #special ops hotstar review #special ops online series #specia

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recentanimenews · 5 years

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Review: Promare

During a live stage interview promoting his directorial debut, the 2004 anime Dead Leaves, Hiroyuki Imaishi was asked whether he went a little “too far” with the film, which runs for roughly 50 minutes of nonstop action and features a character with a drill penis. “No,” he replied, “being halfway is the worst.”

Fifteen years later, Imaishi has gone from cult favorite animator to superstar director — helming Gainax’s comeback hit, Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, and Studio Trigger’s breakout TV debut, Kill la Kill. Both series are also the result of a collaboration with screenwriter Kazuki Nakashima (Batman Ninja). Imaishi’s solo works, including Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt and Space Patrol Luluco, are brilliant in their own way, but Nakashima’s sensibilities perfectly balance the Imaishi insanity by blending in a sly, tongue-in-cheek self-seriousness. When fans think “Studio Trigger,” the studio founded by Imaishi and his buddies, they are often thinking specifically of Imaishi’s works and, even more specifically, of the Imaishi-Nakashima collaborations. Promare, screening this week in US theaters, is the third such project, and the first original feature film from the pair.

In classic Imaishi-Nakashima fashion, Promare is a story of stark contrasts. Gurren Lagann gave us humans and beasts, spirals and anti-spirals, while Kill la Kill pitted sentient clothing against freedom-fighting nudists. Promare follows a group of firefighters in a world populated by both regular humans and “Burnish,” mutant humans who can control fire. After a tense intro establishing the backstory of the Burnish, the film dives right into its first action set piece, wherein the “Burning Rescue” team face off against the terrorist organization “Mad Burnish.”

Galo and Lio, the fiery lead characters of Promare.

What follows is a world-rending battle of mecha-equipped firefighters and superpowered arsonists. The protagonist, Galo, is a hot-blooded, air-headed firefighter with more than a passing resemblance to Gurren Lagann’s Kamina. His Burnish counterpart, Lio, starts off encased in menacing armor clearly inspired by Marvel’s Venom, but hiding underneath is a dashing pretty-boy. Lio begins the story as a clear antagonist before a series of twists rearranges the alliances and turns villains into heroes and vice-versa.

That’s not to say Promare is a particularly twisty or complex story; like most things from its director-writer pair, it’s pretty straightforward and easy to predict. The fun is in watching its larger-than-life characters butt heads (sometimes literally) and ratchet up the tension before releasing it in massive action scenes (backed by a booming score from Kill la Kill’s Hiroyuki Sawano, I might add).

Those fights, in particular, represent a new direction for Studio Trigger, which has historically focused on hand-drawn 2-D animation. Promare, while officially a Trigger production, features large portions animated by Trigger’s sister CG studio Sanzigen. Binding the 2-D and 3-D together is a brilliant design decision inspired by the flattened cartoon art of Panty & Stocking; everything from characters to backgrounds are rendered in bright, flat swaths of color. The result is a series of kaleidoscopic action scenes, with multicolored, serpentine flame effects framed by dynamic moving camera work. It’s sometimes hard to parse foreground from background when things get particularly crazy, but at its best Promare is an absolute visual feast.

And believe it or not, Promare’s simple action-centric facade also hides some more serious themes. The most obvious one finds its expression in the Burnish, who are vilified as a race for the actions of a few bad apples. In response, a police force called the “Freeze Force” tracks down innocent Burnish and locks them away. Promare is a Japanese movie, but it’s hard not to make the connection with our own ICE here in the United States. Later the film reveals the true villain’s eco-fascist machinations, and what it offers in response is a perfectly pure-hearted, idiotic kind of radicalism: just do the right thing, period, even if you have to burn everything down to do it.

If anything, Promare’s greatest weakness is that there’s too much going on and not enough time to cover it all. The two-hour runtime feels like an unreasonable constraint for a story whose scope and scale is comparable to Gurren Lagann and Kill la Kill. Because the story has to barrel along from one set piece to the next, there’s not a lot of time to goof off. I found myself pining for the early monster-of-the-week episodes of Kill la Kill; give me a full episode with each Burning Rescue team member to really get to know them!

