#and has some code of honor among freaks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tygerbug · 2 years ago

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Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves gives a modern comedic sensibility to its fantasy setting, more Community than Lord of the Rings. You can almost hear the players rolling dice to see how their next plan will play out. Scheme might be more accurate. It's partly a heist film. There's lots of action, and few big laughs but many chuckles. It's a smartly made film which goes for a tone which is difficult to nail, and largely succeeds with it.

The film is just grounded enough that it doesn't break the fourth wall to wink at the audience. But it never shakes the feeling that this is all taking place in 2023, rather than in some forgotten ancient age of giants. Or at least a version of 2023 that has wizards instead of smartphones. This appears to be intentional, an extension of how Dungeons & Dragons is a game played by modern-day people improvising around the kitchen table, who are only in character to the extent that they need to be. This could have felt like a CW TV show, but the film aims higher than that.

There's a hint of an idea here, of Chris Pine starring in something like The Princess Bride. But the script doesn't quite live up to that level of depth and subtext. We land closer to something like a Marvel movie, with Pine playing a snarky rogue who shows that he's a little bit bad by being unpleasant and rude about everything. Pine manages to play this likeably, where a lesser movie star would have failed at it. At times, when the script allows him to, he shows what he would have done with a more serious take on the character. I can imagine a Harrison Ford or Chris Pratt version of this, which in this context wouldn't have worked as well. Pine commits to a performance where we believe he's a good person, and he doesn't.

Hugh Grant (as Forge) similarly uses his aging good looks and charm to make it unclear how trustworthy his character is. It's a nervy, lived-in performance where he uses his entire personality to take over any scene in which he appears.

The filmmakers are John Francis Daley and Jonathan Goldstein, who did not direct Spider-Man Homecoming, but did direct Date Night. Daley costarred on the short-lived series Freaks and Geeks, as a kid who played Dungeons and Dragons. They seem like the ideal team to take on this subject matter, and take it almost seriously. You can feel every plot development clicking into place, and foreshadowed multiple times clearly before it happens, as if they're teaching a screenwriting class. You feel the effort, but the cast perform the material in a casual way which softens the blow. The result is solid enough, and those who wouldn't go to the theater for this will likely stumble across it on streaming television later and have a good time.

Michelle Rodriguez plays Holga, a butch female barbarian with an unusual taste in men. (Bradley Cooper is involved.) She spends much of her screentime beating the hell out of anyone who gets in her way, and the rest exuding the vibe of someone you could have a beer with. The female leads of the film seem queer-coded, although the film also assures us, in no uncertain terms, that they're straight. There is Sophia Lillis (a former Nancy Drew) as the plucky young shape-shifting Tiefling Druid Doric, whose character breaks a few actual D&D rules for convenience. Fast-paced effect scenes of her daring shape-shifting escapes feel rote rather than thrilling, but as a human she has an underdog quality which charms. There's also Daisy Head (yes, daughter of Tony) as the villainous witch Sofina, whose role consists of knowing when to be scary at the right times.

Justice Smith, of Detective Pikachu and Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom, affects a British accent to play the inept sorcerer Simon (there sure are a lot of sorcerers named Simon). In his mid-twenties during filming, he radiates awkward teenage energy instead, though with a casual coolness that keeps it from being irritating. Again, it's easy to imagine a much worse version of these characters, but this cast casually sidestep those problems.

Regé-Jean Page, of Bridgerton, also turns up as Xenk. There is a lot of tension between Xenk and Chris Pine's Edgin, as the two compete onscreen as to whom is more handsome and charismatic. Page makes this seem effortless, while Pine spends his time complaining. That's the joke, though it wears a bit thin, and they missed their chance to end the scene with a hug, as opposed to a handshake.

A scene in a graveyard was originally written as a Monty Python cameo, and is as close as this film gets to that kind of wordplay humor. In practice, and in makeup, it feels more like The Frighteners.

The script cares about its characters and wants them to succeed, and it's easy to imagine a more cynical take on the material, which would have fallen apart pretty quickly. The humor of the piece is entirely set in its world and plays by that world's rules. The characters have 2023 attitudes, but it's an alternate 2023 where they grew up in this realm. It's not humor which mocks or pokes at the setting, or stands apart from it. Instead they commit to existing in this world, a world which has established rules. If this is a D&D game, we see only the moments where the players are in character. Visually the film is a nonsense hodgepodge of vaguely fantasy-related design, without a truly consistent visual language, but this also can be forgiven as it suits the tone of the film, and the bright visuals are up to standard otherwise.

The characters from the 80s Dungeons and Dragons cartoon have an extended cameo as background characters, and the film is full of other such odds and ends. The toyline includes a Beholder, which is not in the film but may have been in earlier drafts.

In a move which shows how soulless these corporations are, Forgotten Realms creator Ed Greenwood is not credited at all.

Otherwise this is a solid adventure which captures the essence of Dungeons & Dragons in a clever and charming way.

Rating: Fresh / Recommended

(seen in theaters)

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goddesswritings · 4 years ago

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“Can I slap her for you?” - Corpse Husband | Part Two

Title: “Can I slap her for you?” – Part Two

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader

Summary: Being stuck living with the queen of YouTube drama and partying during the pandemic has seriously worn down your patience. Meeting Pokimane has changed your life for the better, making Among Us a pivotal part of your life.

Word Count: 5.2k

Unedited for now. I was eager to post. I will edit it later.

Corpse Masterlist

********

<< PART ONE

After you left the apartment, you sat in the parking lot of some random store, trying to decide what to do now. Sighing, you opened your phone and went to Instagram. Corpse was probably wondering if it went okay.

Corpse: She left the stream, thank you!

Corpse: What exactly did you do?

Corpse: She’s sending Sean angry DM’s now.

Corpse: Hey, are you okay?

Y/n: Hey sorry, I had to pack. I’m fine, happy to help get her out of the stream. I switched off the power to her office.

Honestly, you wished you could have stood up against her more often than you did. She was four years younger, so you should have been able to have the say in things. But no, Olivia was a control freak and a spoiled brat too. She would no doubt tell your parents you started a fight with her, and she felt unsafe.

Corpse: Wow, you’re badass. Packing for what?

Y/n: Um, she may have kicked me out of the apartment, and I may have left without a fight because I’m tired of her shit. 🤷‍♀️

Corpse: Do you have a place to stay?

Of course you didn’t and you really should have thought about that before just leaving the way you did.

Y/n: Not really but I will find somewhere.

Well you hoped you could. There weren’t many people who were keen in taking in a friend during a pandemic.

Corpse: Poki’s going to call you.

At that message, your phone started to wring and sure enough, it was Poki.

“Hello?” You asked hesitantly.

“So someone let it slip that your sister kicked you out?” Poki said calmly.

“Is that someone, Corpse?”

“Yes, he said it out of shock but I’m glad he did. Knowing you, you would have kept it a secret from me.” She was right. You hated inconveniencing your friends.

“Damn you, Corpse.” You muttered making her laugh. “Yeah so I ruined Olivia’s stream and she started screaming at me before kicking me out. I didn’t fight it because I am tired of her.”

“Understandable. Well do you need somewhere to stay?”

“Yes but I will find some place.”

“Nope, you’re staying with me. Come over now or I am coming out to drag you back to my place.” Her protectiveness made you smile.

“Sure, I’ll be there in a few.” You hung up.

Y/n: Thank you for looking out for my stubborn ass, Corpse. I would have never told her.

Corpse: Stubborn is one word to describe you. Cute is another.

That comment made your face heat up from the sheer adorableness of it. Corpse seriously just called you cute.

Y/n: Can I say you have a genuinely nice hand. It’s marvelous.

Corpse: Hey, don’t make fun of my hand. It takes all the heat for me. That hand is very anxious every time I post him.

Y/n: Awe I bet. Give him hugs from me. Also tell him I’m a big fan!

The easy flow of conversation between the two of you was nice. You got along extremely well and talking outside of the game was nice, since you could focus on what you really wanted to say to him.

Corpse: He’s flattered!

This was great and took your mind off Olivia and the fact she just kicked you to the curb with nowhere to go. But Poki was there for you. You appreciated her more than she knew.

You pulled up in front of her apartment building, parking the car, you got out and grabbed your stuff. Typing in the code Poki had given you a while ago, you were let into the building. Entering the elevator, you made your way to her apartment.

Barely knocking, the door flew open to reveal Poki. She looked mad but also worried. She pulled you into the apartment and hugged you tightly.

“Can I slap her for you?” She asked calmly.

This made you giggle. “I mean I would like to slap her as well.”

“We should make a plan. Hey, the group is still on, come say hi.” She started to lead you to her office.

“Are they still streaming?” You didn’t want to reveal your face to the world, not like this.

“Oh no. We ended our streams when Olivia started talking about you. She completely wasn’t respecting your privacy and we weren’t about to let her spill it to our viewers.” That was so sweet of them to do.

You had left your bags in the other room while you followed her. An idle conversation was going on when you entered.

“Hey guys, I’m back.” Poki took a seat in front of the computer, she pulled up a second chair. “I have someone special here.”

Sitting down, you saw her nod for you to say something. “Hey, did you miss me?”

They went wild.

“Y/n! Oh we missed you!”

“Don’t leave us again.”

“I’m sorry I invited your sister to stream.”

“Hey Y/n.”

The mix of voices was overwhelming in a good way. Sykkuno, Rae, Sean, and Corpse pretty much spoke over each other which made you laugh.

“One at a time, guys. You can’t overload her.” Leslie told them.

“Sorry Y/n. We just really missed having you here. You’ve become one of our favorite friends to play with.” Sykkuno said sounding as sweet as ever. That man was just the best.

“Yes, I can say we agree.” Rae added.

It was nice to hear they missed you. It really helped to lift your mood as well.

“Did your sister really kick you out?” Toast asked

“Yes she did. But it’s not surprising at this point. She’s probably been gunning to kick me out as soon as she could.” Sad truth

“Well she’s the worst player ever. She can’t keep a secret at all. I really should have never agreed to get her into the group.” Sean said sounding sad.

“Hey Sean, please don’t worry about it. She’s always weaseling her way into things. It’s completely not your fault.” One of the things she loved to do was incessantly DM other youtubers for collabs or for free stuff. She really had no morals.

“Well thank you, Y/n. You’re literally the sweetest.” Sean said earning a bunch of ‘I Agrees’ from everyone else. That really was helping make the night better.

“Who’s up for some more Among Us to relax after that shitshow?” Lud asked making everyone laugh hard. It was agreed the group would do it. Luckily, you had your laptop and joined the call and game and stayed in Poki’s living room to play. Honestly, it was so good for you.

At the end if gaming, you said goodbye to the group. Then Poki showed you to the extra room that used to be her roommates before she moved out last month.

“Hey, are you looking for a roommate?” You asked as you put the bags on the bed.

Poki sent you a smile. “I am. Are you interested?”

This was good. “Yes, I mean I still have to find another job since my main is still furloughing me until this pandemic gets better but I have some money saved up.”

“Hey, please don’t sweat it. Besides, I know a friend who’s in need of an editor, I may have mentioned your name and she really wants to talk to you about it. Is that okay?”

“Wow, that’s perfect. Thank you, Poki. You’re such a great friend.” It felt good to have someone there for you.

She pulled you into a hug. “Always. I am so glad I met you. You’re one of my best friends.”

This was an honor. “Don’t make me cry.”

“I can’t promise anything. Anyway, I will leave you to rest. It’s been a long night. Tomorrow I will give you my friends details.”

“Sounds good, night Poki.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.” She waved goodbye and closed the door behind herself.

Smiling, you sat on the bed. It was such a good thing that she was here got you. But also Corpse was the catalyst that got you to actually tell Poki was what happening. He was sweet and it seemed he was looking out for you.

After changing into comfy pj’s, you brushed your teeth before climbing into the freshly made bed. Opening Instagram, you saw that Corpse has messaged you.

Corpse: I don’t like being too forward but hey here we go. Can I please have your number so we can talk more easily?

A smile made its way to your face. For a tough man, he surely had a sweet way of getting to you

Y/n: Yes you can. xxx-xxx-xxxx.

The nerves jumped when you sent that message. Less than a minute later, you received a text from an unknown number.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Hey Y/n, it’s Corpse. Would you mind if I called you so we could talk for a little?

You liked this idea truthfully. It only helped to show how genuine Corpse was being.

Y/n

Not at all. Please go ahead and call me.

Your phone rang, displaying Corpse’s name.

“Hello?” You answered the phone while pushing away the anxiety.

A soft deep laugh filled your ear. “Hey sweet girl. How are you feeling?”

His words made you want to sigh in the most lovesick way. That never happened these days.

“I’m good. Poki had an extra room I could crash in and well I might just be her new roommate.”

“I love that. She’s so much better than your sister I assume.”

“She is. Here I won’t have to deal with the incessant pandemic partying Olivia likes to do.” That selfish bitch.

“Shit, is she stupid? She does know she’s risking a lot of lives, right?” You loved that Corpse had the logic you craved.

“So she is stupid, and her response was always that it’s not her problem and that the vulnerable people should stay home.”

“She sounds like the typical beauty youtuber these days.”

“Yes, she is. She has no morals.”

“Well that’s not good. I guess that’s why her name keeps popping up all over social media. She really needs to be careful, before she becomes the next Tana.” He was right but you personally thought she was past that point already.

“It’s too late. She’s already passed the point of return with all of this.”