Further, a cast of male principals and a lack of time for side characters renders Promare without much of a female presence (though trust me, it’s got some very good boys). Burning Rescue’s transport airship pilot Aina has a strained relationship with her enigmatic scientist sister that plays nicely into the film’s finale, but in a movie so packed with bombastic action, it’s disappointing that there are zero female-led action scenes. Not just disappointing, but surprising as well, considering Imaishi’s last two outings — Space Patrol Luluco and Kill la Kill — featured tons of kick-ass heroines.

I’ve spent most of this review comparing Promare to the previous two TV series from its creators. The comparison is both inevitable and apt, since Imaishi and Nakashima tend to make the same kind of stuff every time. Unfortunately, Promare isn’t as much of a complete meal as something like Kill la Kill, which has more time to really establish itself. But being a feature film gives Promare one big advantage, and that’s the theatrical experience. Seeing the movie on the big screen, surrounded by a crowd of raucous anime fans, is the best way to experience it. Compressing the power creep of an Imaishi-Nakashima show into two hours transmutes an already intense experience into a dizzying collage of nonstop action (again, not unlike Dead Leaves). At the Anime Expo 2019 screening I attended, the audience was so wound up that they went wild every time a title card appeared to introduce a character or mecha.

Promare heats up theaters in the US this week for a limited run and should absolutely be seen on the big screen. It’s one of the most fun action anime movies in a long time and represents an inflection point for both its studio and creator team. Trigger has proven capable of translating their success on TV into a feature film, Nakashima is leaning harder into political commentary than ever before, and the animation team has pulled off an ambitious digital animation experiment that is already influencing their future productions – notably Yoh Yoshinari and Nakashima’s upcoming BNA. Hiroyuki Imaishi said it best: being halfway is the worst, and thankfully Promare goes all the way.

Promare originally appeared on Ani-Gamers on September 17, 2019 at 2:27 AM.

By: Evan Minto

#Anime #News #Ani-Gamers

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grapsandclaps · 7 years

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GRAPS AND CLAPS REVIEWS THE BEST AND WORST OF 2017.

Hello Everyone! Welcome to this issue of Graps and Claps reviewing what was 2017 - one that has been full of highs, lows and middle of the road going on's in general.

Having only started these memoirs of 2017 in late March it looks like it has proved popular amongst the masses on Twitter, even to the effect that I have met new people at shows due to them reading this blog.

I'm happy to admit that at the start of this year, I never had any intention of pursuing a writing/blogging career, but due to some advice from a couple of people and also due to the fact I had a really bad day at work it took me to the decision - what had I got to lose from writing about something I guess I avidly follow around the country?.

The original #80showyear which at the start of the year looked a reachable target after I had done 76 the year before. But as soon as the realisation that 80 was going to be surpassed, the silly side in me thought 100 was the more likely target and even now it has been surpassed and now ended on a total of 104 for the year.

By the looks of the greater world, another half a dozen people have gone past the 100 and beyond marker including two lads I have met a lot this year at shows - Martin and Davey.

Davey I first met at GPW early this year and was a relative stranger to me at that time, but has become a part of the furniture at nearly all the local shows I am at now. For the life of me I don't know how Davey keeps awake at shows, must be something they put in the Pepsi Max nowadays - but it has been great to meet someone who has been doing a similar thing to myself (Top lad).

When I look back on this year and forward to next year I will say one of my problems was once I knew I could make a certain figure, the numbers took over my head and I would book tickets to shows that were on my doorstep or about an hour away.

Never has their been a year where I have ever gone to shows in Todmorden, Middleton and Halifax, but this year was the year, I mean if there was a show in a back garden somewhere I would have probably turned up clapping away and reviewing the spread of sarnies No.10 had put on.

With doing 104 shows it all comes to a very high cost. From trains, tickets, drink, food and hotels the cost all mounts up and it has been one thing that has hit me hard this year.

As mentioned before in an earlier edition, I talked about the over £300 I spent on a trip to London on the August Bank Holiday to watch what was basically a Progress 'Go Home Raw' show which left me cursing my own head on spending that amount of money on what was a very missable 4 hour show.

Ever since then, there has been many times (Fight Club Pro Project Mayhem Night 2, WXW London & PCW Blackpool) to name specific ones where I have had the 'face of worry' due to my own stupidity of trying to afford going to shows, going to gigs and football plus other things - trying to live the Champagne lifestyle on lemonade pockets.

This is something I have already i've said to myself, it won't happen in 2018. Cutting out the number of London trips and going to Wolverhampton instead, which is a cheaper option all around and some might say the better wrestling product.

Also not going to some shows just for the sake of it, even though it is great going to shows meeting friends, the 4 and 5 show weekenders can become a bit tiring on the body.

There has been many a Monday morning where I have literally felt worn out and wanting to stop under my duvet and sleep but hey these shows don't pay for themselves.

One exception to the rule next year will be a trip to WXW 16 Carat Gold which is an event I have always wanted to go to after hearing so many great things from people who have gone in the past years.

So as with any year end review, I would like to give out some thoughts on the best of 2017 awards for Show of the Year, Match of the Year, Chant of the Year, Pub of the Year, Promotion of the Year, Comedy moment of the year.

LET'S BEGIN!!

UK Show of the Year:

1. Fight Club Pro DTTI Night 1

2. WXW London (January)

3. Chikara King of Trios Night 2

4. PCW Tribute to the Troops Night 2

5. Progress SSS16 Night 3

Fight Club Pro DTTI gets the verdict in a close contest due to the fact of it's ridiculous card of riches headlined by The Elite vs British Strong Style but with also an exceedingly strong undercard only featuring one downpoint which was The Hunter Brothers vs The LDRS. The venue might as well have won an award for itself for the 'Hotter than the sun' Award, the whiff of wrestling fans was certainly bottled up on that night.

Match of the Year:

1. Matt Riddle vs WALTER (Progress Birmingham in July).

2. Travis Banks vs Soner Durson II (Futureshock Wrestling).

3. David Starr vs WALTER (WXW London October).

4. Daisuke Sekimoto vs Keith Lee (XWA Bethnal Green)

5. Zack Sabre Jr. vs Angelico (FCP DTTI Night 2).

The Atlas title clash between Matt Riddle vs WALTER wins a hotly contested award thanks to its believability of two men hitting each other really hard, the chops to Riddles chest were some of the most vicious chops I have seen all year. When a match leaves you with goosebumps they have certainly got you by the short and curlys and this delivered that.

A close contender to the No.1 spot was Travis Banks vs Soner Durson II from Futureshock Wrestling which left a 200 strong Stockport crowd in awe and amazement after a breathtaking 20 minute contest. The literal buzz after this contest was something that had to be seen to be believed, a star making match for Durson and a belt making match for the Adrenaline Title.

Chant of the Year

1. WOOOAAAHHH HERE HE COMES, WATCH OUT BOYS HE'LL CHEW YOU UP, WOOAAAHHHH HERE HE COMES, HE'S A FLAMITA.

2. EVERY WOMAN EVERY MAN JOIN THE DONOVAN OF LOVE, STAND UP STAND UP!

3. PURPLE FACE PURPLE FACE, ONLY WANT TO SEE YOU WRESTLING WITH YOUR PURPLE FACE

4. CHICKEN IN A BIN IN A BIN CHICKEN IN A BIN!!

5. BALDY BALDY OVER THERE, WHATS IT LIKE TO HAVE NO HAIR, IS IT HOT, IS IT COLD, I DON'T KNOW COS I'M NOT BALD.

A runaway winner with the chant thought up on a Premier Inn Shitter by our Geoff. Inspired, had Flamita flummoxed and a crowd of 700 people in stitches.

2nd place goes to the ill-fated 'Donovan of Love' as much as the Progress Gestapo said it didn't work, it very much did with the crowd being offered a HouseMartins music lesson whilst watching a storming match between Donovan Dijak vs Pete Dunne.

3rd place went to the Purple Ronnie of BritWres - Robbie X, this wound him up rotten this chant haha!

4th & 5th place were inspired by the underated works of Damon Leigh in Futureshock Wrestling, who has got his Chicken antics that over, that a fight over a bin has become one of the most anticipated of the year.

Pub of the Year:

1. The Crown and Kettle (Manchester)

2. The Guild Ale House (Preston)

3. The Fenton (Leeds)

4. The Devonshire Cat (Sheffield)

5..The Giffard (Wolverhampton)

The Crown and Kettle gets the win here due to its status as the home to the Pre Show Tuesday Night Graps Lucha Lash. Great ale, good pies and great location to a venue.