“Yikes. It’s good you got out of there when you did.” A soft but deep laugh was heard through the phone. The sound made you giggle. Hearing such a tough guy laugh the way Corpse laughs, made you feel giddy. “So about what I said earlier, I meant it.”

“Huh, what are you talking about?” You truly were a little lost by this.

Corpse laughed again. “When I called you cute earlier. I meant it.”

Heat filled your face and a small smile made its way to your lips. “Thank you, Corpse. That’s really sweet of you. I don’t like to show many people who I am because they will immediately connect me to Olivia, and I don’t want that.”

“I get that. I don’t show my face for fear they won’t like me when I do. All my fans have built up this expectation of what they want me to look like and now I just don’t want to let them down. Plus it’s nice being able to stay anonymous if I go into public, but of course people will hear my voice and know. Shit, it’s hard.”

“Awe, I’m sorry. I saw what the attention has done to some people, but I think not everyone goes into that headspace. Also, I think you should stay faceless if it makes you feel better. There is no rule that says you ever have to show your face. People who push you to do it have no boundaries.”

Corpse was quiet for a while and you thought you had offended him. “I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing, Corpse.” You squeaked.

“No, you said the right thing. I was just thinking. You’re right. A lot of people have been on me to reveal my face, but I never intend to. I want to be able to live my life without being swarmed by fans, or god forbid, them judging me by my appearance.”

“Which is really fucked. When I first appeared in my sister video, the comments were awful. They couldn’t understand how she was related to me, but I never thought I looked bad. But I guess they expected Olivia to be surrounded by people in her genre. It was so hard to see those comments.” Thinking back to it, Olivia had even added to it. Telling you that you should have tried to look more like her for the video. You should have worn something more colorful and put-on way more make up then you liked. But you hated that. That wasn’t you.

“I can’t imagine the things they said. Is that why you deactivated your twitter?” How did he know about that?

“Oh, yeah. How did you know about it?”

“I remembered seeing a story about it on YouTube last year. They didn’t show your face, so of course I didn’t know it was you. But I figured it out when Olivia joined the game tonight and she blabbered on about being your sister. I’m sorry you received that hate. No one deserves that ever.” His voice was calming you now.

“Thank you. Olivia seemed to add to it, as well. Fuck, she’s just the worst person.” Family definitely had the ability to be shitty. “Meeting Poki last year really was the best thing. But also joining this Among Us group has been so good for me. Thank you for accepting me.”

“Of course. You’re a natural in the game but you also fit very well with the group.” Corpse really hoped you believed him because this was true. The group had a whole conversation about it when Olivia finally left

“I’m flattered. The Corpse Husband is telling me I fit in with him and his streamer friends. Wake me up, I must be dreaming.” You knew his words were genuine because it was just easy to tell.

“You better believe it, baby, because it’s true.”

You stopped short when you heard him call you baby. Of course Corpse had used that word before but right now it felt more intimate.

Letting out a yawn you realized it was nearing 4 am. “I appreciate it.” You mumbled, feeling the events from the day seep in.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” His deep voice was lulling you closer to sleep.

“No.” Another yawn broke through.

“You can’t lie to me, Y/n. Get some sleep and we will talk tomorrow.”

The words made you smile. “That sounds good, Corpsie. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweet girl.” Despite wanting to stay on the phone, you hung up. Sleep was quickly coming in to claim you. You can happily say you fell asleep with a huge smile on your face.

Waking up was easier than it had been in a long time. Normally you woke up to Olivia screaming at you or someone else. So it was nice to wake up to silence. It allowed you to relax and wake up properly.

Your phone buzzed from beside you. A text from Corpse is what you first saw, so you opened it.

Corpse

Good morning, sweet girl. I hope the night treated you well.

Sweet and to the point. His messages made you think he had a thing for you. Well you hoped he did but he also could just be treating you the way he treats friends.

Y/n

Yes, I slept well and for once I wasn’t awoken by my obnoxious sister.

It would he good not to live with her.

Corpse

I bet. Hey I hate to be the one to show you this, but your sister posted this on her instagram.

He then sent a link to the post. It made your blood boil.

::::

There was a picture of her, she was holding up a ripped picture of you. A huge frown was on her face.

oliviaxoxo It’s a shame when family starts to treat you like you weren’t the one to give them money when they needed it. This is my sister and she’s a bitch. For the last few years, she’s been the one editing my videos. Well I found out she was trying to sabotage me, so I had to fire her and kick her out. What a shame it is when family stabs you in the back. 🙃🙃

1,454,787 people like this

oliviafan23 Is this true? Damn, f*ck fake people.

queenolivia Sueeee herrrrr!

lovinliv Family ain’t shit. Spill her info so we can drag her.

sykkuwu Whoa, why are you spreading lies about your own family?

queenolivia Why would you defend someone like that?

valkyrea You’re such a sad human for doing this. Stop lying.

pokimanelol Let’s see, none of this is true. Your sister has done so much for you and you’ve never appreciated it. Get some help for this.

corpse_husband This is sick. No wonder your name is always blasted everywhere. Do your sister a favor and stop talking about her.

oliviaxoxo I don’t know why you’re defending my stupid sister, but that totally makes you not hot to me anymore. Ugh.

valkyrea Uh, that’s what you got from this. Wow, you’re not worth this.

corpse_husband What can you expect? The covid must have gone to her brain. |

corpseandlivfan Whyyyyyyy Corpse, why would you stand up for her. Do you not realize how horrible Y/n is? Please tell me this is a joke!?!?

corpse_husband Well, she’s a good friend of mine and I won’t let people make up lies. So it’s not a joke.

::::::::

You were mad that she’d even say this shit publicly, but you should have known she would. She was nothing without her group of misguided followers.

Y/n

Can’t say I’m not surprised. This is so on brand for her. Thank you for sticking up for me. It means a lot.

Corpse

I would do it any day. She shouldn’t be able to get away with doing that to you.

Sadly, growing up, she did get away with doing the absolute worst shit and you always received the brunt of it.

Y/n

With any luck, she draws negative attention.

You clicked the link to view it again but instead were lead to a page that said the content was unavailable.

Y/n

I believe she just deleted the post.

Corpse

Oh, she did. That’s awesome.

It was. Olivia was never one to swallow her pride and admit any wrongdoings. That means she would never delete a problematic post, but she finally did

Y/n

I didn’t really read any other comments besides you and your friends and the top comments. I can’t imagine what her fans are really saying.

Olivia was completely okay with letting her fans attack people. It was seriously a huge mess. She fell into the category of YouTuber with the worst most entitled attitude.

Corpse

It’s good you didn’t read them, because they were horrible. I can’t believe she would let her fans do that.

Y/n

She’s done a lot of shady stuff. This is even before she blew up on YouTube. There is a lot of issues between us.

There was a lot that could be said about your relationship with Olivia and none of them were good. Forever it seemed, you had tried to make it work and hoped your sister would grow up and change but it never happened.

Corpse

I think she’s a vile human. From what I have seen and her complete lack of human decency, I just can’t help but feel she’s just not a good person and she never will be.

He was right. She would never change.

Y/n

You’re right. Hey, I have to go thank Poki for letting me stay but I also need to go back to that apartment to get the rest of my stuff. Can I call you when I get back?

Corpse

Yes, of course. Good luck heading over there.

Talking to him was pretty natural feeling. It was clear now that you were getting a massive crush on him. You had a crush on a man who’s face you’ve never seen. You couldn’t help it though, his personality just meshed so well with yours. He’d made you feel safe and wanted.

After getting dressed, you found Poki in the kitchen making breakfast. She sent you a sweet smile when you entered the room.

“Thank you for standing up for me against my sister on Instagram.” You were truly honored this group of friends liked you enough to do something like this.

“You’re welcome. I couldn’t just let her say that and get away with it. She’s done a lot to you, that you don’t deserve. Corpse messaged all of us the minute he found it and we all jumped into action. Sean and Felix were getting ready to comment when she deleted it.” She explained as she set a plate in front of you.

“I’m so honored. Thank you!”

“Of course, you’re one of us now and we will never let her get away with this stuff anymore.”

You could just cry with how loved they were making you feel. This is what had been missing in your life. Friends who genuinely cared about you and wanted to protect you from the nasty stuff Olivia was capable of doing.

“Would you come with me to the apartment to get the rest of my stuff?” You asked once the two of you finished eating.

Poki nodded. “Of course I will. You shouldn’t have to go alone.”

An hour later, you exited the elevator on the floor where you once resided. Your sister wasn’t home, which would be good but there was a chance she could return while you were packing. But you would deal with that when it came down to it. The two of you quickly got to work, packing your life up into the boxes you’d brought with you. Luckily, you weren’t one to collect a ton of stuff. You mainly just had to make sure your clothes and makeup were packed up.

You and Poki would fill boxes and pile them by there door, then you would take them down to the car when you acquired a good amount. In the end, you figured you would fill maybe 10 boxes which is actually not too many considering you’ve lived in that apartment for five years.

Poki had left to go take two more boxes to the car while you finished up packing up your last few items. The front door closed, and you assumed it was Poki, but it wasn’t.

“Oh look who’s here? My lovely sister.” Olivia’s voice was flat and emotionless.

You rolled your eyes and turned to find her standing in the doorway, glaring at you. “Hello, Olivia. I’m just packing my stuff and then I’m leaving.”

“Who said you were allowed to come back here?” She grumbled, eyeing the boxes.

“Well, this is my stuff and I have every right to come pick it up.”

“If it’s in my apartment, it clearly belongs to me.” She snarled.

You snapped. “Cut it out, Olivia. This was my apartment too, until you kicked me out last night. You can’t just claim my stuff as your because you’re salty about me having friends.” She was a spoiled brat, and you were done letting her get away with it.

“I’m not the salty one. Everyone can see it’s you.” God she was so annoying. You taped up the last box and turned to her. She held her phone in her hand. “Everyone say hi to my sister. You know, the one I posted about earlier before someone reported my post.”

“Are you live?” You asked, keeping your face expressionless. Olivia would do this.

“I bet some of you remember the few videos I did with her. Well of course that was before she turned against me and decided she was going to try and ruin me. Say hi, Y/n.” A sick smile played on her face.

“I never consented to being in your live, Olivia. Please stop.” You tried to keep your voice calm so that she wouldn’t have any way to make you look like the bad person. But regardless, she was already doing it.

Olivia cackled. “Well I think I’m free to do as I please in my apartment.” You could only imagine what her fans were saying. “You’re right, Andrea, she is an idiot, and I should have her arrested.” She spoke aloud making your blood boil.

“You’re so immature, Olivia.” You grumbled before grabbing the last couple boxes and moving towards the door. Olivia decided to swat the boxes out of your hand, and they fell tumbling to the ground. “What the hell, Olivia. I could have fragile stuff in there.” You growled at her.

Olivia was just laughing. “This is funny. What else should I do, guys?” She asked as she panned the phone around the room.

Her immaturity was giving you a headache. Poki walked in and saw Olivia.

“Oh hey guys, look who’s here. Pokimane.” She panned the camera to Poki who frowned. Olivia just laughed and started talking shit until she was cut off by the stream just ending. “What the hell.”

You gathered the last few boxes, and Poki came to help while Olivia attempted to start another live.

“What the fuck, it won’t let me go live.” She growled while stomping her foot like a child.

“That’s what happens when an influx of people report your live.” Poki spoke as you both had gathered the boxes.

Olivia was frowning. “What did you do, Y/n.” She wanted to pounce at her, but Y/n and Poki were already at the door.

“Y/n did nothing, but I got word of your little livestream and contacted some friends for help. It will be at least 24 hours before you can have another live. But with the amount of people who reported you, well you may be banned for a while.” With that, you and Poki left Olivia standing there is absolute shock.

You and Poki put the last boxes in the car. “Thank you, Poki. How did you get so many people to report it?”

“Well it was actually Corpse. He texted me and informed me that she was doing a live and bothering you. He had his fans go report it, but apparently Sykkuno and Rae also sent their fans. I was going to send mine, but they had it handled. So this was all Corpse.” She explained.

Hearing this made you feel so soft for Corpse. “Awe wow. That’s so sweet of him.”

The two of you entered the car. “Y/n, can I tell you something without you telling him I told you?”

You looked over at her. “Yes, sure.” Your heart rate kind of picked up.

“Well the other day, Corpse admitted he has feelings for you, but he wasn’t completely sure if you felt the same way for him. But I mean I can clearly see you do. Your whole face just lit up when I mentioned him. So do you?”

Heat filled your face and you suddenly felt shy. “I do, yes. Which is ridiculous because I just met the guy, and I don’t even know what he looks like. But gosh, I like him so much. When I talk to him, I feel happy. He’s been so good to me through this crap with Olivia.” You admitted, knowing she already knew.

Poki smiled and squealed in complete happiness. “You two are just the most adorable people! It’s not ridiculous. We pretty much knew from the first time you joined us, that Corpse was into you. But oh my god, you’re into him. You need to tell him!!!!”

You agreed, Corpse deserved to know. “I do. But how? It’s been a really long time since I’ve told someone I liked them. Shit, I feel like I’m in high school again!”

This made Poki giggle. “Calm down, Y/n. I have a plan. Let’s get back to the apartment and we will talk about this. Rae also wants to be involved in this.”

Back at her apartment, you had jumped onto a call with Rae and the three of you talked about what your plan was for you to tell Corpse what you felt for him. Rae and Poki decided to organize an Among Us game strictly for fun and no one would stream, they would also use Proximity chat.

“So we will get him to follow you around until one of us is imposter, then we will lock you into wherever you end up. Do it then” Rae explained sounding so excited.

“Okay, that can work. Let’s do this!” You were nervous but also excited to finally do something good for yourself.

You and Poki set up for the gane and Corpse sent you a text.

Corpse

Are you joining the game tonight?

Seeing a text from him, made you feel giddy.

Y/n

Yep I am. So I will see you in game?

Corpse

Yes you will, angel.

Cue the insane butterflies.

The lobby loaded and it was you, Corpse, Poki, Rae, Sykkuno, Karl, Tina, Sean, Toast, and Leslie. All streamers you had grown to like a lot in the time you have been playing with them.

“Y/n, I am so happy you’re playing with us!” Tina gushed as her little character ran around yours.

“I’m happy to be here.” You really were.

“You’re sister is a piece of work, Y/n.” Sykkuno said.

You giggled. “Don’t I know it.”

“What did she do this time?” Sean asked.

“Decided to film a live when we went to get Y/n’s stuff from the apartment.” Poki explained.

“Oh, that’s gross.” Karl commented.

“I have to thank Corpse for helping.” You stated to the group.

“Yeah Corpse was quick to text us.” Sykkuno added.

“You’re welcome, Y/n. I wasn’t going to let her get away with what she was doing. Truth is, I got a bunch of fan DMs that were telling me what Olivia was doing. So a lot of my fans were already reporting it, but the tweet helped.” Corpse’s deep voice soothed you.

“I appreciate it so much. She was just being an immature brat as always.”

The group laughed before deciding to start the game. Poki and Rae agreed to text you when either of them were imposter. Now it was a matter of getting Corpse to follow you.

The group was on the Polus map, which seemed to be a favorite for everyone.

Rae

We should lock them in weapons.

Rae had texted you and Poki through the group text.

Poki

That’s the best place for them.

Y/n

Okay but I still have to get him to follow me.

Rae

He will. Just wait, I have a plan.

You trusted Rae and Poki to help you. Now it was time to admit it all to Corpse and hope he genuinely liked you back.

Y/n

Let’s do this!

PART THREE >>

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marvinator · 4 years ago

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what are your opinions on commander x-2? asking as a fellow marvin person

OH MY GAWD WELL You see I HAVE THEM. OK so to be clear i dont Hate commander x-2. I think he is funny guy and duck dodgers is a funny show with funny writing so like, its enjoyable. But my opinion is that commander x-2 is decidedly Not marvin the martian.

Which like, should be obvious i mean he's supposed to be marvin playing a character it says so in the intro. But the other characters,although they're also portrayed as "actors", feel more like themselves in a different setting. Duck dodgers still acts like chuck jones's arrogant and pitiful daffy duck (albeit more overtly stupid), and porky acts like the slightly meek but reasonable character he'd evolved into at that point.

Commander x-2, on the other hand, is a snarky straight man. (To be clear, yes i do also mean that kind of straight man.) Which is a fine enough role for the purposes of THIS SHOW, his characterization as pretentious and sarcastic make him a humorous foil to dodgers' blustering stupidity. BUUUHHTT, although marvin the martian is also an arrogant dweeb, his arrogance manifests differently than the standard cartoon smart-guy. Commander x2 is the type of person who will express his disdain for people with barely-masked sarcasm or in a lot of cases overt insults.

Marvin the martian, on the other hand, would never do this because one of his most defining traits besides being a freak is the fact that he is always ALWAYS polite, even when he is badmouthing an entire species and/or plotting its violent destruction.

i am sorry for the ifunny meme i can only put 1 video.

ANYWAYS yeah he's expressing the fact that he thinks humanity is a bunch of insignificant pests, but there is absolutely no malice here. He does not even know he is being a dick. That's part of the joke: he's an unhinged megalomaniac, but he's not only completely oblivious to this but he also refuses to speak unkindly to or about anyone and that's the only hill he's going to die on. The most aggressive thing he says, at least in the older cartoons, is the iconic "you have made me VERY angry very angry indeed" which is funny for a couple reasons: 1) his whole character is that he is always dissonantly serene and polite and 2) nobody says that. But note that even in his least-collected moments he's never directly insulting the adversary: he's employing the good ol' therapy "'I' statement" to express his rare moments of outward anger without breakjng his dubious code of honor that is never saying a rude word. Commander x-2, on the other hand, would just call you a bungling oaf, because he is a normal person.

And that's really the core of why commander x-2 feels so far removed from Marvin, is that he's just a normal guy. A pitiful, kinda dweebish one, but otherwise pretty well-adjusted, even going beyond the points i just made. Commander x2 destroys earth because he's a military commander and his government told him to, marvin the martian destroys earth because it's blocking his view of venus. Commander x2 is in love with an attractive woman, marvin the martian is in love with his giant lazer. (And yeah marvin is named as commander x-2 in "the hasty hare" and does allude to being directed by some form of authority, but that concept has pretty much been dropped outside of his namesake from the duck dodgers cartoon, and he's later portrayed as being viewed as a destructive crackpot even among his own alien kind.) Bottom line is, marvin the martian is a FREAK!!! And this characterization is sadly dropped in the duck dodgers cartoon for something more conventional. Which, again, works for the show, but it's not the same. In conclusion:

#Thank you for asking me this i am always thinking about this. Finally an outlet.#i am also not tagging this one whoever finds it finds it

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nastyburger · 4 years ago

Note

Is Freakshow/Circus Gothica/Control Freaks going to be a part of your reboot? And if that is the case, are there any differences compared to the series?

it is! i do want danny to have a sorta grim reaper type of vibe associated with him so i feel that episodes pretty integral to that lol.

i havent put too much thought into how i want the events to play out in that episode yet, but one change for sure is that freakshow doesnt know danny is a halfa. he just thinks danny is a ghost whose “gimmick” is appearing human/having a human disguise (so he has no qualms with actually kidnapping a human child to be in his circus lol he literally just doesnt know). he merely goes to amity because he heard rumors of an influx of ghost in the area and decides to go round up some extra performers, danny just so happens to be one of the ghosts that gets picked up.

(rest of post under cut because this ended up being long as hell lol)

freakshow is, however, manipulated into keeping danny’s secret identity after the fact despite not fully understanding it. ghosts in the nasty reboot abide by certain honor codes sorta preprogrammed into them from the moment they form. halfas are a little out of that jurisdiction and dont get that same preprogramming, but the ghosts generally agree that revealing danny’s secret is a no go.

a ghost’s death is a bit of a sore subject, you wouldnt talk about it in any way the ghost doesn’t want you to (which is usually not at all). danny’s secret identity technically falls under this umbrella, he doesnt want humans to know he’s (half) dead and still lives among them. therefore, don’t reveal to the humans that he’s dead and jeopardize his situation! its not quite the same as a ghost momentarily pretending to be human to fulfill something (like spectra or johnny), danny’s human identity is directly tied to his “death” and would be even more so if its revealed so its off limits. the situation is definitely a bit unfamiliar to the ghosts, and its something sorta more “learned” than the usual “i just know not to do this” instinct but they still do their best to up hold the honor code for danny!

freakshow doesnt have the same “ghost envy” as canon because i think thats dumb, but he does still want to play by ghost rules for one reason or another so danny telling him about this rule is more than enough to keep his mouth shut.

one last thing is how the control staff affects danny. danny in the nb boot has a lot of themes of “figuring himself out” in terms of both what it means to be a halfa (in that larger than life where his place is in the world if it isnt with either the living or the dead type thing) and who he is as a person (in the more down-to-earth he is literally an adolescent changing as a part of growing up type thing). one big recurring moral to this character arc is that NO ONE ELSE can tell danny what to be, he has to figure it out 100% on his own. he can have help, and he can have nudges, but it all has to come down to what he decides for himself and what he learns about it. he cant listen to his parent’s biases and what their theories for phantom and what he is, he cant listen to the ghost for what they think is best for his biology, hell he cant and shouldnt even listen to what vlad says about them being halfas most of the time because they have completely different experiences.

danny shouldnt be completely influenced by outside sources when figuring out who he wants or needs to be. the staff in this episode is basically just a very big obvious focus plot point in a very literal sense for this exact moral.

danny does sorta still have free will while being controlled by the staff, and i do mean a little beyond the usual “easier to break out of the spell” kind of thing. i believe monotype-on-phantom had an analysis similar to what im describing here, but basically danny is not a mindless zombie while controlled by the staff. he carries out orders and does freakshow’s bidding for sure, but he still has half a mind and probably carries out orders with more intelligence/thought than a ghost blindly following orders.

for example, freakshow could tell danny to rob a bank and he would do just that. but danny, without orders, would also try to hide his tracks, actually try to steal discreetly as to not get caught. something the other ghosts wouldnt think to do because they cant think! in canon, it seems that he even actually commands the other controlled ghosts in these robberies like a leader. its likely that he wasnt prompted to do this with a command, thats just his leftover free will allowing some of danny’s personality to shine through in the tasks. even though danny would obviously not rob a bank on his own accord, if he did, it would likely be exactly how he carried it out while controlled by the staff.

danny very much has leftover feelings after being controlled, he could vaguely remember making decisions and going through with them. some regrets, some satisfaction, its a whole mess of things intertwining with what he did want to do and what he didnt want but kinda did but also kinda didnt. its all about influence and how especially powerful it is when someone still impressionable is subjected to it like say, a fourteen year old child.

#nasty reboot #control freaks #i mostly talked about situation/lore surrounding that ep instead of actual events lmaoo #seance #Anonymous

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scarlettaagni · 4 years ago

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Kandore (Lancer)

Kandore is the current clan leader of the Half-Heart Clan. He was named for his proficiency with the combistick as his signature weapon, as well as general skill with pole-like weapons.

As a child in the Agoge, he failed many times at stealing under his teachers’ watch and thus was given lashes as punishments for his failures. However, he never cried, no matter how hard the teachers tried to get a plea for mercy out of him. He was rarely given special treatment despite being a son of the clan leader, rather, because he must prepare for a higher position in life, he must work to fulfill the higher expectations. Kandore was only spoiled with the privilege of affording Elites to be his personal tutors and teachers.

His father Kachare had many children before and after Kandore, but noticing the boy’s pragmatism, charisma, confidence, and ability to take command of situations, named Kandore his heir.

In his youth, a local Hunter dominated the local arena through multiple victorious deathmatches in a row. Up to task, Kandore challenged him after observing him from afar. Right before their match, he and Kandore had a traditional good-natured exchange. The undefeated champion put his fist against Kandore’s chest, a common pre-fight goodwill gesture, but proceeded to expand the combistick hidden in his hand, intending on skewering Kandore’s head at the very start of the match. Though this is how he had managed to become the undefeated champion, Kandore had enough foresight to dodge the blow, receiving only a gash up the left side of his head. Half-blinded from the blood gushing out of his wound, Kandore killed the champion, and decided to take the move for himself.

Though named heir, meaning he will inherit the position once Kachare dies, Kandore took it upon himself to speed up the process and challenged his aging father for it instead. He believed he was ready for the job as he was, that Kachare had already grown old and unfit for it, and he did not want to “waste time”. Engaging in a public deathmatch, Kandore fairly slew his own father with a stab through the chest and a cut across the belly, decapitating Kachare as is tradition and received the leadership at an unconventionally young age.

Kandore’s taking of the position was controversial among the Half-Heart Clan, due to the fight being completely fair, honorable, and with legal precedent, but also seen as wholly unnecessary because he was already publicly declared the heir. While it’s happened before, an heir wishing to claim the leadership from their parent is often seen as a sign of impulsivity or impatience, qualities not looked upon favorably. Aware it may not be a popular move or start to his command over the clan, he worked on relations and built a reputation on being a personable and forgiving, but strict when he must be, leader.

Most of the clan have never met him personally, or held more than five conversations with him. As a result, they don’t know that while polite, his niceties are for show, and his forgiveness comes with strings attached. Kandore shows mercy and gives privileges in order to both endear himself to people, but also to hold these favors hostage and threaten taking them away should the other party not play along, or do something he doesn’t like. Though, sometimes, on a whim, he’ll do a nice thing for someone without expecting anything back, usually when it’s at no cost to himself or the clan at large. This is rare as he considers wasting his time and resources as a cost to himself/the clan, but he occasionally thinks better on it.

Kandore is a skilled manipulator, and excellent at reading people. During interactions, Kandore is constantly multitasking by carrying the conversation, observing the other person’s reactions to what he says, and recalling previous knowledge about them. By experimenting with topics during conversation, he easily gleans their berserk buttons and soft spots to take advantage of and use should he feel the need to. He even conducts personal or ordered research on Half-Heart clan members to learn more about them, and even on Yautja from other clans should they be relevant. In all situations, Kandore continually formulates plans to find a way he will benefit from the outcome in some form, no matter what.

He traps his subjects within societal conventions, where he will code his polite words with underlying messages and implications. While he continues to either deliberately passive-aggressively dig at them, or simply say things with a tone that implies something, he will not make an obvious attack or insult. The other person is allowed to make dirty looks all they like, or respond with a tone of hatred, but the instant they voice their disdain for him aloud, no subtext, he will instantly counter with a scathing retort. Kandore has reduced grown men to tears with his sharp tongue in this way.

No one knows what makes Kandore tick, and no one has ever managed to hurt his feelings the way he hurts others’, or scrape his ego in a way he could not recover instantly from. He is seemingly untouchable and almost seems devoid of emotion in a way, only capable of smug amusement. Many conclude you can’t hurt his feelings because he doesn’t have any. In truth, he is just very in control of his emotions.