The Guild Ale House was a close second due to its nice beer at a price under £3 and has took pride of place as the best pub in Preston.

The Giffard sneaks in at No.5 due to being a good aftershow venue for Fight Club Pro and the class tunes it has to offer. If based on toilets it would get nowhere near.

The Fenton makes an appearance thanks to the top afternoon a huge group of us had whilst on a trip to see TIDAL in Leeds. Seeing at least 20 of us enthralled by a game of Pool whilst all generally getting on with each other is still one of my favourite days of the year.

Promotion of the Year:

1. Fight Club Pro

2. Futureshock Wrestling

3. PCW

4. Lucha Forever

5. PROGRESS

Fight Club Pro gets the win here for me due to the fact it has got the right blend of great wrestling, fun atmosphere and reasonable ticket pricing - almost like what Progress had a couple of years ago.

Futureshock deserves its second place standing here - consistently good shows, fun audience and a focus on making the secondary title as important as the Heavyweight title has been a great feature of a promotion who has it right on point.

PCW is another that has had a great year thanks to consistent storylines which were a problem last year. Tribute to the Troops Night 2 is well deserving of a spot in Show of the Year categories. Also take into account the number of promising wrestlers soon to be making waves from the Academy - Philip Michael, Sheikh El-Sham, Rhio, Dave Birch and BIG T.

The shows that took place at both Blackpool Tower Circus and Ballroom have provided two of the most spectacular venues you could see wrestling in. 2018 could be a very big year for PCW and it is one i'm looking forward to.

Comedy Moment of the Year:

1. Eddie Dennis sending Chris Linay to the 02 Academy Sheffield Deck

2. Joey Janela vs The Invisible Man

3. Inflatable Kid Lykos, Sexy Travis & Chris Brookes vs Aussie Open & Millie Mckenzie

4. Our Geoff vs Athers for the BritWres Pool Title in the Fenton to the sounds of 'Candle in the Wind' by Elton John.

5. BANGARANG at the first Lucha Forever in Manchester.

THE 'GET IN THE BIN' AWARD

1. Social Media i.e. Twitter (great at times, but christ there is lots of tedium)

2. 02 venue prices

£4.40 for a coke at the venue in Liverpool had me reduced to tears.

3. Casio keyboard theme tunes

I have wrote about this at length this year, the entrance means everything to getting an act over, you only had to see the reaction to the return of Rampage Brown at Sheffield for the use of the real music at a show - that crowd came unglued.

4. 'BOTH THESE GUYS'

Get off the fence you arse-splintering fence sitters.

5. PROGRESS Fans Forum

'I spotted someone wearing a 'Choose Progress' shirt in Costa Coffee and I thought I would post it - Deary Deary me.

Worst Toilet of the Year:

1. The Giffard

Remember that scene out of Trainspotting, welcome to the Giffard bogs - wet bog roll, smell of stale piss- Hell on Earth.

2. The Corporation

See The Giffard but less 'Hell on Earth'

Best Toilet of the Year:

1. The Resistance Gallery

Comic Magazines plastered on the wall made for an interesting and thoughtful time on the toilet.

2. The Devonshire Cat

Nice designed piss stones which are actually beer barrells. Great idea and I commend them for it.

So there you go that's the review of 2017 and I hope you have enjoyed reading it, many have actually said it is the best wrestling related blog they have read this year 😊.

It has been a year where the group of people I now know at shows has grown to huge numbers, some who have made the trip to shows no matter how shit the shows or how down I have been, they have made it more bearable and to them I want to say Thank You.

Also thank you to Ben Corrigan and Matthew Pryor for their guest reviews this year for which they did great work.

So what of 2018, well GRAPS and CLAPS will return and even the odd review for other sites will be taking place (Indy Corner and WrestleRopes). #grapsandclaps

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lifeontap · 7 years

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New Post has been published on https://www.lifeontap.com/bbc17-the-beer-industry-in-milwaukee-and-wisconsin/

#BBC17 - The Beer Industry in Milwaukee and Wisconsin

“Why is Dan covering the third session first?”