Often challenged for his position by strangers, as he had challenged Kachare, he uses that hidden combistick move to end the matches quickly. This too, is a controversial action among the clan. Kandore insists it is a valid strategy, as he considers the start of a fight to be when the challenge is issued, not when the first blow is dealt. Even if his opponents know of the infamous move and dodge it, Kandore’s skill and strength as his bite is enough to substantiate his bark, and he is consequently undefeated. Basically, he talks a lot of shit, thinks he’s hot shit, but he fights like it, too.

He inherited his father’s Ancient advisor, Zazin, who he came to understand as a bleeding heart. Respecting his wisdom, Kandore takes his advice seriously, though dismisses his more “soft” suggestions. Though they can both sense hostility or unspoken disagreement between themselves, they do work as a team to govern the Half-Heart Clan, and often stick by one another when questioned.

Kandore keeps his father’s skull in his quarters, to “keep himself humble”, but jokes that it doesn’t work. He talks to the skull, but no one knows what he says to it, or if he’s expecting anything to be said back. When criticized for killing his father, Kandore will coldly state Kachare died because he was already unworthy of the title, thus he had to give it up right then, a sentiment shared by most Yautja. But otherwise, people such as Zazin or Lo’bane note he seems subdued, crestfallen, unusually quiet and lacking a sharp tongue when his father or his father’s death is brought up. Despite this, any attempts to weaponize his father’s death against him fails.

When in situations he cannot control, Kandore tends to spiral via uncontrollable humor as a coping mechanism. Humor normally keeps him in charge by keeping others enraged or distracted, making them easier to manipulate and shows his ease and confidence. It shows that he has so much control of the situation/conversation, he can mess around and still stay on top of things.

When in a pleasant mood, he fidgets with his quills, rubbing a single lock between his fingers or twirling it around his pointer finger.

He does not hate the Odd Crests, only appearing so because he can be much more transparent with them. As a social pariah, the Odd Crests are openly treated with ridicule, contempt, and scrutiny, and as such, he can tease them how he likes. The Odd Crests have glaring sore points and insecurities, thus theoretically malleable, though wise to Kandore’s true nature, they often resist. However, he has shown them more mercy than any other clan leader would. Any other leader would have exiled them, or declared the entire family Bad Blood, but Kandore allows them to stay as they are and does not go out of his way to mess with them. As such, while they are privy to his true nature, they cannot afford to call him out or openly voice their disdain for him. He just likes to get a rise out of them whenever he talks to them.

When Halkrath’s sons died, Kandore and Zazin delivered the news to the Odd Crest household, as well as transporting him back home, and ordering further excavation to recover the sons’ bodies and belongings. The incident landed the Half-Hearts in trouble with some of the other clans, as the Half-Heart’s mistake could have cost the lives of Yautja from other clans that were nearby. Kandore and Zazin defended Halkrath, stating that while he will be named legally responsible for the Xenomorph infestation, it was acknowledged as a freak accident and was quickly dealt with by Half-Heart enforcers. Kandore allowed a personal several-decade embargo on using the incident to his advantage, though did not hide his disdain for/disappointment with Halkrath’s recklessness, besmirching his own family and embarrassing the clan once again.

Kandore is off-put by Luar-ke and Lo’bane, specifically Lo’bane, so he asked that whenever the Odd Crests see him, that only M’hsi or Vosandi attend, with Halkrath’s presence a must. It’s just a preference, and a soft suggestion, not an order. The only one better than Kandore at figuring out people’s deals is Lo’bane, who figures it out via observation and eavesdropping, not conversation. Lo’bane has Kandore’s number, and he deliberately avoids him. When once left alone with the 50 year old, Kandore ran out of the room in tears.

When M’hsi approached him and demanded an opportunity to restore her family’s honor, Kandore thought she intended on just restoring her father’s name on his behalf and planned on allowing her to do so. When she corrected him and stated she wanted to absolve the dishonor of every dishonored member of her family, and not just her father, Kandore was taken aback and found the idea completely ridiculous. Jokingly, he suggested, in a bad faith interpretation of her request, that she go on a Hunt for each disgraced member, do better than they had, complete her Blooding ritual, and then her family’s honor debt will be forgiven.

Shocked she actually accepted this challenge, he examined the outcomes of the situation and decided that if she died, then it’s one less Odd Crest to further disgrace the family (and thus his clan) and one less unworthy Hunter. If she was to succeed, then he can welcome back a courageous Hunter he is responsible for creating.

Despite her parents and Zazin’s pleas to reconsider, Kandore refused as M’hsi had already accepted, and she similarly refused to back down. Kandore went to work arranging the trip, hiring craftsmen to fashion M’hsi her custom armor and approving weapons for her to choose from. As is tradition, only those related to M’hsi were allowed to attend, thus Lo’bane was able to attend but kept home as per Kandore’s request (and as his parents decided it might be too upsetting to see her off). A guard was issued to supervise them as they normally do, but specifically to keep an eye on Halkrath.

Acting as if nothing was off, or upsetting, Kandore escorted M’hsi through rooms where he and Zazin assisted in suiting her up in her commissioned armor, watching her try out the preapproved weapons (to which Kandore expressed amusement at her choice), and bringing her before the scout ship. He managed to fit one more jab in by wishing her luck before she boarded the ship.

As clan leader, Kandore stayed on Yautja Prime to govern the clan and remotely observe M’hsi’s Hunts, while Zazin monitors M’hsi in the scout ship on Earth.

#nerd stuff #my art #scarletta doodles #OCs #Kandore #Kachare

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cinenthusiast · 6 years ago

Text

Previous Top Ten By Year lists: 1935, 1983, 1965, 1943, 1992, 1978, 1925, 1969 1930

Previous Top Ten By Year: 1949 Posts: Top Ten By Year: 1949 – Poll Results 100 Images from the Films of 1949 What I’ll Remember About the Films of 1949: A Love Letter #10. The Queen of Spades (UK/Dickinson) #9. Rendezvous in July (Becker)/Au royaume des cieux (Duvivier) (France) #8. Too Late for Tears (US / Haskin) #7. The Heiress (US / Wyler) #6. The Set-Up (US / Wise) #5. Caught (US / Ophüls) #4. The Passionate Friends (UK / Lean) #3. Puce Moment (US / Anger) #2. The Third Man (UK / Reed)

For those unaware of my Top Ten By Year project: The majority of my viewing habits have been dictated by this project since September of 2013. Jumping to a different decade each time, I choose comparatively weaker years for me re: quantity of films seen/quantity of films loved. I use list-making as a way to see more films and revisit others in a structured and project-drive way. I was sick of spending too much time trying to decide what to watch, or watching films just to cross them off another dumb canon list. I wanted to engage. I wanted films to be enhanced by others, by looking at a specific moment in time. I wanted something that led me to seeing or revisiting things I might not have gotten to otherwise. Lastly, my lists are based on personal favorites, not any weird notion of an objective best.

This is the first year I’ll be doing separate posts for each film. #9 will go up Monday. After that, one will go up each day until the end. Then I’ll post them all together so they are gathered in one place. There are a lot of films I loved that did not make the cut. In particular, Flamingo Road, Such a Pretty Little Beach, On the Town, Inspirace, The Reckless Moment, Reign of Terror, The Rocking Horse Winner, and Samson and Delilah are all films I thought at one point would be on here. Of all of these, Flamingo Road was a sure thing until it wasn’t at the very last minute. Please go watch it.

#1. Bitter Rice (Italy / De Santis) (first-time watch)

Two women and two cultures intertwined.

There are two sides to Bitter Rice. One has neorealism, Silvana, and Italy. The other has film noir, Francesca, and America. When all is said and done these two women will have swapped places, for better and much worse. And when Italy’s other neorealist filmmakers see Bitter Rice, they will take it as a betrayal of truth and the political. In short, they hated it. In this time of crucial political upheaval when neorealism carried legitimate cultural cache, director Giuseppe De Santis had made something too slick, too tawdry, and too American. The message was tarnished by the method. But De Santis was a Marxist who happened to admire and study John Ford, King Vidor, and the visual patterns of Hollywood studio filmmaking. He saw mass appeal as a way to both entertain and denounce, and made a film in which neorealism is hijacked and reconfigurated to be a noir melodrama.

Bitter Rice has a lot of recognizably neorealist markers; location shooting, a focus on labor and economic struggle, the tactile particulars of rice worker life, and the use of the specific cultural practices such as the choral Coralita. The sound of women wading through water, the way it would around their legs, and the strain of being hunched over day after day — it’s all made vivid. But it is easy to see why Bitter Rice would seem a betrayal. Its mutinous synthesis of “authenticity” and artificiality was a signpost towards neorealism’s end. Soon there would be stars, genre, production in the Italian film industry.

The synthesis is clear from the very first scene. The authenticity of the mondine (female rice workers) is introduced with grandiosity and sweep. There are no docu-elements here, but plenty of elaborate tracking and crane shots to go around, the kind of gradually encompassing images you’d be more likely to find in a DeMille epic. Watching the very first scene I thought: “Wait — what am I in for?”. All preconceived notions were immediately scrapped, and I realized my trip to the rice fields of Po Valley would be a very different one indeed. Then, a couple carrying stolen jewels are chased into the station waiting to transport the workers to the fields. Their arrival feels like an alien invasion, as if some freak chemical accident at the film lab spilled one film into another. This dichotomy plays throughout with electric and arresting cohesion, making it so distinctly unlike any other film from its movement.

While De Santis was inspired by the Hollywood narrative format, he also uses American culture’s insidious postwar presence to illustrate the dangers of breaking from solidarity for hollow (the fake jewels!) individual gain. This is done using the two incredible and complex women of Bitter Rice‘s center. After Francesca the Moll (Doris Dowling, an American actress) is forced to assimilate in the rice fields, she finds purpose among the mondine. In order to stay in hiding, she has to advocate for the rights of her fellow non-contract workers. But this is never done as a means to an end. Francesca never schemes to stay on; she is always shown as sincerely leading the protests for the group. Life becomes bigger than herself, and she learns to stand both as her own woman, and as part of the mondine.

Francesca also begins to see her personal life more clearly. You get the sense that despite loving Walter (Vittorio Gassman), she is not blind to how reprehensible he is (I mean, in the first scene he literally used her as a human shield so….). But she had nowhere to go, and no strength to pull away. Life in Po Valley gives her that strength. The value of the collective is present throughout, with choral scenes, aerial shots showcasing the lines of working women linked together, and fragments of peripheral characters and their various troubles. They push themselves to the brink under oppressive conditions just to make it to the next job, and there is power in their (at times friction-filled) solidarity (I was also reminded of last year’s Support the Girls, also about a community of women united by unforgiving labor).

Then there is the shrewd but naive young Silvana (Silvana Mangano, who I’ll talk about later), a peasant that dreams of wealth. She is seduced by all things coded America and money (she should talk to Caught’s Leonora!). We first meet her doing the boogie woogie (she does a lot of dancing, employed for seduction and statement). In this group of women, where everyone is introduced as part of a whole, she immediately stands out as modern. She chews gum, loves big-band, and is seen reading photo-romances, the then-popular prepackaged fantasies that were read by lower and working class Italian women. Silvana wants out; she longs for adventure, riches, and a certain kind of romance. But the way out that presents itself is a different kind of way out, and she is too blinded by inexperience to understand it.

The camera links Francesca and Silvana all the time. Whether in two-shots or individual spaces, there is an invisible tether between them. Their lives and fates take part in a film-length body-swap. Silvana talks about fate a lot, but is seen making deliberate choices towards certain doom. She can’t see Walter for what he is — an exploiter and a monster. But Francesca gives her an out, replaying about her life with Walter and the terrible things he has done. She tries to take the abuse and hardship she lived through and save someone else from making the mistakes she did. But Silvana can’t see past the jewels and the suit. There is only the potential for excitement, for something that is not this. After all, Walter “looks like a gentleman” (aka a hotshot gumshoe); so he must be, right? While Francesca’s transformation is one of victorious camaraderie, Silvana’s (both actress and character) is altogether much murkier; one marked by punishment.

Silvana Mangano never wanted her body to represent the whole of Italy, but it did. Audiences were scandalized just seeing the unapologetically full female form (au natural, code for Armpit Hair), the kind that becomes sexualized simply by existing. She was the prototype of the “earthy women” that would cause such a stir overseas (later embodied by Gina Lollobrigida and Sophia Loren). She started out by winning Miss Rome, a post-war contest that further enhanced the idea of body-as-nation, and an honor that became synonymous with future screen tests. Unlike Lollobrigida and Loren, Mangano didn’t cash in on overseas notoriety for a Hollywood career. She became resentful of her image, and of fame, eventually giving herself a drastic reinvention (her figure was now svelte and arch, her look cold) and starring in art films by Pasolini and Visconti in the late 1960s and 1970s (and Dune!).

The camera doesn’t ogle Mangano Tex Avery style; this isn’t Jane Russell in The Outlaw. But it aims to stay back, taking in the whole of her whenever possible. And you can’t help but take part in that — I love looking at her. She is the textbook case for why the male gaze is not an open-and-shut. For all its appallingly absolute authority on the almost-whole of filmic language, women enjoy it too! One of the great joys of watching films is watching bodies, both male and female. I am hypnotized and, yes, completely turned on by Silvana Mangano in Bitter Rice. The camera may not be that Tex Avery wolf, but I’ll admit that I am.

Critics felt her body, and Bitter Rice’s eroticism as represented by her, cheapened the film and nullified its political message. Yet a crucial part of its political message is the punishment her and her body endures for betraying the homeland (a tactic that opens up a whole other can of worms). She is eroticized, symbolic, made into a cautionary tale. Her final fugue march is just like Ann Todd’s in The Passionate Friends. Claude Rains gets there in time. Francesca cannot.

(TW: rape)

She is raped. It is a rape that takes away her body. We don’t see much of it after that. In those last thirty minutes she is made up of haunted black pupils, lit like she’s telling a ghost story. She is immediately ostracized by the filmmaking, quarantined off in shots of the mondine in ways you feel more than see. It’s not obvious, but intrinsic and heartbreaking. The most startling example takes place immediately following her assault. It is pouring out (during these scenes a stunning rain shower falls right in front of the camera like a curtain) and the women have banded together, refusing to let the weather set them behind schedule. Silvana walks in a daze, confused and in shock. Ahead, a sick woman who shouldn’t be out in her condition begins having an attack. She howls out, and begins writhing in pain as the women surround her and hold her down. They begin to sing in an attempt to calm her (they are all one). Silvana looks on in horror. This is a mirror image of what she just went through, her trauma reflecting right back at her. She is watching herself. She begins to scream. She is drowned out, not part of the coralita, not part of anything anymore. Her cries go unheard.

The meat locker finale is one last compare-and-contrast session. Both women have guns. Both women have a man beside them. One is shaking and shaken. The other is determined and resolute. Francesca is still trying to save the other end of the tether. There is something so moving and uncommon in Francesca’s committed efforts to protect Silvana despite the harm she causes and rivalry she insists on. It’s hard to put into words how much I love these women, these characters, these performances. Bitter Rice pays such close attention to how women communicate with each other (in both speech and body language, the silent glares and stares may as well be full conversations), and to the breadth of female experience, struggle, and loyalty. We see how hard it is for Francesca to break away from Walter. We see that Silvana’s sense of right and wrong are muddied by what she wants out of life. We see that Silvana’s actions are not unfeeling; there is such pain on her face as she undoes the mondine’s hard work. The list goes on as more layers are pulled back.

Watching Bitter Rice is that all-too rare sensation of not knowing where a film is headed, or what story it will tell (unless you’ve read this before watching). Francesca and Silvana are often hard to read. By the end, that body swap trajectory is clear, but only at the end. And despite the larger-than-life symbolic statuses they represent, they are two of the most layered and human women I’ve ever seen onscreen. They don’t fit into any neat box — not within neorealism, and not within noir. Francesca and Silvana are with me now, and I’m the better for it.

Top Ten By Year: 1949 #1 – Bitter Rice (Italy / De Santis) Previous Top Ten By Year lists: 1935, 1983, 1965, 1943, 1992,

#bitter rice #doris dowling #giuseppe de santis #Italy #neorealism #silvana mangano

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beautifulterriblequeen · 6 years ago

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Autistic Sherlock - The Sign of Three

See, this episode always bugged the hell out of me. The whole wedding participation thing did, tbh. No sociopath would be okay with a third party horning in on their groomed pet like Mary does, no matter how much time Sherlock was out of the country.

But Sherlock sees who Mary is, to some degree at first, enough to know that she’s good for him. And, bonus, she approves of Sherlock, too! How rare and delightful for him! Sherlock’s been away for a really long time, and part of his adjustment to Baker Street, and to John, just naturally includes Mary. He didn’t plan it that way. But he’s doing a shit ton of adjustments anyway, and Mary is a nice adjustment to add in. She’s like John mixed with Molly, and Sherlock likes both of those people.

But then Sherlock throws himself into the wedding planning. Again, not a sociopath’s thing. They might pretend for a while, but they’d devolve into finger pointing and delegating and general slacking off while claiming to be doing the most work. Sherlock actually is doing the most work. As an autistic person, he’s aware that weddings are important to people in general, and he would like his best friend to have the best wedding possible. After all, he’s been tasked with being the best man--an honor he never conceived of. He knows he’s not solid best man material. His speech at the wedding straight out admits it. So he feels he must do all he can to contribute to a good wedding day in every other way possible.

That’s why he’s so protective of Mary. Because John loves her. Sherlock scares away her stalkery ex to smooth the day. He shows the creepy ring bearer boy corpsy pictures to get him to agree to wear fancy dress--the easiest of tasks, really--to smooth the day. He YouTubes serviette folding to smooth the day. Sherlock’s all at sea with caring for loved ones, but he does everything he can think of to give John and Mary a lovely memory.

His wedding speech is all over the map--he’s uncomfortable in the limelight for press articles, but giving a live speech is new territory, and he has to feel his way through, and gets a lot of it wrong, keeps pausing, freaking out, trying to cover for himself. He skips 80% of the telegrams. He pisses all over weddings in general, then pivots it into an admission that he’s not a good kind of person, in contrast to John, who is the wisest and kindest and bravest person he knows. Sherlock knows who he is. And that’s a sea change from Season 2. He knows the kinds of things he should be saying. He just has trouble remembering it all when he’s under the stress of the limelight.

I feel like, in the two years Sherlock was destroying Moriarty’s network around the world, he was exposed to a huge variety of human behaviors, much of it selfish and violent. Sherlock had to do a constant, convincing job of role play, which meant he had to be paying attention to human nature as if he were streaming it on Netflix in a constant bingewatch of emotions and behaviors. And, in his down time, during the few hours of sleep he caught here or there, he processed the contrasts he encountered.

John Watson: brave, selfless, dedicated, generous, empathetic, moral compass, steady nerves, solid human being.

Everyone else: missing at least one good trait. Sometimes, missing all of them.

Sherlock had to encounter plenty of people who consciously acted in ways that he himself had unthinkingly acted toward John. He was on the receiving end of their casual cruelty, their unthinking dismissal, their selfish choices. He did what he had to do to survive. But it was never fun. He didn’t like it. He knew John wouldn’t have liked it. In fact, he knew John hadn’t liked it.

Two years living among the worst criminals on the planet, and Sherlock Holmes ends up soul-searching in the dark. He clings to John’s example in the wee hours and the pissy alleys and the glass-enclosed boardrooms on the 38th floor. He marks John’s character in indelible ink, in steel and stone, in his own blood. In order to do what he must, and to come back intact, Sherlock must envision John’s character, John’s values, every minute of every day.

Autistic people mirror those around them. It’s how we communicate. We learn the allistic world by imitating it. Even a few hours with a new crowd, where emotions are high and physical action is involved, is enough to flick an autistic’s mimic switch into the Record position. We become a different person, and it lingers. We’re constantly code switching to get by. Who do you need me to be? How do I get through this? How do I ask for what I want from you versus them? How do I avoid embarrassment, danger, death? Who do I need to be today? Some days, we don’t remember, and we’re the wrong person. Some days, we need a John Watson to remind us who to be.

Two years of criminal companions would have corrupted Sherlock’s morals to a dangerous degree if he had not taken precautions ahead of time. But he always intended to return to London and to Baker Street and to John Watson. He intended to return as he left, as Sherlock Holmes.

He didn’t return the same, though. He returned a better man. Because of John.

He’s more self-aware in his conversation, even initiating some humor that doesn’t fall flat. He’s been practicing, thinking it through. He’s been working very hard on being Good Sherlock, for John’s sake. He wants his Byronian-curls haircut, his coat, his crime solving, his landlady, and his flatmate, all as it was, exactly the same. He won’t risk becoming a lesser person that John wouldn’t approve of in his two years away. John has made his life rewarding in ways he couldn’t have predicted. He’d never give it up willingly. Only for John’s sake would he consider changing anything. But it’s clear it disconcerts him to think of John not living with him anymore at Baker Street.

His vow--no sociopath would vow anything like that. Not to mean it. But Sherlock does mean it. John has been his moral center. He’s spent two years holding to John’s memory. There’s no way he’s giving it up, so his only option is to embrace Mary as well. Conveniently, he likes her, and she likes him, so it’s easy. I think Sherlock would protect anyone that John loved. But Mary is interesting in her own right, and Sherlock only makes a vow to protect her because he genuinely wants her in his life.

He’s out of his depth with marriage and relationships. All he knows is that he wants to stay close to John, his allistic friend, who helps him be a more rounded person. Because he likes who he is, how he lives, more when he’s with John than when he’s without him.

“I’d be lost without my blogger.”

#sherlock theory #sherlock #autistic!sherlock

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epicfics · 7 years ago

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Humans Fic: 15 After Zero - 3) Humans Are Red, Synths are Blue

My black boot heels scrape the grainy pavement in a rush to get inside. There is no avoiding it – no matter how swiftly night is falling upon us, the sight of Leo Elster dragging a dead Synth through town is going to bring out stares fiercer than the burning sun. I don’t know where we’re going, but from what I understand, if you want to survive among humans but remain within proximity to Synths, renting a flat on the town boundary line will bring you close enough to the forests, which they have taken over.

My father is gaunt, especially pale under the glow of slivered moon. He doesn’t speak to me, except to direct me occasionally with left or right. Meanwhile, the Synth’s right arm makes a stiff, upside down L across my neck. He isn’t too heavy for me, but I’m also cursedly petite in comparison.

The town walls are within sight, we must be nearly there – but then the roll of cries begins, as high-pitched as opera and as incessant as a lawn mower. I wince at my twinging ears; I hear the words, “Play with your dollies in prison!” and “Go jump in a lake, Elster!”

Leo’s head does not turn, but I’d be happy to do so myself and deck who ever shouted that last blow. Telling someone who’s already drowned in a lake once to do it again is unforgivably redundant.

It turns out I am right about Leo living close to York’s walls. But I expected a proper flat, small, somewhat untidy. Maybe with an emo-looking cat inside. Instead, my father lives in a rusty shed, the size of Stonehenge in a box. When we reach it, he carefully slips out from under the dead Synth’s left arm to dig a small key out from his jeans. While he twists it into the padlock that chains the shed door to a drilled spike in the ground, he says without looking at me, “How’re you holding up with him there?”

My first impulse is to lie so that he’ll hurry up. Honestly, I barely feel weighted down. Not just by this Synth, but by objects in general. It’s one of the less irksome things about being me; I can grab as many books as I want from the library and Mum can get all of the groceries out of the car sooner. Of course, since I’m not allowed to show my freak flag to anyone outside of the safe home that she’s strived to create for me, I have to feign weakness.

And now, for once, I’m away from home and I don’t have to lie about it. Unfazed by my thoughtful silence, Leo, apparently already knowing the answer to the question before he asked it, pulled the door to the shed open and walked into a dark world smelling of paint and dirt. A bit apprehensive, I take slow steps forward, the Synth hanging on my back like a bulky cape of rocks. My father turns around – this time, he does look at me – and says gruffly, “Get him in here so I can turn on the light. And close the door,” he adds as I finish scuffling in. “No one can see what we’re doing.”

And what are we doing? I’ll admit, I haven’t thought so far ahead, as I’ve been in a rare state of shock for most of this day. It has briefly occurred to me that we might be honoring this Synth with a funeral.

This Synth…there were several Synths lying dead on the street from where we took him. We only took one. Why?

Compartmentalising, I hand the Synth off to Leo and do as he says. Once the giant glass bulb dangling from the ceiling is radiating a ghostly white light, I even take a dust-caked line of rope and tie it from the shed handle to a hook on each side.

Leo sees this and nods approvingly, and I look at what he’s done. The body is lying across a table, connected to a computer screen, flickering with coloured coding, stationed above his head. An experiment? Looking down at his subject, I hear an unintelligible curse muttered, and Leo snatches a large pair of shears from the ground behind him.

“Louisa.” I start, the thrill of proof that he knows my name instantly shot down by an order. “Take these, cut his clothes off.”

“What?” I can put up with a lot, but this is weird even for me.

He approaches me, holding out the shears at an angle. “We don’t have time. Just…trust me, okay?”

With a bobblehead’s nod, I accept the shears. An odd look in his eyes, he raises his hand, and it wavers above my hair. No sooner do I realise he’s aiming for an affectionate gesture than he withdraws it and walks away.

My heart sinks. I won’t cry, not for the second time in front of him. Willing my focus to take over, I begin with detachment to cut away the Synth’s khakis.

I remember what Mum says. Have I mentioned yet how he was barely a better boyfriend to her than he is a father to me? I’m not surprised. I’m not. I’m just…disappointed, all the same.

My hands smoothly guide the shear blades up the pant leg. This is alright, I think, until I draw near the more private area. An inexplicable chill touches me – a fear that spreads through my lungs like liquid nitrogen. I hadn’t noticed before, hadn’t put my hands around the legs deep enough, but they are protruding with metal splinters from the thigh down. They have stuck my hands, and now my fingers are smeared with red blood and the same, sick blue of a Synth’s.

I stare, horrified. “No.” I smell something foreign, chemical, like bleach and rubber and metal…my head is high but my feet are down, my head is high but my feet are down.

Leo, who’d been assembling various tool for God knows what reason, looks back at me and yelps. As I shake feebly, my head spinning, he’s whipping a smudged white rag out of a box and running it over to a plastic jug of water. Once the cloth has been dampened and sprayed with a strong-smelling disinfectant soap, he comes over to me and begins roughly rubbing it over my hands.

It stings, and I unwillingly say, “Ow.”

“Sorry.” His eyes roam over me in concern for a pause, then he begins to clean my fingers more gently.

Three minutes later, my fingers are healed but my hands are still an ashy sort of blue. “It’s not coming off,” I quake in a whisper.