Well due to the cascading delays from the round of thunderstorms around the country, my flight’s crew was delayed so long that those same storms finally hit NYC. Hence, GROUNDED. The torrential rain not only caused a delay, but I found out later that my suitcase (and presumably most on the flight) were left outside for at least a few minutes. The seemingly never-ending downpour soaked every article of clothing in my bag…including the jeans I had intended to wear later that day. There was a silver lining in that none of the beer, packed ever so carefully, was affected.

For every Beer Bloggers Conference I have attended, I always had the pleasure of Julia Herz ( @HerzMuses ) to kick things off with poise, data, and new perspectives. I also missed the welcome from John Kimes of the Pabst Milwaukee Brewery which no doubt was full of energy and joviality. Many of my fellow bloggers covered this well via social media and blog coverage, so I will leave it to them.

After spending nearly forty minutes hanging up the wet clothes, carefully inspecting the beer, and using a hair dryer on my damp jeans, I hopped in a Lyft to head straight to lunch, hosted at the newly-renovated, former church — Pabst Milwaukee Brewery. I grabbed a few delicious bites care of Chef Rebecca Berkshire (those deviled eggs were AMAZING), a Biere de Mars, a Barleywine, and quick catchup/hello with previous attendees.

As I walked into the Great Hall, I feasted my eyes on the polished yet hearth-like appeal of the room. I saw more familiar faces as I scouted out a seat where I could plant myself and finally take a load off while listening to some interesting viewpoints that would paint the theme of my weekend: Milwaukee is a must-visit beer destination that should be better recognized for its role in American beer history, the brewing community’s attention to beer quality from grain to gulp, and their sincere commitment to hospitality.

#BBC17 Panel – The Beer Industry in Milwaukee and Wisconsin

The Beer Industry in Milwaukee and Wisconsin

The Panel

Anne Sprecher of Sprecher Brewing Company

Executive Director Mark Garthwaite of the Wisconsin Brewers Guild

Russ Klisch of Lakefront Brewery.

Kathy Flanigan from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, Moderator

A Little History

While I will not recount everything said by the incredible panel, one phrase was consistently repeated that deserves mentioning. New breweries in Milwaukee (and Wisconsin as well) were “in the large breweries shadow” for quite a while. We first heard about how German brewing culture came to be present, and how Wisconsin communities mostly revolved around their hometown brewery’s beer garden. In 1836, the first brewery opened in West Wisconsin (the capital of Madison). A local beer history lesson would also be remiss if “Prohibition Tales” were not mentioned, which reminded me of Schell’s own stories told previously on The Session. Hell, even the baseball team in Milwaukee are Brewers (not just in name, as three collaborated on a beer for the park).

Fast forward to the 1970s, filled with the repeated woes of brewery shutdowns and consolidation by the Big Three. Looking back at this, one could draw many comparisons between Milwaukee and fellow beer city St. Louis. I was in awe to learn that out of the 76 breweries that remained at America’s low point, 11 of them were located in Wisconsin. Now there are 30 in Milwaukee alone! Mark correctly identified LL Cool J when he said to the room, “Don’t call it a comeback…we’ve been here for years.” I, or even huge LL fan Fudge’ems could not have said it better ourselves.

The Craft Beer Scene

Russ and Anne spoke about the evolution of the local craft beer scene, as Lakefront turns 30 and Sprecher turns 33 this year. It was not until 2005 that investor money became plentiful. All craft breweries were start-ups who frequently would create “Frankenstein” systems out of old dairy equipment and whatever else they could get their hands on. Now as well as then, you need to have passion to get into this game.

Craft Beer has always been a disruptor to the American macro-breweries, but I did not know that they were an equal or bigger disruptor to distributors as well as the Three-Tier System. Mark was able to further explain that brewery licenses included wholesale and retail identities, which in essence bypasses our current legal setup for all alcohol. The word “dissonance” was thrown out, as while all wanted to extend the category, the level of trust to do so may not have been present. After hearing from other people over the course of the weekend, it appears that a new balance is being sought after by some. I would like to believe that many have the sincere interest of offering higher levels of quality and choice to the consumer, but previous news stories (outside Wisconsin) have shown that some will do anything to get market share and money.

The Wisconsin Brewers Guild (and other regional guilds) are banding their resources together to lobby for their rights, just as other interest groups do the same for distributors and retailers (the other two tiers). Some on the panel were concerned that the creation of additional guilds may dilute the power of the guilds. This trend will be another interesting one to watch not just in Wisconsin, but in every state.