“It will,” he promises. He looks me in the eyes now, frowning slightly, as though I am a package he never sent for. “Do you…draw?”

I think I am in a permanent state of confusion with him. But he presses, “With markers? Like, Crayola?”

I shake my head. “The one time I did, I got the ink smeared all over my palms. I haven’t touched them since…”

Oh. I get it.

Giving an affirming nod, my father tells me, “Synth blood will wash completely off in give or take a few hours.”

I breathe freely again. It was such a big reaction for such a small thing, and he doesn’t judge me for it. He doesn’t even ask…

Leo turns back to the Synth. With a perplexing expression still on his face, he says, “I’ll take over. You can have a seat over there.” He flicks his head towards a broken mattress surrounded by wooden crates. Is that where he sleeps? He must read the alarmed look on my face as being residual trauma, because he now asks hesitantly, “Are you going to be okay?”

I nod, probably too many times to be convincing. But I move to the mattress and watch him work. Once the Synth’s clothes are cut off, and there’s nothing left but a nude, busted open android, Leo Elster does something else weird. No, it surpasses weird, because grabbing a pair of metal tweezers and pushing them back into the graft of a dead Synth’s skeletal structure is mental at the very least. Feel like asking him what he’s doing anytime soon? an unkind thought in my head voiced itself.

Almost as though he could hear it, Leo explains suddenly, “He’ll be charging in hibernation mode for a while.” Ducking his head around the light to put a dab of something that seems like silicone glue on the cuts, he goes on talking to me. “When he’s ninety percent he’ll need to be unplugged or it could risk short-circuiting him in this condition.”

Unable to go by without asking any longer, I shake my head. “He’s dead though. Why are you charging a dead Synth?”

Leo sighs, though whether it’s a patient or impatient sigh I have no idea at the minute; I don’t even know him at all. “He’s not going to be dead. I need to patch him up, activate his system, and upload the consci -.”

“Consciousness code,” I finish for him, jaw falling open. “You’re trying to bring him back?”

He was. And judging from his downcast countenance, I sense there’s more to it than to see if he can do it. No, the man I see has lost everything. Why wouldn’t he want to see if he can bring some of it back?

It is quiet for two minutes before Leo finally admits, “With all the Synths being wiped out in this war, it seems like they’ll all go extinct unless I figure this out. Who knows, maybe if they can be rebuilt and rebooted, humans will get tired of trying to kill them.”

Have you met any of them, Dad? I want to ask. But this is a rare moment of disclosure for him, and I know he’s doing it for my benefit.

And I hate to change this subject, but I need to know.

“Did Mum tell you?”

Leo stops applying skin packs to the Synth and puts the equipment aside.

“Tell me what?” he asks, sounding careful.

“About me. About my…sensitivity.”

His lips twitch in a manner that I think might be him trying to form a sad smile for me, but he is too sad even for that. Leo answers, “She wrote to me. Sent pictures. Occasionally asked for my advice, although I was hardly equipped to give any. And yes, she told me. How you feel like your universe is one huge allergy. Everything’s too loud, too bright, the taste of food makes you sick. You have a hard time processing these things because a Synth’s senses are enhanced. And because I did too.”

Am I really having this conversation? Because my mother, bless her, can’t possibly understand what it’s like to be me. And all along, she’s handled my affliction so well because my father told her how it worked.

“Thank you,” I say suddenly.

He blinks, confused. “For what?”

Instead of answering, I stand from the mattress and walk over to the table. “Did she also tell you,” I say very seriously, “that I want to be a doctor?”

And in a case of miracles at work, a small smile is pulled from Leo Elster’s lips. “Would you care to take on your first patient?”

As we begin to trade pliers and surgical knives back and forth, I notice that my fingers are no longer blue. They are no longer red.

They are the result of it – a faint tint of violet.

#humans #humans fanfiction #Leo Elster x Mattie Hawkins #mattie hawkins #leotilda #humans predictions #leo elster

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ucflibrary · 7 years ago

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Pride Month has arrived! While every day is a time to be proud of your identity and orientation, June is that extra special time for boldly celebrating with and for the LGBTQIA community (yes, there are more than lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender in the queer community). June was chosen to honor the Stonewall Riots which happened in 1969. Like other celebratory months, LGBT Pride Month started as a weeklong series of events and expanded into a full month of festivities.

In honor of Pride Month, UCF Library faculty and staff suggested books, movies and music from the UCF collection that represent a wide array of queer authors and characters. Additional events at UCF in June include “UCF Remembers” which is a week-long series of events to commemorate the shooting at the Pulse nightclub in 2016.

Click on the Keep Reading link below to see the full list, descriptions, and catalog links for the 20 titles by or about people in the LGBTQIA community suggested by UCF Library employees. These, and additional titles, are also on the Featured Bookshelf display on the second (main) floor next to the bank of two elevators.

A guide to LGBTQ+ inclusion on campus, post-Pulse edited by Virginia Stead The research in A Guide to LGBTQ+ Inclusion on Campus, Post-PULSE is premised on the notion that, because we cannot choose our sexual, racial, ethnic, cultural, political, geographic, economic, and chronological origins, with greater advantage comes greater responsibility to redistribute life's resources in favor of those whose human rights are compromised and who lack the fundamental necessities of life. Among these basic rights are access to higher education and to positive campus experiences. Queer folk and LGBTQ+ allies have collaborated on this new text in response to the June 16, 2016 targeted murder of 49 innocent victims at the PULSE nightclub, Orlando, Florida. Seasoned and novice members of the academy will find professional empowerment from these authors as they explicitly discuss multiple level theory, policy, and strategies to support LGBTQ+ campus inclusion. Their work illuminates how good, bad, and indeterminate public legislation impacts LGBTQ+ communities everywhere, and it animates multiple layers of campus life, ranging from lessons within a three-year-old day care center to policy-making among senior administration. Suggested by Tim Walker, Information Technology & Digital Initiatives

Afterworlds by Scott Westerfeld Darcy Patel has put college on hold to publish her teen novel, Afterworlds. With a contract in hand, she arrives in New York City with no apartment, no friends, and all the wrong clothes. But lucky for Darcy, she’s taken under the wings of other seasoned and fledgling writers who help her navigate the city and the world of writing and publishing. Over the course of a year, Darcy finishes her book, faces critique, and falls in love. Woven into Darcy’s personal story is her novel, Afterworlds, a suspenseful thriller about a teen who slips into the “Afterworld” to survive a terrorist attack. The Afterworld is a place between the living and the dead, and where many unsolved—and terrifying—stories need to be reconciled. Like Darcy, Lizzie too falls in love…until a new threat resurfaces, and her special gifts may not be enough to protect those she cares about most. Suggested by Rebecca Hawk, Circulation

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon Aster has little to offer folks in the way of rebuttal when they call her ogre and freak. She's used to the names; she only wishes there was more truth to them. If she were truly a monster, she'd be powerful enough to tear down the walls around her until nothing remains of her world. Aster lives in the lowdeck slums of the HSS Matilda, a space vessel organized much like the antebellum South. For generations, Matilda has ferried the last of humanity to a mythical Promised Land. On its way, the ship's leaders have imposed harsh moral restrictions and deep indignities on dark-skinned sharecroppers like Aster. Embroiled in a grudge with a brutal overseer, Aster learns there may be a way to improve her lot--if she's willing to sow the seeds of civil war. Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

And Then I Danced: traveling the road to LGBT equality: a memoir by Mark Segal On December 11, 1973, Mark Segal disrupted a live broadcast of the CBS Evening News when he sat on the desk directly between the camera and news anchor Walter Cronkite, yelling, "Gays protest CBS prejudice!" He was wrestled to the studio floor by the stagehands on live national television, thus ending LGBT invisibility. But this one victory left many more battles to fight, and creativity was required to find a way to challenge stereotypes surrounding the LGBT community. Mark Segal's job, as he saw it, was to show the nation who gay people are: our sons, daughters, fathers, and mothers. Because of activists like Mark Segal, whose life work is dramatically detailed in this poignant and important memoir, today there are openly LGBT people working in the White House and throughout corporate America. An entire community of gay world citizens is now finding the voice that they need to become visible. Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

Basically Queer: an intergenerational introduction to LGBTQA2S+ lives by Claire Robson, Kelsey Blair, and Jen Marchbank Basically Queer offers an introduction to what it can look and feel like to live life as lesbian, gay, bisexual, asexual, two spirited and trans. Written by youth and elders who've lived these lives first hand, the book combines no-nonsense explanations, definitions, and information with engaging stories and poetry that bring them to life. Basically Queer answers those questions that many want to ask but fear will give offence--What is it really like to be queer? What's appropriate language? How can I be an ally? It also provides a succinct and readable account of queer history and legal rights worldwide, addresses intergenerational issues, and offers some tips and tricks for living queer. It does so in an easy and conversational style that will be accessible to most readers, including teens. Suggested by Megan Haught, Teaching & Engagement/Research & Information Services

Fun Home by Alison Bechdel Meet Alison's father, a historic preservation expert and obsessive restorer of the family's Victorian home, a third-generation funeral home director, a high school English teacher, an icily distant parent, and a closeted homosexual who, as it turns out, is involved with his male students and a family babysitter. Through narrative that is alternately heartbreaking and fiercely funny, we are drawn into a daughter's complex yearning for her father. And yet, apart from assigned stints dusting caskets at the family-owned "fun home," as Alison and her brothers call it, the relationship achieves its most intimate expression through the shared code of books. When Alison comes out as homosexual herself in late adolescence, the denouement is swift, graphic -- and redemptive. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections, and Schuyler Kerby, Rosen Library

Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado In Her Body and Other Parties, Carmen Maria Machado blithely demolishes the arbitrary borders between psychological realism and science fiction, comedy and horror, fantasy and fabulism. In this electric and provocative debut, Machado bends genre to shape startling narratives that map the realities of women's lives and the violence visited upon their bodies. A wife refuses her husband's entreaties to remove the green ribbon from around her neck. A woman recounts her sexual encounters as a plague slowly consumes humanity. A salesclerk in a mall makes a horrifying discovery within the seams of the store's prom dresses. One woman's surgery-induced weight loss results in an unwanted houseguest. And in the bravura novella "Especially Heinous," Machado reimagines every episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, a show we naively assumed had shown it all, generating a phantasmagoric police procedural full of doppelgangers, ghosts, and girls with bells for eyes. Earthy and otherworldly, antic and sexy, queer and caustic, comic and deadly serious, Her Body and Other Parties swings from horrific violence to the most exquisite sentiment. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

Inseparable: desire between women in literature by Emma Donoghue Emma Donoghue examines how desire between women in English literature has been portrayed, from schoolgirls and vampires to runaway wives, from cross-dressing knights to contemporary murder stories. She looks at the work of those writers who have addressed the "unspeakable subject," examining whether same-sex desire is freakish or omnipresent, holy or evil, as she excavates a long-obscured tradition of (inseparable) friendship between women, one that is surprisingly central to our cultural history. Inseparable is a revelation of a centuries-old literary tradition — brilliant, amusing, and until now, deliberately overlooked. Suggested by Megan Haught, Teaching & Engagement/Research & Information Services

Let’s Talk About Love by Claire Kann Claire Kann’s debut novel Let’s Talk About Love, chosen by readers like you for Macmillan's young adult imprint Swoon Reads, gracefully explores the struggle with emerging adulthood and the complicated line between friendship and what it might mean to be something more. Suggested by Megan Haught, Teaching & Engagement/Research & Information Services

Little and Lion by Brandy Colbert Suzette returns home to Los Angeles from boarding school and grapples with her bisexual identity when she and her brother Lionel fall in love with the same girl, pushing Lionel's bipolar disorder to spin out of control and forcing Suzette to confront her own demons. Suggested by Emma Gisclair, Curriculum Materials Center

Myra Breckinridge by Gore Vidal Myra's personality is altered by her sex change operation and Myron is transported back through time to the year 1948. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Subject Librarian

Reflections in a Golden Eye by Carson McCullers Set on a Southern army base in the 1930s, REFLECTIONS tells the story of Captain Penderton, a bisexual whose life is upset by the arrival of Major Langdon, a charming womanizer who has an affair with Penderton's tempestuous and flirtatious wife, Leonora. Upon the novel's publication in 1941, reviewers were unsure of what to make of its relatively scandalous subject matter. But a critic for Time Magazine wrote, "In almost any hands, such material would yield a rank fruitcake of mere arty melodrama. But Carson McCullers tells her tale with simplicity, insight, and a rare gift of phrase." Written during a time when McCullers's own marriage to Reeves was on the brink of collapse, her second novel deals with her trademark themes of alienation and unfulfilled loves. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Subject Librarian

Speak No Evil by Uzodinma Iweala In the tradition of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah, Speak No Evil explores what it means to be different in a fundamentally conformist society and how that difference plays out in our inner and outer struggles. It is a novel about the power of words and self-identification, about who gets to speak and who has the power to speak for other people. As heart-wrenching and timely as his breakout debut, Beasts of No Nation, Uzodinma Iweala’s second novel cuts to the core of our humanity and leaves us reeling in its wake. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

Tash hearts Tolstoy by Kathryn Ormsbee Fame and success come at a cost for Natasha "Tash" Zelenka when she creates the web series "Unhappy Families," a modern adaptation of Anna Karenina--written by Tash's eternal love Leo Tolstoy. Suggested by Megan Haught, Teaching & Engagement/Research & Information Services