Festivals, Festivals and More Festivals?

Anne alluded back to the initial history remarks as well as their efforts to bring the beer garden back to the community. Sprecher works with Milwaukee County Parks and employs “traveling beer gardens” complete with converted old fire trucks armed with taps instead of hoses and such. They also sponsor programs like “Pass Me A Pint” and “Roll Out The Barrel Tour” to additionally support the local beer culture. Since Sprecher’s foray into this area, MillerCoors and other breweries jumped in and donated a lot of money as well. A key result: incidents of crimes have gone down in all parks where beer gardens are present.

Believe it or not, Wisconsin leads the nation in festivals…there are sometimes three a week! The biggest is “Great Taste of the Midwest”, of which Mark has been the Chair (it’s his last year). All panelists noted that “Festival Fatigue is a real thing” as is “Craft Beer Week Fatigue”; from April through September, all the brewers and authorized representatives struggle to attend and represent their brand at every fest. While everyone agreed there is room to do festivals well, each brewery needs to make hard decisions on which ones to attend. One additional constant is that all festivals (including charitable and non-profit) pay for the beer, and that it is never donated. Russ added, “if all brewers gave it, they themselves would become non-profits.”

Other noted comments on festivals was that some mandate that an official representative (brewer or owner) must be present for festivals, such as Glendale’s. Mark chimed in saying, “Personal connection” is important at festivals and wherever beer is poured. I cannot tell you how many beer festivals I have been to that the persons pouring do not know anything about the beer except what they have been told. For me, speaking to someone who brewed or helped with the process in some way is much more valuable. So has the novelty of festivals worn off? Not for the organizers obviously, who constantly push breweries with the promise of additional or enhanced exposure. Mark quickly quipped, “You can die of exposure.” Too true.

Diversity and Craft Beer

All panelists mentioned grappling with this topic. I will be the first to admit that it is not easy to approach, but if we all agree to talk openly and honestly we can make real strides. The Pink Boots Society already does an incredibly service for women in craft beer, and actively encouraging and educating anyone interested should still be the focus according to the panel. Seeing more minorities and women at the helm of craft beer enterprises help provides role models and mentors for our future brewing generation.

What’s The Biggest Opportunity for Wisconsin Beer?

Russ: More sessions, more fun beers, more education, more collaborations

Anne: Educational opportunities through Cicerone, Hop School, etc.

Mark: Collaboration across beer, wine and spirits (barrel-aging is just the beginning)

Audience Questions

How should we review bad beer as a blogger?Two approaches were offered here: ranking and omission. If you rank all the rauchbier you have tasted and rank one at the bottom, you are in essence not saying it is bad beer. You are simply stating there are a bunch that are better. If I feel that a beer is not the best representation (accidental infection, questionable storage/transport etc.), I generally will not post a review. I also will reach out to the brewery directly with my concern, for which most of the time I am thanked for the notification. In the end each and every blogger or writer will need to be consistent in their approach.

Mixing beers/blending between breweries?A Schlitz/Pabst combo was mentioned, which obviously drew jeers from the audience. The panelists did not seem that excited or interested at this prospect, but some of us out here might not say no if one was handed to us.

What are the most popular tours now that there are more taprooms – will tours need to evolve?While curious people like bloggers and homebrewers (about 1% according to Anne) might be more inquisitive about recipes, setups and the technical end of things, most people go on tours to be entertained and sample beer. Most breweries and brewpubs seek guides who can relate to people, and work the crowd. The more unique of an experience, the more memorable and that will be key to evolving tours.

Looking Forward

The panel offered various paths and/or opportunities for stakeholders in local craft beer communities to expand brands as well as the overall category reach amongst alcohol drinkers. Russ reminded all of us that the Nielsen reports on actual SKU purchases show that while craft has made waves, it is by no means a major portion of market share. As previously mentioned, bloggers and writers play a unique role in developing our local beer culture and we collectively need to step up to evolve and preserve it and its history.

Cheers and remember:

Life’s a tap…drink up ’til it’s dry.

#beer culture #Craft Beer #festivals #lakefront #local communities #sprecher #wisconsin craft brewers guild

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