The Boys in the Band by Mart Crowley The Boys in the Band was the first commercially successful play to reveal gay life to mainstream America. This is a special fortieth anniversary edition of the play, which includes an original preface by acclaimed writer Tony Kushner (Angels in America), along with previously unpublished photographs of Mart Crowley and the cast of the play/film. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Subject Librarian

The Sleeper and the Spindle by Neil Gaiman On the eve of her wedding, a young queen sets out to rescue a princess from an enchantment. She casts aside her fine wedding clothes, takes her chain mail and her sword, and follows her brave dwarf retainers into the tunnels under the mountain towards the sleeping kingdom. This queen will decide her own future -- and the princess who needs rescuing is not quite what she seems. Suggested by Rebecca Hawk, Circulation

Very Recent History: an entirely factual account of a year (c. AD 2009) in a large city by Choire Sicha What will the future make of us? In one of the greatest cities in the world, the richest man in town is the Mayor. Billionaires shed apartments like last season's fashion trends, even as the country's economy turns inside out and workers are expelled from the City's glass towers. The young and careless go on as they always have, getting laid and getting laid off, falling in and falling out of love, and trying to navigate the strange world they traffic in: the Internet, complex financial markets, credit cards, pop stars, microplane cheese graters, and sex apps. A true-life fable of money, sex, and politics, Very Recent History follows a man named John and his circle of friends, lovers, and enemies. It is a book that pieces together our every day, as if it were already forgotten. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

Victim directed by Basil Dearden A highly respected, but closeted barrister, Melville Farr, risks his marriage and reputation to take on an elusive blackmail ring terrorizing gay men with the threat of public exposure and police action. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Subject Librarian

Why be happy when you could be normal? by Jeanette Winterson Traces the author's lifelong search for happiness as the adopted daughter of Pentecostal parents who raised her through practices of fierce control and paranoia, an experience that prompted her to search for her biological mother. Suggested by Lindsey Ritzert, Circulation

Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson The most beguilingly seductive novel to date from the author of The Passion and Sexing the Cherry. Winterson chronicles the consuming affair between the narrator, who is given neither name nor gender, and the beloved, a complex and confused married woman. Suggested by Rebecca Hawk, Circulation

#lgbtq pride month #lgbtqia #pride month #neil gaiman #ucf #ucf library #ucf libraries bookshelf #booklr

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tryingtofeelanything · 8 years ago

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Happy Birthday, Chuuya

English Bungou Stray Dogs Soukoku One shot SFW (FWP. Like “fluff without plot”)

It’s short and pointless but whatever. I would have made it longer and written about the birthday party, but as my whole life consists on running out of time, I have to make choices. And on top of them is always Soukoku. ❤ Chuuya’d deserve so much more, but I can’t. Q-Q AKA how Dazai gest away with no one noticing he did remember Chuuya’s birthday because of course he doesn’t care about this hat rack. O-of course…

The sun was filtering through hardly closed curtains. From its intensity, the day would be likely radiant, if not already late. Yet he did not care about this information ; the point was that those curtains had not been pulled and he could not fall back asleep with such brightness. Getting up to pull them seemed impossible. His head felt more and more heavy and a muted pain was starting to pound in his skull, in a more and more intense way as his mind awakened. With a growl, Chuuya buried his face against the heat source he felt against him. This simple move floored his whole body for a moment with an unconquerable feeling of weakness and he would have surely been overcome by violent dizziness had he not been lying on his bed and wrapped up in the sheets.

This morning would rank high among his worst hangovers. He did not have the strength to open his eyes for now. He should have been more reasonable the previous day. But it was such a good opportunity. Tachihara really had invested himself to secretly prepare a party in honor of his boss’s birthday. The latter could always count on him for this kind of things, to be honest, and the surprise had not really been one – if Chuuya had not forgotten his initiatives, after a long day way too full of contingencies for his birthday. Tiredness, lack of decent meals with all of those hitches, then the euphoria and a few stunts because of Kajii’s crazy ideas – he did not have real memories of them anymore, but the feeling of tasting the sour sting of lemon in the back of his throat was too strong for him to believe nothing had happened – had joyfully mingled with a few – with a lot of – glasses, which had a certain effect. He could not remember the party in a clear way after one or two hours after its beginning, nothing came back to his mind for even an important part of the time spent with his subordinates. At least someone had the good idea of bringing him back home…

He really needed aspirin. Someone even had a great concern to lead him to his bed, and not let him fall on his couch, which was particularly uncomfortable for mornings like that. As well as to remove his belt and the excess of clothes that would have been absolutely unpleasant in his state too… Actually all of his clothes, all things considered… He would have liked to sit up. His head felt like it was about to explode. Admittedly the hand gently stroking his hair made the pain more bearable, it did not ease it in any way… The hand that did not belong to him… Ha…?

The strength to straighten up on his elbows and open his eyes reached him suddenly. He was immediately greeted by two chocolate-like eyes looking at him with obvious amusement. A few incoherent words escaped his lips as his brain tried to link the pieces of information together. Dazai had not been there the previous night, of course. He was not part of the mafia anymore. Except that he was right here, on his bed and not wearing more clothes than Chuuya, not including bandages wound up around his chest, and clearly teared up at some parts and… was that nail scratches, on top of his right shoulder, and extending on his back ? Oh God. The young man was torn between the need to understand what had happened and the fear of remembering what they could have… done.

“Good morning, Chuuya…!”, his ex-partner greeted him with a wide smile, obviously satisfied by the stunned look he caused.

“W-What are you…? How did you…?” He inwardly cursed his dry throat and his confused mind. “What the fuck are you doing here…?!”

“Aah, Chuuya, you should thank me for bringing you back home. You were in such a poor state last night. Wanna see ?”

Dazai was nonchalantly drumming his fingers on his smartphone and his partner – of course not partner in the mafia anymore, but it would have been difficult to deny that he was his partner for a completely different reason after this new mistake – had no doubt he really had proofs. He would have strangle him right away if he had the strength to do so.

“I think you should reply to your subordinate to calm them down, the young brown haired man proclaimed as he was opening his mouth again, looking for a way to protest. They’ve been sounding like they were freaking out since last night. I did try to inform them about you, but it doesn’t look like they liked it.”

Chuuya jumped on his phone. About twenty missed calls and a lot more unread messages. And before them, a few words, sent with his phone but clearly not by himself, even if he had been dead drunk, telling several contacts that he was “with a handsome young man for the end of the night ! <333”. He would really strangle him.

“Can we talk about the code to unlock it now or another time ?”

A whole minute was needed for him to wonder what code he was talking about before feeling his cheeks turning crimson red under his auburn ruffled hair. He fully straightened up on his knees and violently grabbed a loose part of the bandages around Dazai’s neck, uttering stuttering and aborted threats. The latter only made himself more comfortable on the pillows and put his hands on his partner’s hips – a light pain revealed a bruise on his right hipbone – to bring him closer. Chuuya had to put his legs around the detective’s waist in order to keep his balance. The pain in his head was stabbing again and he put his hands to his temples with a frustrated groan. Dazai took advantage of the opportunity to put his arms around the redhead’s neck. The latter found his forehead buried against his shoulder. The worst part was that he felt a lot better like that than trying to get the last breath out of this parasite.

“What the fuck are you doing here in the first place ?”

“I had nothing to do last night. That’s all.”

Chuuya sighed. He needed aspirin. And a shower. And Dazai’s arms. No, not that. He just did not have the strength to get away.

“By the way, Chuuya. You were in such a poor state last night that I bet you don’t remember, but…”

He was about to tell him to shut up, but found himself welcoming Dazai’s lips on his tangled hair, surprised. Dazai’s voice was soft, his arms were comforting, his lips soothing.

“Happy birthday, Chuuya.”

#bungou stray dogs #osamu dazai #chuuya nakahara #dachuu #soukoku #one shot #ficlet #fluff #birthday #hangover

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nitrateglow · 8 years ago

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Movies watched in 2017 (11-20)

Continuing my 2017 film journal. So far, I’ve continued to find some real gems!

Three Came Home (dir. Jean Negulesco, 1950)

Documenting the true story of the American Agnes Newton Smith, a writer interred with her son in a Japanese POW camp during WWII, Three Came Home is a decent film, with solid performances and a few standout scenes. It is a movie which the censorship codes held it back from being a more powerful work; you always get the sense that the filmmakers wanted to show more of the graphic and harrowing side of Smith’s ordeal, which included torture and almost being raped. nevertheless, the filmmakers go as far as they could at the time, even allowing star Claudette Colbert to get in front of the camera sans make-up. Everyone is coated in sweat and grime. Sessue Hayakawa is there too as the sympathetic Colonel Suga. He gets one strong scene toward the end of the movie, where he evokes immense grief and guilt without words, a reminder of his power as a performer and his heyday as one of the best starring actors in Hollywood during the 1910s. (7/10)

BBC Sunday-Night Theatre: Nineteen Eighty-Four (1954)

Peter Cushing as Winston Smith—who can resist that? Once again, this man proves he is one of the most underrated actors to have ever stood before a camera. Despite the obvious low budget, this is a great adaptation of Orwell’s novel, much superior to the American feature adaptation made a few years after. In fact, I would say the low budget and cramped sets add to the desolate, gloomy, claustrophobic atmosphere of Oceania’s dystopian world. Everything is dingy and depressing. The ending retains the bleak outlook of Orwell’s novel and Cushing’s great depiction of brokenness only makes it all the creepier. I also want to highlight the great work Yvonne Mitchell does as Julia; she’s pretty and sensual, but not at all a glamorous starlet like the American ‘50s adaptation. Overall, a great version. If you love the book and care about your adaptations being accurate, then you’ll probably enjoy this picture. (9/10)

Reaching for the Moon (dir. Edmund Goulding, 1930)

I wouldn’t really call this movie good and the only folks I can recommend it to are old movie buffs like me, but if you are into pre-code movies, art deco, Bebe Daniels, and/or Douglas Fairbanks Sr., then Reaching for the Moon is worth watching once. The plot is frivolous and forgettable, the pace is slow even for a 70 minute picture, and poor Fairbanks is kind of wasted. He spends some time doing his usual acrobatic thing, but it always feels slapped on and not organic to the scenes. Apparently the movie was originally supposed to be a musical, but the studio cut most of the songs at the last minute since audiences were getting tired of musicals in mid-1930. To be honest, I wish they had kept them in, because the musical numbers are the most energetic and engaging parts of the film. I especially enjoyed Bing Crosby and Bebe Daniels in the jazzy, very Depression-era number “When the Folks High Up Do the Mean Low Down.” Easily, that scene and the art direction are the best assets the movie has to offer; William Cameron Menzies does lovely work on the art deco sets, which are like a dream of 1920s glamor. (6/10)

The Eternal Mother (dir. DW Griffith, 1912)

Like the Griffith short I watched in the last batch, not an essential among his early work. Mabel Normand and Blanche Sweet are wasted as a wanton woman and a virtuous wife. The plot is incredibly thin and silly: a man leaves his good wife for a tart; the tart bears his child and dies on cue. The wife is so good that she takes in the child and the husband spends his years alone until he and the wife reunite as elderly folks. Not much of interest on the technical or story scale. (4/10)

Three Outlaw Samurai (dir. Hideo Gosha, 1964)

I got interested in this one after figuring out Rian Johnson used it as an influence on the next Star Wars movie. I’m guessing most of the influence came from the way Gosha shoots the swordplay, which is very kinetic and rough, but there may be some of the film’s cynical treatment of justice and honor in the new Star Wars too… maybe, since Star Wars is rarely cynical when it comes to good and evil, but we shall see. Regardless, it is a good film, an essential if you like chambara. (8/10)

The Dentist (dir. Leslie Pearce, 1932)

To say WC Fields is weird is an understatement. I would not say I am a fan, but I do adore his surreal and deadpan Yukon parody The Fatal Glass of Beer and generally like The Bank Dick. The Dentist isn’t as impressive as either of those, but it has plenty of good, misanthropic laughs as well as some very risqué humor for 1932 (but then again, this is from the pre-code era). (7/10)

The Fall of the House of Usher (dir. JS Watson Jr. and Melville Webber, 1928)

While not as good as the later Watson and Webber offering, Lot in Sodom, their surreal adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s short story is still dazzling. It actually feels quite modern. It is a modern dress adaptation and conjures more of the dreadful, claustrophobic spirit of the original story rather than sticking closely to the letter. It also has a lot more obvious Caligari influence than the later Lot in Sodom. (9/10)

Fire Over England (dir. William K. Howard, 1937)

I’ve been reading a lot about the Tudors lately and Elizabeth is my favorite of the bunch. After watching the pretty poor Cate Blanchett movie, I went sixty years back to this 1937 adventure film produced by Alexander Korda. While not focusing exclusively on Elizabeth, it does tell a rousing yarn about an English spy (playing by a young and totally adorable Laurence Olivier) out to do business in Philip II’s court before the legendary English victory over the Spanish Armada in the 1580s. It’s a fun swashbuckler complete with broad characters, a hiss-worthy villain, swordplay, and daring escapes, also of historical interest since the conflict between England and Spain is meant to reflect the then-contemporary conflict between most of Europe and the Nazi Germany. Flora Robson is a great screen Elizabeth, commanding and charismatic while also sporting a fierce temper. And though given little to do, Vivien Leigh is ravishing, and even in this early film, she and Olivier are wonderful together. (8/10)

Ruka [The Hand] (dir. Jiri Trnka, 1965)

I was turned onto the work of Czech animator Jiri Trnka by the Brows Held High episode on his 1959 feature adaptation of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. That film is a charming fantasy and heartfelt look at the power of art; however, Trnka’s most famous film, the short “Ruka,” is much darker and proved to be his swan song before he passed away in 1969. It is a political satire about the suppression of artistic expression in totalitarian regimes. It is both darkly hilarious and incredibly bleak. Considering Trnka’s work is usually characterized as nostalgic and whimsical, his final film is strikes a sad, but still powerful chord and remains incredibly relevant even today. (10/10)

Big Deal on Madonna Street (dir. Mario Monicelli, 1958)

So freaking funny! I watched this one because Martin Scorsese recommended it as one of his choices for essential foreign cinema. Though Big Deal is a parody of 1950s heist pictures such as The Asphalt Jungle and Rififi, it is nothing like the pathetic cinematic parodies we get now, like Meet the Spartans or Fifty Shades of Black. Like Airplane or Blazing Saddles, it still understands that it needs to work as an original story with characters we enjoy watching and good gags that don’t really on references to popular culture alone. Big Deal is also interesting in its presentation of everyday life and urban poverty, seeing as our heroes are a mix of sad sack, small time criminals and lower class working folk; in many ways, it feels like a comic romp set in the same universe as The Bicycle Thieves or Umberto D. (9/10)

#thoughts #movies watched in 2017

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ghostlycorners · 8 years ago

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Rough drawing of a story map, standing on the mountains along the edge of the land. It’s a dark story, so I thought it would be alright to put in this blog of darkness. Will be working to make this look nicer with time.

The Land of Wytsu, divided into 8 countries (color coded, each country represents an element. Starting with Ice at the top going clockwise: Ice, Water, Earth, Lightning, Fire, Light, Shadow, (center) Wind), completely surrounded by mountains other than to the north.

Currently working on the opening (for the 7th time), and below is what there is of it so far. Trying to add more to it when I can bring myself to do so.

X on the map shows where the story locations are.

A little boy runs in the snow with polar bears, of all creatures. He is ten years old, and the only thing he can remember is growing up with these creatures.

At the north end of the world lies three massive islands, all covered with ice. Just south of the ice is a massive ring of mountains with eight pieces of land, seven countries separated by rivers and an island in the middle. Along the outside edges to the east, south, and west are nothing but mountains, and these mountains connect the countries by land, the rivers flowing through them. This spread of land is known as the land of Wytsu. Each piece is a country, and each country represents an element: Light, Fire, Lightening, Wind, Water, Ice, Earth, and Shadow. At the southern end of the world is a blackened land.

Each country has their own ways of doing things, but don’t get the country elements get you thinking that the people in that country use that element. In each country, there is a sacred temple for the Guardians of the world, known more commonly as Denizen out of respect by the people. There are eight Guardians in the world, and these people plus one or two others for each element actually have the power of the pure elements. By pure, we mean the ability to form, create, bend, manipulate, even eat, and some other abilities.

The people of your world don’t have powers, maybe five percent or ten percent do, due to the wonders of this world. These islands are forbidden because no one can live there under normal circumstances. Not a single village can be found on these three islands nor the tiny icy islands. This little boy is the only human who lives in the Forbidden Icelands. The temple of the Ice Guardian, however, is on the southeastern island. The land directly south is the country of ice where people do live.

Back to the boy.

On the Northern Island of Ice, the little boy continues to play with the little cubs. Their white fur brushes along the boy as they run through the heavy snow, racing back to the mother polar bear. Upon their return, the mother placed some fish onto the ground for the cubs to eat. The little boy, although adopted by this family of polar bears, learned that he must hunt for his own food. This, for him, is no problem. He goes to the nearby icy watering hole and jumps in.

Did I forget to mention that since he is risen by polar bears, he has no clothes other than the wrappings from when he was a baby which is wrapped around his waist?

The boy hunted down two fish for himself and returned to the surface, eating the fish raw since he knew nothing of fire, just like the polar bears. Once they ate, they went back to playing since the sun was still up. There is one cub that the boy has become great friends with, and they decide to go off and play near the mountainside.

On the mountainside stood three men. One has a sniper gun, another stood still in a blue and white cloak, and the third had blue skin with white hair in blue clothing.

“He has lived among them since he was born,” the blue-skinned man comments. “I want to see him grow up among other humans, so I ask you to please take him with you.” The man with the sniper looks up.

“It would be our honor to bring him back with us if thou command us.” The blue-skin looks back to the boy and walks away, disappearing in the snow. The man with the cloak turns to the other.

“I still think we should kill the boy. It’s not like the boy has any family, and it’s not like this is his son.”

“I don’t disagree with you, but we can’t kill him here. He will know if any death occurs on these islands. We will take him with us, sure, but we can kill him back in Wytsu.”

“He isn’t his son, and yet he likely has the power if he is still alive after all these years in this land. We can’t let anyone with the power live.”

“Agreed.” The sniper raises his gun with a sleepy dart inserted, and he aims for the boy. He fires, but the ten-year-old boy instantly flinched back, dodging the dart. However, it hit the little cub instead. The boy began to freak out and shook the cub, not knowing that the dart isn’t lethal. “Let’s go.” The two men stand up and walk to the boy.

The 10-year-old boy turns and sees his enemies for the first time.

The boy raises his hands as the sniper brought his gun up. He shot again, but the boy had snow surrounding his hands like a barrier, stopping the bullets. Once the shooting stopped, the boy forces the snow towards the sniper, sending him back a few feet. The other man walked up to the boy while taking his gloves off, but the boy decided that he needed to run. He knew that he couldn’t do anything for the little cub, his one and only friend, and was too scared to fight off these men of talent. The cloaked man sighs.

“Well, I guess we can have a little fun with this, chasing him around until we get to Wytsu.” The cloaked one looks at the little cub. “These two have some sort of bond, as well… this could be fun, too.” He took his uncovered hand and lowered it to the little cub.

The hunt for the boy begins.

---

Female reader insert.

Ten years later.

You’re all alone, standing in a dark room with a light directly above you in the middle of a stage made of ice. You raise your arms above your head, and music begins to play; a slow, piano solo in a minor key which means that the song will have lots of emotion expressed through the music. You glide to the right very slowly on your ice skates specifically made for you. They are a clean white color, complimenting your blue ice skating dress that reveal your legs and collar bone. You bring your arms out horizontally as you step with your left foot with the piano, gliding to the left. Your hair is in a tight bun, not a single strand out of place. It felt perfect. It is perfect. You take another step with your right foot, a quicker step with the left, and then you kick the ice with your right foot as you jump, taking a quick double lutz at the very opening of the song.

Applause echoes all around you as you land near perfectly, gliding on your dominant leg with your other foot in the air behind you and your arms to your sides. You glide around the ice in large circles, taking one push at a time. Your nails are clipped and painted, your skin smooth and hydrated with the lotion that you got a few weeks back from your parents who heard that you were in the Regional Figure Skating Competition. You didn’t do it for the prize and the money for who wins, though.

You are doing it because dancing is what you love, and that includes figure skating.

The piano music is now building in harmony with the addition of string instruments, really bringing out the emotion in the minor key it is in. You pick up the pace just like the music is, taking quicker steps, pushing harder, swinging your outstretched arms with the music. As the melody comes through, you begin to swerve more, you skate in reverse, and you gesture your head and hands in the form of dancing. You move your arms above your head. You bring your hands together down to your chest. You kick the ice and take more double lutz. The music builds even more, and once it reaches its climax, you find yourself kicking the ice and jumping for a triple spin. You nail the landing and hear applause around you while the echo of the climax in the music calms. Your pace is slower. The piano solo is back. Your hands move slower, but they continue to move like your slow paced feet.

You close your eyes. You feel a shiver go up your spine with the feeling of how your movements were in perfect sync with the music. Adrenaline courses through your veins, but you keep it under control for the remainder of the performance. You come to the middle of the ice and do some spinning, including spins with a leg outstretched, your whole body perfectly straight, bent legs, and other figure forms for spins. As you stop spinning and slowly skate backwards, you think about the next spin. You can’t do the triple lutz quiet yet, so you have been told to keep to the double lutz except for the one time during the performance by your teacher, who you asked to teach you and be your audience while you practiced over the last six months on this one performance.

The music builds slowly and you go faster. And faster. And faster. You kick the ice and jump, doing the only triple lutz in the dance, but as you land, you wobble and almost lose balance. It was a faint, almost unnoticeable flaw, but you don’t fall. You were thinking too much on wanting to have been able to do a quadruple spin, but you know just as well that you weren’t ready to do that yet. You slowly reach the middle after going around the ice in circles again. You twirl a few times before slowly coming to a stop, one hand in the air above you, the other horizontally to the side, and your legs crossing.

The echo of the final chord quiets to silence, and applause explodes into the air along with whistles. You take heavy breathes of relief as flowers are thrown onto the ice. The darkness is replaced with lights, and the massive audience is revealed. At the sudden realization that there was a huge audience, however, you quickly skate out of the rink and hide in the hallway. Your teacher runs up to you from the side of the rink. He has short brown hair with a dark green jacket and black pants and shoes.

“You nailed it!” He congratulates you excitedly. “You’re sure to win after that performance!” You turn to face him as you tremble about the fact that thousands of people were watching you dance on the ice. “See? It wasn’t so bad to have such a large audience for even you!”

“It’s horrifying!” You knew that people were there, but because of the darkness, you didn’t bother to think about the audience while you did what you love to do. He only laughs.

“That was only your fourth performance in front of a large audience, and this is the largest one yet. You’ll eventually get used to such a large audience,” he assures you. You flinch and try to stop your rapid heart and adrenaline from the dancing and the audience. You go to your assigned room to put on some warm black pants and a (f/c) jacket to hopefully warm up your veins enough to calm down. You keep your hair in the bun it’s in. You hear an applause and decide that you would take your time to reach the rink and watch the final performer of the competition. It was well done though she had a landing that almost ended horrendously, but thankfully she didn’t fall. It’s a shame that she will be heavily docked because of it, though. She did a beautiful job with her performance.

“You did a beautiful job,” you tell her as she steps out of the rink and walks past you. She looks at you and smiles before sulking about the mistake. The announcers just then call out saying they will announce the first, second, and third placements of the Regional Figure Skating Competition.

“You’re bound to be one of the top three competitors,” your teacher exclaims. You don’t say anything, but while you don’t mind being one of the top three, all you could think about was standing in front of such a huge audience if you were one of the top three. The thought of it makes you shiver. “Hey, relax! You did wonderful out there, there’s nothing to worry about. If you’re worried about how the audience judges you, don’t worry about it.”

It’s not that you worry about how people judge you. It’s just that you’re too embarrassed to have been dancing in a figure skating dress that reveals your legs and neck, even if the dress had sleeves that reached your elbows so it wasn’t an open top dress. Embarrassment!

“The judges have finished with the scores. We will begin with naming the third placer, and then the second and the first.” Your heart skips a beat. You tell yourself that you aren’t in the dress anymore, which sort of helps, but it was still an embarrassing thought. “In third place, Hina Siratsuge.” The audience applause and someone is seen in the distance standing and going crazy in excitement. Probably her father. You smiled at how funny he looked. “In second place, (f/n) (l/n).” The audience applauds even louder than the previous name.

That’s when you realize that it was your name that they called out.

“Go on,” your teacher pushes you onto the rink. There was a platform on the rink with a big three, two, and one on both sides, and Hina was already on the third place side. You quickly go to the platform, embarrassed as you listen to the applause get even louder and the many loud whistles echoing in the rink. You step onto the side with the number two on the sides.

“In first place, Yui Futsuhari.” The audience goes wild as a girl walks onto the rink, still in her skating dress: a glittering dark purple dress just like yours but with a different design pattern imprinted on it, and it had shorter sleeves. You start clapping, distracting yourself from the thought of the audience by thinking about how she performed: she is the only one who pulled off a quadruple spin in the air. She landed everything perfectly and had very few flaws if any at all. She stood on the first place section of the platform and we were all given our medals: I got the silver medal. For the prizes, first place gets $10,000, second gets $5,000, and third gets $2,500. When the pictures were done being taken, you look up to the girl named Yui to distract yourself from the attention.

“Congratulations. That was a wonderful performance,” you say with a smile. She drops down from her part of the platform and gives you a hug.

“Same to you, you did a beautiful job.” You’re glad that she wasn’t one of those spoiled, rotten girls that only cared about fame, and you hug her back. Hina came over and gave the two of you a hug, as well. You glance over at your teacher who is now crying. You roll your eyes. Typical of him.

You get down and quickly leave the rink after talking to the two girls and to some reporters. Grabbing your belongings, you leave with your teacher driving you back to your home.

“What are you going to do with that money you got?”

“I’m probably going to save it up. If anything, I won’t use more than a thousand dollars on stuff.”

“That’s quite the plan,” he nods. “Good for you. There aren’t too many at your age who will actually save up the money they get.” You don’t respond, there aren’t any comments that come to mind for that. “We’re celebrating your achievement tonight, I hope you know.”

“How can I not know when that’s all you have been talking about since before the competition, even if I didn’t place?” Both of you start laughing.

“True that.” He continues driving and you keep smiling. You really did perform well and feel really comfortable with yourself. A shiver goes up your spine when you think of the audience, though, and it was so apparent that your teacher notices and laughs again.

You live in Wytsu, the land with eight countries. You are in the northwestern country, the country that represents the Shadow element. It could be the element of darkness, but then everyone would hate them. So. Country that represents Shadow.

#Story #Storymaking #Map #Colors

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